Chapter 8: Homecoming
The drive to the old neighborhood feels both endless and too quick.
The city blurs past, skyscrapers giving way to strip malls, then to the familiar cracked sidewalks and sagging chain link fences. Every turn is muscle memory, but I'm seeing it all through new eyes now. The blacked out Maybach sticks out like a spaceship among the beat up sedans and minivans. People on porches stop and stare. A couple kids on bikes follow us for three blocks before the driver loses them.
Marcus is in the front passenger seat, quiet. He knows what this means to me.
We pull up in front of the house at 10:47 a.m.
The lawn's still patchy from where I mowed it four days ago. Claudia's ancient Buick is in the driveway. Sophia's pink Mustang is crooked across two spaces like always.
I step out before the driver can open the door.
The street goes still. Mrs. Alvarez next door drops her watering can. A dog starts barking somewhere down the block.
I don't knock.
I just open the front door and walk in like I never left.
The living room smells the same. Lavender cleaner, old couch, and the faint bitterness of Claudia's morning coffee. The TV is on, some shopping channel blaring about cubic zirconia.
Claudia's on the couch, mouth open mid sentence at the screen. Sophia's sprawled in the armchair, scrolling her phone.
They both freeze when they see me.
I'm in a midnight blue Brioni suit that costs more than their cars combined. Hair cut sharp, face clean shaven, the kind of posture money and power put back in your spine after years of hiding.
Claudia recovers first. "What the hell are you doing in my house? Get out before I call the…"
Her words die when she really looks at me.
Sophia's phone slips from her hand and clatters to the floor.
I don't speak yet. I just stand there and let them see.
Claudia's face cycles through confusion, recognition, then pure shock.
"You… you're that Lockwood boy," she whispers. "The one from the news. The billionaire."
Sophia makes a strangled sound. "No way. No fucking way."
I finally open my mouth.
"Where's Bella?"
Claudia's still gaping. Sophia's eyes are wide as saucers, flicking from my watch to my shoes to the two silent, enormous security guys now filling the doorway behind me.
"Upstairs," Sophia stammers. "She, she hasn't come down since yesterday. Locked herself in her room after…"
I'm already moving.
I take the stairs two at a time, the same creaky steps I learned to avoid for five years. The hallway feels narrower than I remember.
Her door is closed. Locked.
I knock once. Soft.
"Bella."
Silence.
Then a muffled voice, hoarse and small. "Go away."
"It's me, baby. Open the door."
I hear movement. The lock clicks.
The door opens just a crack.
Her face appears, eyes red and swollen, cheeks blotchy, hair wild like she hasn't slept. She's in one of my old T shirts, the one she always stole to sleep in.
She stares at me like I'm a ghost.
Then her knees buckle.
I catch her before she hits the floor.
She's shaking in my arms, fists clutching my lapels, face buried in my chest. Sobbing so hard she can't breathe.
"I've got you," I murmur into her hair. "I'm here. I'm sorry. I've got you."
She pulls back just enough to look up at me, tears still falling.
"You left," she whispers. "You promised tomorrow and then you just…"
"I know." I cup her face, thumbs wiping her cheeks. "I had to finish it. One last thing so no one could ever take this away from us again. I should've told you. I was wrong."
She searches my eyes for a long moment.
Then she kisses me, hard, desperate, like she's proving I'm real.
I kiss her back like a man who almost lost everything and just got it back.
Downstairs, Claudia's voice rises. "Isabella! What is going on up there?"
Bella flinches.
I pull away just enough to meet her eyes.
"Pack a bag," I say quietly. "Whatever you want to keep. We're not coming back."
She hesitates. "My mom…"
"Will be taken care of. For life. Best doctors, whatever she needs. Same for Sophia if she behaves. But we're done here."
She looks around the tiny bedroom that's been her whole world, then back at me.
"Okay," she whispers.
Ten minutes later she's got a duffel slung over her shoulder, wearing jeans and my hoodie now. She's still barefoot. I pick her up bridal style because I can't not touch her right now.
We come down the stairs together.
Claudia and Sophia are standing in the living room, flanked by Marcus and the security team.
Claudia starts yelling the second she sees us. "You can't just take her! She's my daughter…"
I stop at the bottom of the stairs.
"Claudia," I say, voice calm but carrying that edge that makes boardrooms go quiet. "You've spent five years telling me I'm worthless. Turns out you were housing a billionaire and didn't even know it."
Her mouth opens. Closes.
I keep going. "Your mortgage? Paid off today. Medical bills? Gone. A trust fund hits your account next week, enough to live comfortably if you're smart. But if I ever hear you speak to Bella the way you have again, it disappears. Understood?"
Claudia looks like she's been slapped. Sophia's crying now, mascara running.
Bella squeezes my arm. "Let's go."
I carry her out the front door.
The Maybach is waiting. Marcus opens the back door.
I set her inside gently, slide in after her, and pull her into my lap.
As the car pulls away, she looks out the window at the house shrinking behind us.
Then she turns to me, eyes still wet but fierce now.
"Never leave me in the dark again," she says.
"Never," I swear.
She rests her head on my shoulder.
"Where are we going?" she asks.
"Home," I tell her. "The penthouse first. Then tomorrow we can look at houses. Anywhere you want. As many bedrooms as you want."
She laughs through the tears. "Start with one really big bed."
I kiss her temple. "Already ordered."
The city rises up around us again, taller buildings, brighter lights, a world that belongs to me now.
But the only part that matters is the woman in my arms.
Five years of silence.
Over.
From this moment on, the only thing she'll ever hear from me is the truth.
And every day for the rest of our lives, I'm going to make damn sure she never regrets trusting me.