Chapter 471
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Chapter 471:
Carmen dropped to her knees on the concrete and threw her arms open, catching him as he collided with her. She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in — her living, breathing child. Tears ran silently down her face.
Behind them, Justin Collins stood with his hands in his pockets, watching the reunion with the quiet, settled smile of a hunter who had finally locked the cage.
Saturday afternoon on the Upper East Side.
Sunlight poured through the massive windows of Justin’s townhouse, illuminating dust motes drifting through the warm air. A fire crackled cheerfully in the marble fireplace.
Carmen sat cross-legged on the plush living room rug in a soft cashmere sweater, helping Aaden snap together the final pieces of a complex Lego architecture set. Aaden laughed — a bright, clear sound — and leaned over to press his cheek against her arm, leaving a small smudge of chocolate cookie on her sleeve. He was completely, blissfully attached to her.
From the second-floor landing, Justin stood with one arm resting on the wooden railing, a cup of black coffee in hand, looking down at the scene below. His eyes were dark and heavy with a possessive, almost pathological satisfaction. His family was under his roof. He had won. He made a silent vow to destroy anyone who tried to take this from him.
Carmen glanced up casually and caught Justin’s intense, predatory gaze. Her heart skipped a beat, a cold shiver moving down her spine. She looked away quickly and forced a warm smile for Aaden.
It was a terrifyingly perfect portrait of a family — built entirely on a foundation of lies and manipulation.
Fifty miles away, the atmosphere was the exact opposite.
Inside the grand dining room of the Collins family estate in the Hamptons, the tension was so thick it felt as though the air itself might shatter. A lavish French feast covered the long mahogany table, and no one was eating.
𝗟𝘢t𝗲𝗌𝗍 𝘤𝗵a𝗽t𝘦𝗿s 𝗈𝗻
Jocelyn sat rigidly in her chair, wearing a high-necked black silk dress that communicated emotional unavailability as clearly as any words could. Her eyes remained fixed on her plate as she mechanically cut a piece of steak. She hadn’t looked at Gaston once.
Gaston sat directly beside her, his face a thundercloud of suppressed rage. He lifted the silver serving tongs and placed a perfectly seared scallop onto Jocelyn’s plate.
“I don’t want it, thank you,” Jocelyn said. Her voice was flat and cold, and loud enough for the entire table to hear. She pushed the scallop to the edge of her plate.
Gaston’s fingers tightened around his silver fork until his knuckles turned bone-white. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, fighting the urge to overturn the table entirely.
At the head of the table, Elbert Collins set his wine glass down with a heavy thud. The patriarch’s sharp eyes moved deliberately between his son and his daughter-in-law.
“Gaston. Jocelyn,” Elbert said, his voice carrying the absolute authority of a man unaccustomed to being ignored. “What exactly is going on here? If you are having marital difficulties, handle them like adults. Do not bring this freezing hostility to my dinner table p>