Chapter 2 Spare Me The Crocodile Tears

The wind howled, and snowflakes speckled Cailey's dress in a flurry of white. Michael radiated a chill colder than the storm swirling around them.

Soon enough, murmurs rippled through the gathered crowd.

"Is that the illegitimate son of Mr. Morris? Mr. Morris had no children with Cailey. Rumor has it he had plans to bring this illegitimate son home and make him the heir to the Morris family," one spectator whispered.

"And then what happened?" another asked, leaning in with interest.

"Ah, then? Mr. Morris became infatuated with Cailey. She refused to let the illegitimate son reintegrate into the family. Consequently, Mr. Morris had no choice but to send him away!" a third interjected.

"Looks like the illegitimate son has returned to claim what's his," someone else added, nodding towards the brooding figure.

"Who knows? Perhaps he's here for revenge against Cailey. Without her interference, that young man, Michael, might have had a different fate," another said.

"She deserves whatever comes her way. Cailey's been in the Morris family for years without providing an heir. Likely, she'll be ousted before long," another spectator said.

"And a beauty like that... perhaps I'll have some fun with her one day," someone exclaimed with a chuckle.

The strong wind muffled the cruder, harsher whispers that followed.

Amidst the storm, Cailey stood firm, clutching her handkerchief. Her gaze was fixed on the casket as it was solemnly lowered into the earth.

Tears stained her cheeks, making it clear that she genuinely loved her late husband.

......

Outside, the snow pelted relentlessly against the windows. Inside, a fire crackled warmly in the hearth, bathing the room in a cozy, gentle light.

After the funeral, once all the guests had departed, Cailey and Michael were left alone in the grandeur of the villa.

It was the first time Cailey had met Michael, and while she maintained the image of a grieving widow, her eyes persistently drifted to him as she tried to discern his thoughts.

Michael reclined on the leather sofa, his legs crossed and demeanor unruffled.

He exuded an air of authority, seeming more the master of the house than Cailey ever did.

When Michael's gaze met hers, Cailey mustered a weary, feigned smile. "Your father often spoke of you," she said softly.

A soft scoff escaped Michael's lips. His cold and detached eyes bore little resemblance to Bobby's.

When Michael looked at Cailey, it was with undisguised scorn.

"Do you lie as effortlessly as you breathe?" he asked, his voice dripping with contempt.

Cailey's fingers tightened around her handkerchief, her face momentarily stiffening.

Michael was proving difficult to deceive.

Cailey's eyes brimmed with tears that quickly spilled over as she adopted an expression of shocked innocence.

"How... how could you say such a thing?" she stammered, pretending to be confused.

"Spare me the crocodile tears," Michael retorted, smirking. "That act only fooled my naïve father."

Cailey's expression shifted momentarily before she bowed her head to figure out her next move. Just then, the echo of footsteps approached.

The butler, Phillip Jackson, appeared and bowed slightly. "Mrs. Morris requests your presence," he informed with formality.

The inevitable confrontation was upon them.

Cailey nodded faintly and followed Phillip to the study on the second floor.

The study was adorned with priceless art and dominated by a grand crystal chandelier, which loomed ominously overhead like a sword. The warmth from the fireplace did little to ease the chill Cailey felt.

At the desk sat Connie Morris, Cailey's mother-in-law, in a black gown complemented by a matching lace hat. Her visage bore signs of weariness, yet her demeanor remained as commanding and dignified as ever.

Beside her stood Laurence, the younger brother of Cailey's late husband.

More than two decades younger than Bobby, Laurence was at the age of thirty, his mature presence accentuated by his impeccably tailored suit.

Cailey had always been intimidated by Laurence but even more so by Connie. Now, faced with both, her anxiety was palpable.

Following close behind, Michael stepped up beside Cailey.

"Grandma, Uncle Laurence," he said, nodding coolly.

Connie and Laurence shifted their attention to him.

Connie's stern expression softened instantly when she heard Michael call her grandma. "Mike, you've been through so much these past few years," she said softly.

"It's all in the past now, Grandma," Michael responded with a slight nod, his tone both respectful and resolute.

"Now that you're home, I assure you, you won't be sent away again," Connie said.

With that, her gaze drifted pointedly towards Cailey.

A chill ran down Cailey's spine as she lowered her gaze, silenced by fear.

Everything was clear now.

Michael's return at the funeral had been orchestrated by Connie and Laurence, with their full backing.

Years ago, Cailey persuaded Bobby to keep Michael away, and Connie had always resented Cailey for it.

While Bobby was alive, Connie's hands were tied. But the situation had shifted dramatically.

With Bobby gone, the Morris family seemed poised to cast Cailey out.