Saturday morning arrived with a blanket of grey clouds that promised a relentless downpour. Inside the Blackwood estate, the atmosphere was equally stifling.
Helen stood in the grand foyer, adjusting the strap of her designer handbag while glancing at her reflection in the mirror. She was dressed for a charity luncheon in the city, oblivious to the charged silence radiating from the two men standing near the staircase.
"I still think it's a shame you aren't going to Montauk, Leo," Helen said, sighing as she turned to face them. "Isabella is a lovely girl. You work too hard."
"Damon needs my help with the Tokyo compliance reports, Mom," Leo said. He offered her a bright, reassuring smile, playing the perfect, dutiful son to a tee. "Duty calls. Besides, I'd rather learn the business than get sunburned on a boat."
