Chapter 3 - The Summoning of the TitanThe thirty-minute drive from Manhattan to Westchester was reduced to twenty minutes as Mason Hart’s armored Mercedes G-Wagon tore up the private driveway, tires screeching against the gravel. Mason threw the vehicle into park, flung the door open, and sprinted toward the front entrance, his tie flying over his shoulder.
He had never heard Arthur Kingsley sound like that. The cold, apocalyptic fury in the older man’s voice had sent ice water straight through Mason’s veins.
Mason burst through the front door, panting, ready to face a corporate disaster. Instead, what he found froze him in his tracks.
His mother, Evelyn, sat in the wingback chair by the fireplace, wrapped in a warm cashmere throw, a cup of chamomile tea in her hands. Standing beside her, speaking in low, comforting tones, was Arthur Kingsley.
And huddled near the grand staircase, weeping hysterically with smeared mascara running down her cheeks, was Bianca.
“What… what is going on?” Mason demanded, his chest heaving as he stepped into the foyer. He looked between Arthur, his mother, and his sobbing fiancée. “Arthur? Why are you here? What happened?”
Arthur Kingsley turned slowly. The expression on his face was not one of professional disappointment; it was pure, unadulterated disgust.
“Look at your mother, Mason,” Arthur said, pointing a steady finger toward Evelyn.
Mason frowned, his confusion turning to unease. “My mother? She’s fine. She’s resting. Bianca takes care of her while I’m—”
“Takes care of her?” Arthur interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a razor. “Is that what you call forcing a seventy-eight-year-old woman with failing joints to kneel on the floor and scrub your fiancée’s feet?”
The words hung in the air, heavy, toxic, and utterly shattering.
Mason stared at Arthur, his brain refusing to process the sentence. “What? What are you talking about? That’s insane. Bianca would never—”
“I saw it with my own eyes, Mason,” Arthur said coldly. “I walked through those front doors twenty-five minutes ago. I watched your mother on her knees, scrubbing soap off your fiancée’s feet while that creature sat on the sofa scrolling through her phone. And when I walked in, do you know what your beloved fiancée screamed at the top of her lungs?”
Arthur stepped closer to Mason, his eyes locking onto his protégé’s terrified gaze.
“She screamed: ‘I told you to scrub my feet before guests arrived, you useless old fool!’”
Mason staggered backward as if he had been physically struck in the chest. He turned his head slowly, his eyes wide and bloodshot, fixing on Bianca.
“Bianca…” Mason whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying blend of shock and rising fury. “Tell me he’s lying. Tell me this is a sick joke.”
Bianca stopped crying instantly. The mask of the helpless, misunderstood victim shattered entirely, replaced by a desperate, snarling fury. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and glared at Evelyn.
“She’s a manipulative old liar!” Bianca shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at Evelyn. “She planned this! She hates me! She’s been trying to sabotage our wedding since day one! You weren't here, Mason, you don't know how difficult she is! She dropped water on my foot on purpose, and I just told her to clean it up! Is it a crime to expect basic household help from a woman who sits around doing nothing all day?”
The confession slipped out raw and unfiltered. Bianca didn't even realize what she was saying in her panic; her arrogance had completely blinded her.
Mason stood frozen, the blood draining completely from his face. The reality of what he had allowed into his home—what he had forced his aging, fragile mother to endure while he was chasing profits and status—crashed down on him with the weight of an avalanche.
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“You… you made her scrub your feet,” Mason whispered, his voice dropping an octave, shaking with a rage that terrified even Arthur Kingsley.
“She’s your mother, she’s practically a servant anyway!” Bianca screamed back, losing all remaining control. “And if you have a problem with that, remember who signed the prenup! Remember whose father is backing your entire logistics expansion! You need me, Mason! Without my family’s money, you’re nothing!”
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