Chapter 3

Fifty feet outside the Mcintosh estate gates, the black Maybach remained parked in the dense shade of an oak tree. Abram Davidson sat in the rear seat with his legs crossed. The platinum bezel of his watch caught the afternoon light. His executive assistant turned from the front passenger seat, holding a glowing digital tablet. "Boss, the surveillance team has taken positions around the estate perimeter. Micro-drones are active over the west wing. Our signals are locked onto her mobile coordinates." Abram tapped his finger against the leather armrest. "Maintain full surveillance. Report every movement she makes." He pressed a button on his console, opening the private audio link to Kira's hidden earpiece. "Welcome to the Mcintosh estate, Kiddo," Abram's deep voice sounded over the line. "My team has eyes on the perimeter. You have trouble waiting on the front steps." Kira paused at the base of the wide limestone staircase. Her thumb pressed against the collar of her jacket, activating the tiny microphone. "I told you to leave, Davidson," Kira whispered in a cool, steady voice. "Pull your men back, or I will destroy their equipment." Inside the Maybach, Abram watched through the one-way tinted window. Kira turned her head slightly. Her focused amber eyes locked onto the exact spot where Abram sat behind the dark glass. Abram felt his breath tighten. She had located his position without any scanning gear. A slow smile spread across Abram's lips. Her resistance only increased his fascination. "Take care of your family first, Kira," Abram replied over the link. "I will be right here when you need me." Kira cut the transmission. She turned away from the road and looked up the stairs. Javen Mcintosh remained planted at the top of the marble landing. He made no effort to walk down and welcome his biological sister. He carried the fame of a rising Hollywood actor, and arrogance showed in every line of his posture. Kira climbed the stairs with calm, measured steps. Her posture remained balanced and alert. Javen shifted his frame, stepping directly into her path to block the entrance. "Stop right there," Javen said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Let us make things clear. Charissa is the only sister I recognize in this house. Leave your crude street habits outside." Kira stopped two steps below him. She looked up at the young man who shared her blood. Her face showed complete indifference. He was a stranger to her. "Charissa has delicate health," Javen warned, leaning forward. "If you cause her any stress, or make her feel uncomfortable in her own home, I will throw you out myself." Kira listened to his speech. She pressed the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "Move." Javen blinked in shock. Millions of fans adored him, yet this girl dismissed him with a single word. "What did you say to me?" Javen reached out his right hand, aiming for her shoulder to shove her down the steps. Kira dipped her left shoulder by two inches. Javen's hand grabbed empty air. His own forward momentum pulled him off balance. His leather shoes slipped against the polished marble edge. He stumbled two steps down, grabbing the brass railing to stay on his feet. Kira continued past him without turning her head. She pushed through the double mahogany doors. Javen regained his footing, his face red with humiliation. He pulled his jacket straight, pure anger hardening in his chest. His biological sister had ignored him completely. Inside the grand foyer, a massive crystal chandelier cast bright light over the Italian marble floor. The rapid sound of soft shoes echoed from the curved staircase. "Kira!" A girl dressed in an elegant ivory dress hurried down the stairs. Her eyes were moist with tears, and her lips trembled with practiced emotion. Charissa Mcintosh rushed past Hertha, heading straight toward Kira with open arms. "You are finally home! I have waited for this day so long!" Charissa lunged forward to embrace her, aiming her sharp fingernails toward Kira's exposed neck. Kira noticed the movement of Charissa's fingers. She stepped backward, burying her hands in the pockets of her dark hoodie. Charissa caught nothing. Her arms closed around empty air, leaving her standing awkwardly in the middle of the foyer. Tears formed in Charissa's wide eyes. She bit her lower lip, trembling with manufactured sorrow. "Kira... do you hate me that much?" Behind them, Javen burst through the double doors, his face dark with fury as he saw Charissa crying. Outside the gates, Abram's surveillance team watched the mansion monitors, tracking the conflict unfolding inside.