At Cartier Villa, Sinclair Winery and Vineyard
Sumr and Arlan remained at the Cartier Villa, quietly finishing their breakfast. The air between them was heavy, weighed down by the events of the previous night and their daughter’s actions. Carla was still inside her bedroom, even though it was already past seven in the morning.
"Should I go check on her?" Sumr asked, her voice tinged with worry as she set down her fork. The thought of Carla, isolated and brooding, tugged at her maternal instincts.
Arlan shook his head, his expression firm. "Give her ti. She needs to reflect on her mistakes," he said, his tone steady but laced with disappointnt.
Sumr sighed deeply, her hand fidgeting with the napkin in her lap. "I just... I can’t believe she let this lie continue for so long. How could we not see it?"
"We raised her better than this, Sumr," Arlan replied, his voice quieter now, burdened with regret. "But she chose her own path, and we can’t shield her from the consequences. She needs to face this."
Sumr nodded, though her heart ached. Their family’s reputation had been stained, but more than that, the trust between them and the Lancasters was fractured. "I just hope she understands the weight of what she’s done. For her own sake, more than ours."
Arlan reached across the table, taking Sumr’s hand in his. "She’s our daughter. We’ll guide her through this, but she has to take the first step herself."
Sumr bit her lower lip, her thoughts heavy with guilt and concern. They had done everything in their power to guide Carla as she grew, instilling values of humility and integrity despite the privileges she was born into. Yet, Carla’s actions now raised painful doubts.
’If our teachings truly took root in her heart, she would step forward, admit her mistakes, and apologize to the Lancasters of her own accord,’ Sumr thought, her heart aching.
Her gaze shifted to the window, where she could see Alexander’s villa in the distance, partially obscured by the ongoing construction of the wall. She sighed softly, her voice filled with resignation.
"Alexander seems so wary of Carla now, especially with how he’s started building that wall. Should we consider leaving this villa? It feels like staying here only adds to their inconvenience."
Arlan placed his coffee cup down with a deliberate motion and looked at his wife. "I spoke to Alexander about this earlier today," he said calmly. "I offered to vacate the villa, but he refused. He said it was a gift granted to us by his father, and he respects that. The wall isn’t about driving us away; it’s about creating boundaries after everything that’s happened."
Sumr’s brows furrowed. "He has a point," she murmured, her voice laced with disappointnt. "But Carla... she’s still clinging to the last remnants of hope with him. Even after everything."
Arlan nodded, his jaw tightening. "That’s exactly the issue. She hasn’t let go, and it’s hurting everyone, especially her. But this is sothing she has to realize and address herself. Until she takes responsibility, there’s nothing more we can do."
Carla’s eyes narrowed, her anger simring as she overheard her parents’ conversation. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Instead of joining them for breakfast as planned, she turned on her heel and stord back to her bedroom, her face dark with frustration.
"This is all her fault!" she growled under her breath. "None of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t barged into our lives and ruined everything!"
Carla reached for her phone, her fingers hovering hesitantly over the screen. She scrolled through her contacts until her eyes landed on a particular number. She stared at it, her mind racing as she debated whether to make the call.
Needing air, she stepped out onto her balcony, the cool breeze brushing against her skin. Her frown deepened as her gaze fell on the construction below, the wall Alexander had commissioned to divide their villa from the rest of the Sinclair Winery and Vineyard estate.
The sight of it twisted a knife in her heart. Her chest tightened, and her eyes welled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe them away, letting them fall as mories flooded her mind.
All the monts they’d shared as children... every laugh, every adventure, every quiet conversation under the vineyard’s starlit sky, felt like they were slipping through her fingers. She had worked so hard to stay close to him, even manoeuvring their relationship to the point where a kiss had led to more than friends.
’Was it all for nothing?’ she wondered bitterly. The trembling in her hand betrayed her inner turmoil, her grip tightening around her phone.
Finally, she exhaled sharply, her resolve hardening. She pressed the number and held the phone to her ear.
"It’s ," she said coldly when the line connected. Her voice was steady, yet edged with bitterness. "I’ll proceed as you planned. I’ll do exactly what you said."
She ended the call without waiting for a response. Tossing the phone onto her bed, Carla’s gaze settled on the family photo hanging on her wall. Her expression softened for a mont, then hardened again.
"Even you two..." she muttered bitterly, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and resentnt.
Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she smoothed her hair and squared her shoulders before leaving her room. By the ti she reached the dining table, she wore a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"Good morning," she greeted her parents as she slid into a chair.
"Good morning," her mother replied warmly. "Co and eat. I made your favorite."
"Thank you," Carla murmured, her voice low as she began eating in silence.
The subtle glances exchanged between her parents didn’t escape her notice. Each aningful look felt like a jab, amplifying her frustration. Unable to bear the tension, she finally broke the silence.
"I will apologize to the Lancasters after breakfast," she said flatly, her tone betraying no emotion.
Her mother smiled gently, nodding. "That’s the right thing to do."
Her father, however, leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Make sure it’s not just words, Carla. They deserve sincerity."
Carla clenched her fork tightly, suppressing the frustration threatening to bubble over. She forced a nod, not trusting herself to say more. As her parents continued eating, she ntally steeled herself, her thoughts racing. ’I’ll apologize, but this isn’t over.’
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