Chapter 118 The unexpected visitor
Hannah
I follow Lisa down the stairs, my heart already starting to pick up speed.
“Who is it?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She doesn’t answer immediately.
Which, again, is not reassuring.
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and I step into the living room…
And stop.
There’s a man standing there.
He turns the moment he hears us.
And his eyes land on me.
They move over me in a quick sweep—not subtle, not polite…assessing.
I stiffen instinctively.
He’s tall.
Not as tall as Timothy, but still above average.
Slim build.
Brown hair, styled a little too perfectly, like he’s spent extra time making sure every strand stays in place. It almost looks… stiff.
There’s a faint, sharp scent in the air.
Cologne.
Strong.
Clinging.
Too much.
He smiles.
Easy.
Confident.
But something about it feels off.
“I was expecting Timothy,” he says smoothly. “But this is a pleasant surprise.”
I don’t smile back.
“Who are you?” I ask.
He chuckles lightly, like he’s amused by my directness.
“Straight to the point,” he says. “I like that.”
I cross my arms slightly.
He tilts his head.
“And you are… Mrs.?”
“Hannah,” I say evenly. “Hannah Blackwood.”
Recognition flickers across his face.
“Ah,” he says. “So you must be the wife.”
The way he says it…
Like it’s something to taste.
Something to weigh.
I don’t like it.
“And you are?” I press.
He opens his mouth to answer…
But before he can…
The front door opens.
Both of us turn.
Timothy walks in.
And the moment he sees the man…
He stops.
Completely.
It’s subtle.
But I catch it.
That split second of stillness.
Of recognition.
Of something tightening.
The man’s smile widens.
“Hello, brother,” he says casually.
My head snaps toward him.
Brother?
Timothy’s jaw clenches.
“What a surprise,” he says, voice flat. Controlled.
“Donald.”
Donald.
The name hits something faint in my memory.
Something I’d heard once.
Long ago.
But never thought about again.
“Wait,” I say, looking between them. “Brother?”
Donald glances at me, grin still in place.
“Well,” he says lightly, “stepbrother. But same difference, right?”
He shrugs.
“My mother is Yvonne.”
And just like that….
It clicks.
Oh.
Oh.
That makes sense.
Too much sense.
Timothy’s expression hardens.
“What are you doing here?” he asks bluntly.
No warmth.
No welcome.
Just irritation.
Donald doesn’t seem fazed.
“Just got back into the country,” he says casually. “Thought I’d stop by. Say hello.”
He looks around like he owns the place.
“Catch up.”
Timothy doesn’t move.
“Done?” he asks. “You can leave.”
I blink.
Okay.
That’s….
Direct.
Donald lets out a small laugh.
“What’s the rush?”
Then he turns to Lisa like Timothy didn’t just dismiss him.
“Dinner time, right?”
Lisa stiffens slightly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Perfect,” Donald says brightly. “I’ll join.”
Before anyone can object, he gestures lightly.
“Lead the way?”
Lisa hesitates for the briefest second.
Then nods.
“This way.”
He follows her like it’s already decided.
Like he belongs here.
Like he was invited.
I watch him go.
Then slowly turn back to Timothy.
His posture is rigid.
Shoulders tight.
Jaw set.
There’s a tension in him I don’t think I’ve seen before.
Not like this.
I step closer.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
He exhales through his nose.
Short.
Controlled.
“Is he…” I hesitate. “A friend or an enemy?”
His lips twitch slightly.
Not quite a smile.
“Family,” he says.
The way he says it…
Makes it sound worse.
I tilt my head slightly.
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
He sighs.
Runs a hand through his hair briefly.
“I don’t know why he’s here,” he admits. “He doesn’t just… show up.”
There’s something in his tone.
Suspicion.
Wariness.
Like this isn’t just an awkward family visit.
Like it means something.
Before I can ask more…
“Are you two coming?” Donald’s voice carries from the dining room. “Before the food gets cold?”
Timothy’s jaw tightens again.
He mutters under his breath.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
I glance at him.
Then nod.
“Okay.”
We walk toward the dining room together.
And as we step inside….
Donald is already seated.
Relaxed.
Comfortable.
Like he’s been here a hundred times before.
Like he never left.
Something in my chest shifts uneasily.
Because I don’t think this is going to be a simple dinner.