The Thomas family members trickled in one by one. Vaughn and Heath, the couple, were already there. Claire stood off to the side with Kathy, helping to greet the guests.
A light drizzle fell as a black SUV slowly rolled into the cemetery, leaving shallow tracks on the wet road. Dennis stepped out of the car, holding a black umbrella, his expression stern.
Raymond spotted Dennis, and a flash of surprise crossed his face. He quickly walked over, and the two embraced tightly in this moment of sorrow.
The crowd buzzed with whispers about Dennis's appearance, his presence undoubtedly adding more to the conversation at the funeral.
Claire stood nearby, dressed in a black dress, a faint sadness on her face.
Melinda gently patted her shoulder, signaling her to go greet Dennis.
Claire walked up to Dennis and nodded slightly, acknowledging him.
Dennis looked at her, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes. He raised his hand slightly, holding the umbrella over her head to shield her from the rain.
At that moment, Rhett approached, seeing Claire and Dennis together, his brow furrowed slightly, and he spoke with a hint of displeasure, "Claire, what are you doing here?"
Dennis, hearing this, pulled Claire closer, shielding her behind him. He looked sharply at Rhett and warned, "I don't think this concerns you, does it?"
Rhett was taken aback by Dennis's imposing presence and found himself at a loss for words. He glared at Claire before turning and walking away.
Gwyneth's gaze remained fixed on Larry's portrait. She knew better than anyone how important Larry was to Raymond. From a young age, Raymond had always relied on Larry, who was his emotional weak spot. Larry's death was a devastating blow to Raymond.
Her opportunity had come. Men often seek the most vulnerable outlets in times of extreme grief. Her chance had arrived.
After the memorial service, friends and family gradually left.
Dennis stayed behind, his deep gaze fixed on the busy Claire, as if contemplating something.
Later, Dennis personally drove Claire to an upscale café. Inside, the lighting was dim, and the music was soft. Claire sat on the sofa, looking at Dennis, her heart filled with anxiety and unease.
With a pleading look in her eyes, she said, "Mr. Dennis Gonzalez, I want to see Mrs. Qiana Gonzalez to explain that the family heirloom was actually lost. Is that possible?"
Dennis looked at her, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
Just then, Ivy appeared suddenly. She walked up to Claire and sneered, "Claire, you really don't give up, do you?"
Claire's heart tightened, and she stood up to leave, but Ivy grabbed her arm.
Ivy dragged her out of the café, speaking harshly, "Claire, I'm warning you, stay away from Dennis. He's not someone you can mess with."
Claire retorted, "Who are you to tell me what to do? What happens between Dennis and me is none of your business."
Ivy was infuriated by Claire's words and raised her hand to strike her.
Dennis rushed out and grabbed Ivy's wrist, his voice cold, "Ivy, try touching her and see what happens."
Claire was startled to see Dennis. She wanted to escape but was stopped by Dennis calling out, "Claire, wait."
Claire looked at Dennis, her heart a mix of confusion and unease.
Dennis stood at the doorway, his gaze intense as he stared at Claire. His tone was serious, "I heard everything you just said."
Claire's heart skipped a beat.
She instinctively tried to explain, "I... didn't mean it like that, I just..."
The words caught in her throat, becoming unclear.
"Just what?" Dennis took a step closer, his gaze seemingly able to see through her, leaving Claire with nowhere to hide.
Claire was overwhelmed by his presence and couldn't form a complete sentence.
Her heart raced, as if it would leap out of her chest. She lowered her eyes, not daring to meet Dennis's gaze. "I... I just don't want to be a fool," Claire finally mustered the courage to say.
Dennis listened to her words, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. He was silent for a moment, then turned and left without another word.
Claire knew that her relationship with Dennis had become delicate and complicated.
She didn't know what would happen next or how to face it all.
Dennis's footsteps faded away, but Claire remained standing there, filled with confusion and unease.
Ivy felt a surge of triumph.
She knew that Dennis had no real feelings for Claire; she was just a tool for him to provoke her. As long as she tried hard enough, Dennis would surely come back to her.
Not long after Claire left the café, her phone beeped with a few notifications. She picked it up and saw a message from Dennis: "Did you get home?"
She paused for a moment, then instinctively replied, "Just got here, and you?"
Dennis responded, "Good, get some rest."
Claire looked at the message on her phone screen, "Being liked by someone isn't a bad thing," and felt a ripple in her heart.
But she didn't want to let herself fall too deep, so she quickly replied, "I'm going to rest now."
Then she pressed the power button, and the phone screen gradually dimmed.
However, Dennis's words had already taken root in her heart like a seed.
Soon after, a few men in black suits entered, blocking her path with expressionless faces.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Claire asked warily.
"Ms. Murphy, please don't be alarmed. We just want to take you to see someone," one of the men said politely.
Claire felt a surge of unease, but she knew she had no choice.
Taking a deep breath, she followed the men into a black Bentley.
They took her to a luxurious hotel.
Taking another deep breath, she gathered her courage and walked inside.
With the men leading the way, she went straight to the top floor, to a presidential suite. The suite was lavishly and elegantly decorated, exuding an air of nobility.
Claire looked around, unable to help but feel a sense of awe.
"Tell me, how much do you want to return the gemstone necklace?" Qiana's voice was low but carried an undeniable authority.
Claire's heart involuntarily sped up, but she kept her head down, not speaking.
Inside, she was already in turmoil, but she tried to keep her voice steady.
She knew that any explanation or argument would be futile at this moment; silence was the best response.