Andrea's face flushed with anger; she hadn't anticipated Tate would stubbornly argue rather than succumb to her commands.
Determined, she strode toward Lucas Anderson, positioning herself protectively in front of him. "Go ahead and shoot, but you have to go through me to get to him," Andrea spat out fiercely, her gaze at Tate filled with a fiery rage.
At once, Tate's hand dropped, his heart pounding. The thought of directing a gun at Andrea was inconceivable to him. "Listen to me, Andr..."
"Enough. There's no need for you to show up at the mansion to welcome us. We'll meet at the cemetery tomorrow," Andrea cut him off sharply.
Having said her piece, she grasped Lucas Anderson's arm and headed for one of the parked cars. Tate's gaze followed her departure, his expression a mix of complexity and frustration, as Lucas, carrying Pete in his arms, joined her, and they all entered two cars and left the airport.
With Tate's gun lowered, his bodyguards also refrained from aiming at Lucas Anderson.
Tate ran a hand through his hair, vexed, and kicked a bottle lying on the ground in frustration. "Damn it!" he exclaimed.
"Tate, what are we going to do now?" one of the nearby bodyguards asked, clearly bewildered.
"I don't know. She doesn't want us at the mansion, so we'll respect that for now and keep an eye on any activity there," Tate muttered, still agitated. He walked to his car, got in, and drove off from the airport, lost in thought.
His intention had been to coerce Lucas Anderson into submission, but the prospect of Andrea risking her life for someone he considered an imposter had rendered his calculated plan useless.
Driving aimlessly through the city, his frustration mounting, Tate finally slammed on the brakes near a building adorned with a sign that read "NightLife Best Escorts Point."
Stepping out of his car, he leaned against the door and lit a cigarette, the smoke swirling upwards as he took a drag and exhaled.
"Mr. Singers, I'm sorry, I've failed," he muttered to himself. After finishing his cigarette, he crushed it underfoot and headed toward the entrance of NightLife Best Escorts Point.
Even in broad daylight, the establishment buzzed with activity. Near a pole-dancing area, scantily clad women performed for a crowd of men who were tossing money and reveling in the spectacle.
"Champ, fancy a drink with me to unwind? I don't charge much for a good time afterward," a bold woman approached Tate, her tone seductive and accompanied by a wink.
Tate found himself captivated by her beauty, and despite his surprise at finding such an attractive woman at this kind of place, he was momentarily speechless.
"Silence is consent," she declared with a grin, taking Tate's arm and guiding him to a private room.
Once inside, she pushed him onto a couch and peered down at him. "We have a variety of cigarettes here, and what type of alcohol would you prefer?" she inquired.
Tate cleared his throat, which had gone dry, but his voice came out barely audible.
"Oh, a virgin, are we?" she chuckled in surprise, not expecting a man in his late twenties to be so inexperienced.
"You'll appreciate my selection," she assured him, turning to leave the room. When she returned, she brought a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
She sat close to Tate, whose muscles tensed and face reddened with nervousness. It was his first encounter this intimate with a woman.
She handed Tate a glass filled to the brim, which he accepted and sipped from.
"You look troubled. You can talk to me; I'm a good listener," the woman offered, lighting a cigarette for herself.
After a moment's hesitation, Tate began to confide in her. "I was supposed to keep her safe from harm, but I couldn't... I've let my dad down. He's done so much for me, and yet I couldn't even protect his daughter."
He sighed despondently, and the woman, sensing his sorrow, encouraged him to drink from her glass. "Don't be so hard on yourself. There are always future opportunities to make amends. You're young; just because you can't do something now doesn't mean you won't be able to in the future."
Tate's eyes briefly brightened at her words, but they quickly grew heavy, his speech slurred, "You're right..."
Before long, his head lolled to the side, and he succumbed to sleep.
****
When Andrea and Lucas Anderson arrived at the mansion, Andrea was clearly troubled. She felt a profound need to apologize to Lucas and to explain the unsettling events that had transpired at the airport.
Upon reaching their grand residence, Andrea bypassed the staff who were preparing for a welcome-home ceremony. Instead, she brought Lucas straight to her bedroom.
Once inside, Lucas's gaze was immediately drawn to numerous adorable baby pictures of Pete. Andrea, visibly anxious and fidgeting with her fingers, attempted to break the ice by mentioning Pete's childhood antics. "Pete was a mischievous child, always crying, but he would calm down instantly in my arms," she said, her voice tinged with nervousness.
Lucas, sensing her tension, patiently listened while examining the photos, though he knew this was not the core issue Andrea wanted to discuss.
After a brief pause, Andrea finally began, "Val, I am so sorry. I can't seem to find the words to explain why my brothers have been so hostile towards you, I—"
But Lucas interrupted her gently, "I've been told that the sunset over the mountains in Sunshine City is breathtaking. What do you say we go for a drive and see it for ourselves?"
The suggestion lit up Andrea's face with happiness. "Sure," she agreed eagerly.
Hand in hand, they walked down the staircase, through the house where the staff were busy with decorations for Pete's birthday the following day.
They stepped into a car and drove away from the mansion. Just ten minutes into their journey towards the serenity of the mountains, their home was besieged by masked men.