"Allison!"
The name left Lauren's lips like a prayer answered.
Seeing Allison walk through the heavy front doors brought a wave of relief so strong it nearly took her legs out. She ran to her daughter in the center of the grand foyer, hugging her so tightly that the world around them seemed to disappear.
Tears welled and spilled over; in that moment, Lauren didn't care who Allison was with. All that mattered was that her daughter was home, and she was safe.
"Mom," Allison whispered, burying her face in the familiar scent of her mother's perfume.
Anna met them both with the same desperate relief, crowding in with warm hugs and tearful kisses.
For a heartbeat, Lauren finally shifted her gaze to Devin. It was a look of quiet gratitude—a single, solemn nod that said everything. But the peace was shattered the moment Alex stepped out from his home office.
The physical echo of his presence made the entire room turn. He didn't move; he simply stood there, a shadow against the light of his study.
"Dad," Allison breathed, her voice small.
Alex just stared at them. His mind was a storm of dark possibilities, his throat so tight he couldn't utter a word. He took a heavy, jagged breath, and in the sudden silence of the house, the only thing he could hear was the frantic thrumming of the blood rushing in his ears.
"You are that boy from six years ago." Alex's voice was a low growl, vibrating through the grand foyer.
"Yes, sir," Devin replied, his voice flat and unbreaking. "I am."
Tension filled the room like thick, grey smoke. It clung to the silk wallpaper and the heavy crystal chandelier.
"Dad, can we talk instead?" Allison stepped forward. "Please. I knew this will happen. But hear me out. It's not what you really think."
Alex's jaw tightened until the bone looked ready to snap. He hated complications. He hated things that didn't align with his perfect, orderly world.
He pulled the gun he had already prepared beforehand.
The metal glinted under the lights.
Click.
The sound of the hammer cocking back was the loudest thing in the room.
"What did you do to my daughter?" Alex demanded. The barrel of the gun was a dark, hollow eye fixed on Devin's chest.
Allison didn't think. She threw herself in front of Devin, her small frame a fragile shield against the steel. "Dad! No!"
"Alex, have you gone mad?" Lauren's voice cracked, a jagged sound of pure terror. She reached out, her fingers trembling. "Please... put that goddamned gun down!"
"Away, Allison!" Alex's voice was absolute ice. "Guns don't kill people. Fathers do."
"No! Dad, please, stop!"
Devin didn't yell. He didn't run. He reached out and gently, firmly, moved Allison behind him. He stepped into the line of fire, closing the distance until he could almost feel the heat radiating from Alex's rage.
"Mr. Ainsley."
The mansion held its breath. Lauren stood frozen like a statue. Anna was a ghost in the doorway, her face drained of color. Even the shadows on the wall seemed to wait for the blast.
Devin's voice was a steady blade in the silence. "I know you won't pull that trigger. To you, I'm just a kid. But I'm standing here anyway. So let's talk. Man to man."
For a heartbeat, time slowed. Alex's hand shook—just a tremor, but it was there. He looked into Devin's eyes and saw something he didn't expect: a calm, terrifying certainty. It was the look of someone who had already lost everything and had nothing left to fear.
Slowly, the heavy barrel of the gun dipped toward the floor.
"OH GOD! Thank you, Alex!" Lauren rushed forward, her sob breaking the spell as she buried her face in her husband's shoulder, trying to anchor him back to reality.
Devin took a slow, deep breath, the first one that didn't feel like it was his last.
"Thank you, Mr. Ainsley, for hearing me out," he said, his voice dropping to a low, respectful calm. "Let us tell you what really happened."
"Get lost now before I change my mind," Alex said, his voice a low, jagged warning. "I don't need to hear any explanation from you."
"But Mr. Ainsley..."
Alex didn't respond. He didn't even look back. He simply turned on his heel, walked into his office, and slammed the heavy oak door. The sound echoed through the foyer like a final gunshot.
The room fell into a hollow silence. Lauren exhaled a long, shaky breath and looked at the two of them. "Just let him be," she whispered, her voice tired but kind. "I'll look after them now. Go, Devin. Before he opens that door again."
"I'll go now, Mrs. Ainsley," Devin said, his voice low and respectful. He turned his gaze toward the two girls, his eyes lingering on Allison for a heartbeat too long. "Allison. Anna."
"Devin, take care," Allison whispered, her voice barely a breath in the large room.
"Bye, Devin," Anna added, her hand resting on Allison's shoulder in a silent show of support.
Lauren stepped forward, her face weary but kind as she walked him toward the heavy front door.
"Thank you for bringing my daughter home safe," she said softly. "I'm so sorry for what happened today. I promise I'm going to talk with Alex."
"I understand, Mrs. Ainsley."
Devin left the Ainsley mansion. He didn't go home straight. He went back to the beach house.
The amount of people gathered outside stunned him.
"Excuse me, excuse me. Let me through. This is my house."
As soon as the reporters saw him, they rushed toward him.
"He's here!"
"Mr. Austin, can you give us a moment?"
The overwhelming crowd, cameras, and reporters made him speechless. They shouted questions he couldn't hear. Flashes exploded in his face.
Photos of him and the Glass House were now all over the news and newspapers. It had reached the Ainsley residence.
"Allison! Look! It's Devin. He's in the news!"
Allison stared in stunned silence, her grip tightening on the newsprint. The headline screamed: ARCHITECTURAL MIRACLE Young Designer's Glass House Survives Typhoon.
"So, this is Devin's 'glass house' you were talking about," Anna said, reading over her shoulder. "He's famous now."
Allison's heart twisted. "Let's go, Anna."
"To where? The beach house?"
"No. I'm going to give my savings to the affected families," Allison said.
"Cool. Now you're becoming the Good Samaritan. Let's go—what are we waiting for?"
In Ainsley's home office, Alex had already read the news. But, as usual, he said nothing; he simply stared at the newspaper.
Then, an unwelcome visitor arrived.
Ben Austin.
Lauren went still. She almost dropped her family heirloom vase. But Ben wasn't alone. She set it aside and cleared her throat.
Ben couldn't pull his gaze away; his eyes were locked on Lauren. He was beaming from ear to ear.
Then Alex stepped out from the office and met them in the hall. His brow furrowed.
Finally, the time has come.