Chapter 3

The cottage door creaked open, revealing sunlight flooding what was meant to be my exile but felt like an unexpected gift. Jean's attempt to banish me had spectacularly backfired, her thinly veiled displeasure now transformed into my private sanctuary.

"Well, this is a surprise," I whispered, dragging my suitcase inside, the worn wheels catching slightly on the wooden threshold.

The interior charmed me—rustic yet elegant, with fairy lights and greenery adorning walls. White drapery framed forest views, filtering the afternoon light into soft patterns across the polished floor. A modest living room connected to a kitchenette equipped with essential appliances, while a cozy bedroom with bathroom waited nearby. The space was compact but thoughtfully arranged, ensuring everything I needed existed here, minimizing encounters with Jean's contempt.

My fingers traced the wooden countertop as an odd feeling settled over me. Though on my father's property, this space felt mine—a sanctuary from both Jean and everything I'd left in Alabama. The cottage nestled against the Ken jungle carried a strange resonance that eased my anxiety, as if the very walls welcomed me home in a way the main house never had.

"Not bad at all," I murmured, moving my bags to the bedroom.

Mom's voice echoed in my thoughts: "Always unpack the bedroom first, Lina." The memory brought both comfort and an ache of longing. Was she resting now, fighting her battle thousands of miles away?

As I arranged clothes in the simple pine dresser, Kennedy messaged: 'Come to the main house. I'd like to speak with you.'

Of course he wanted to see me now, despite ignoring my airport arrival. Sighing, I slipped on my flats and headed up the stone path that wound through carefully tended gardens.

Jean materialized in the kitchen instantly, her sharp eyes assessing me from head to toe. "There you are. Took you long enough," she said with an exaggerated sigh, checking her watch for emphasis. "Hurry up. Kennedy doesn't have all day."

Her attitude confirmed my suspicions—she wouldn't make my stay easy. The animosity seemed disproportionate given our limited history, but I wasn't easily intimidated anymore. Alabama had taught me resilience.

Following her brisk pace through the sprawling house with its gleaming surfaces and expensive artwork, we stopped at an imposing white wooden door at the end of a long hallway.

At Kennedy's office door, she instructed condescendingly, "Always knock before entering. Kennedy values his privacy," her tone suggesting I might burst in like an uncultured intruder.

"Got it," I replied flatly, knocking while maintaining eye contact. When Kennedy responded, I flashed Jean a smug smile before entering, quietly closing the door on her disapproving expression.

Kennedy's office breathed quiet power—mahogany shelves lined with leather-bound books, large windows overlooking manicured grounds, and a massive desk that dominated the space. He rose from behind it, his face brightening with what appeared to be genuine pleasure.

"Lina! My goodness, you've grown," he said, moving around the desk with open arms.

"It's been two years," I reminded him, accepting his awkward embrace. Our bodies remained stiff, uncomfortable with the forced intimacy our relationship hadn't earned.

"I hope you've found your accommodations satisfactory," he said, gesturing for me to sit in the leather chair opposite his desk. "Jean and I felt you'd prefer your own space now. It should provide privacy from the... activity surrounding the main house."

I nodded, sinking into the chair. "The cottage is very—"

"You," he finished, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, exactly." I crossed my legs, smoothing my skirt. "You weren't at the airport," I added, unable to hide my accusation despite my attempt at casual delivery.

Kennedy's smile faltered. He sighed, fingers steepled together. "I'm truly sorry about that. I'm currently negotiating with a foreign dignitary, and the timing was impossible to rearrange. The deal's success is critical for our expansion plans."

When I mentioned Carl and Ara's reception, the concern that briefly clouded his features quickly cleared at my diplomatic "welcoming enough" assessment.

"Ara, Devin and Barry also work at FaunaSphere, but Carl helps with company affairs," he explained, relief evident in his relaxed shoulders. "The boys have been with us for years—practically family."

The thought of seeing Carl's scowling face regularly didn't thrill me, but I kept my expression neutral.

"Come, I have something for you," Kennedy said, suddenly energized. He led me through corridors and down to the underground garage where sleek vehicles gleamed under recessed lighting.

He stopped before a midnight blue sedan, its paint catching the light like a starlit ocean. Keys dangled from his fingers.

"You got me a car?" I asked incredulously, my hand instinctively reaching out.

"Yes. You're going to change the world, Lina. I have more faith in you than you realize, and while I acknowledge I wasn't there for you before, your presence here marks a new beginning for both of us."

His unexpected sentiment brought tears to my eyes. Looking at him—really looking—past the expensive suit and business demeanor, I saw something genuine in his expression. We shared a hug as I whispered, "Thank you."

I wasn't ready to believe he'd transformed completely, but I'd give him a chance. The weight of the keys in my palm felt like possibility.

"I'm looking forward to creating actual memories," I said, surprised by my own sincerity.

"We will," he promised, checking his watch. "Tonight's family dinner at seven. Jean's preparing her specialty—you'll enjoy it."

Family dinner. The phrase made me want to groan. Forced socialization with Jean and her godsons hardly qualified as pleasurable, especially with the obvious tension. "Sounds wonderful," I lied, managing a smile.

Back at my cottage, I resumed unpacking, hanging clothes in the cedar-scented closet. The late afternoon sun slanted through windows, casting golden rectangles across the floor. I contemplated the coming months at FaunaSphere—professional opportunity amid personal complications. The brothers clearly resented me, though I couldn't fathom why, considering our minimal past interaction.

I arranged my books alphabetically, these trusted companions through past transitions. Between work, my sanctuary, and the surrounding nature, I could build a life despite the main house's tensions. My fingers lingered on favorite spines, drawing comfort from their familiar textures.

As dinner approached, I showered and changed into a simple blue dress, applying minimal makeup. In the bathroom mirror, I squared my shoulders and practiced a confident smile. "You've faced worse. This is just one dinner," I reminded my reflection, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

Outside, twilight descended over the forest, transforming the lush greens into mysterious blues and purples. A movement caught my eye—something shifting between trees at the jungle's edge. I moved to the window, palm pressed against cool glass, peering into gathering shadows. For an instant, golden eyes seemed to watch me, luminous and intelligent, before vanishing into darkness.

A shiver ran down my spine that wasn't entirely fear. The Ken jungle held secrets that might explain its strange pull—the odd sense of recognition I'd felt since arriving. But such thoughts would have to wait; I had a dinner to attend and relationships to navigate.

Grabbing my jacket and keys, I locked the cottage door and started up the path, now illuminated by small solar lights that had activated with nightfall. The main house loomed ahead, windows glowing with warm light that promised a hospitality I wasn't convinced existed.

I couldn't have known then that this evening would change everything, setting me on a path I never could have imagined. Those golden eyes watching from the forest were just the beginning of mysteries that would soon unravel my carefully planned future.