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"Blow them out, Grandma."
Cassie clapped her small hands together, her bright voice echoing off the mahogany walls of the private dining room in the Ritz-Carlton.
Daryl Bush smiled, holding the long lighter away from the cake. He looked at his mother. Marlene sat in her wheelchair, her hands rough and calloused from decades of hard labor, resting on her lap. She stared at the flickering candles on her sixtieth birthday cake, but her eyes kept darting toward the heavy double doors.
"Make a wish, Mom," Daryl said softly.
He reached out and covered her rough hand with his own. He knew what she was looking for. He squeezed her fingers, his voice steady.
"Blaire said she would come after finishing her board meeting. She is on her way."
Cassie tugged at the hem of Daryl's cheap, off-the-rack suit jacket. Her lower lip trembled.
"Did Mommy forget Grandma's birthday?"
Daryl crouched down. He pushed the dark thoughts to the back of his mind and forced a warm smile, ruffling his daughter's soft hair.
"Mommy is very busy, but she promised she would try. We just have to wait a little longer."
A sudden flurry of rushed, arrogant footsteps echoed from the hallway outside, accompanied by the hotel manager's overly eager, fawning voice.
The heavy mahogany doors were pulled open from the outside by two waiters who bowed their heads.
Blaire Doyle stepped into the room. She wore a razor-sharp Chanel haute couture suit. Her face was a mask of frost, her posture rigid and perfect.
Daryl stood up. The breath of relief he was about to exhale died in his throat. His muscles locked.
Right behind Blaire walked a man in a bespoke Savile Row suit. Estevan Montgomery. His mixed-heritage features were striking, his chin tilted up in a display of pure arrogance.
Estevan placed his hand on the small of Blaire's back. It was a light touch, but it screamed of territorial claim.
The smile on Marlene's face vanished. Her fingers gripped the armrests of her wheelchair so hard her knuckles turned white.
"Mommy!" Cassie cheered, running toward Blaire.
Blaire looked down. Her eyes were so cold and empty that Cassie stopped dead in her tracks, shrinking back.
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