"I sold it ages ago."
My answer made Howard visibly relax. Even the driver's shoulders dropped with relief.
"Mia, let me take you to the hospital for a checkup. Don't worry—I've already made all the arrangements..."
Howard dropped me at the hospital entrance, then left under the barrage of Yvette's incessant calls.
I dragged my exhausted body to my brother's ward. Only when I found the note tucked beneath his mattress did the tension finally drain from my chest.
The handwriting was unmistakably my father's—bold, decisive strokes:
"Mia, I've taken Wilfred somewhere safe. After tomorrow, you'll begin a new life too."
I had just slipped the note into my pocket when my phone rang.
I hesitated for a few seconds before answering.
Yvette's voice floated through, dripping with smug amusement.
"Dear sister," she cooed, "Howard's proposing to me tomorrow on the island he bought me. I heard your wedding was rather... modest. Why not come see how it's really done?"
A pause. "Unless you're too afraid to show up—"
"I'll be there."
Silence on the other end. Then a sharp laugh crackled through.
"Perfect. I'll be waiting."
The next morning, I followed the coordinates Yvette had sent and stepped onto the island.
My phone buzzed almost immediately. Howard.
His voice was honey-smooth, tender as always. "Mia, I'll be stuck at the office all day—probably won't be home until tomorrow morning. I'll bring you something nice when I get back."
I watched him in the distance, kneeling to adjust the train of Yvette's gown.
A smile tugged at my lips.
"That's sweet," I said softly. "But we might see each other sooner than you think. I have a gift for you too."
I saw his body stiffen—just for a heartbeat.
Then his voice returned, perfectly composed. "I can't wait, sweetheart."
The line went dead.
I took my time surveying the spectacle before me.
Half of Kingston City's elite had been summoned to witness this moment. Every detail had been orchestrated with painstaking care—the flowers, the lighting, the sweeping ocean backdrop.
This proposal wasn't just real. It was everything.
The old bitterness stirred.
When we got married, Howard said he despised "empty ceremonies." He said as a public figure, he couldn't afford extravagance. So our wedding had been a quiet dinner with a handful of friends.
Nothing more.
But for Yvette? He'd moved heaven and earth.
"Yvette... will you marry me?"
Howard's low, elated voice cut through my thoughts.
He was already on one knee, sliding the ring onto her finger. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
Yvette's cheeks flushed pink. She opened her mouth to answer—
And then Howard's personal assistant came barreling through the crowd, dropping to his knees with a heavy thud.
Before Howard could demand an explanation, the man stammered out:
"Mr. Delgado—it's Old Mr. Gilbert—he's alive!"
