Chapter 76 Let’s Go See Mom
“So… can you forgive me now for being gone over a week?”
“Maybe.” Amelia’s tone turned teasing, her eyes narrowing playfully. “But you still have to give me time.”
Andrew laughed— low, relieved— then leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Deal.”
The atmosphere between them shifted— victorious, electric.
Amelia set the documents on the coffee table with care, then turned fully toward him, her knees brushing his thigh.
“So what now?” she asked, voice softer, curious.
Andrew leaned back, arms stretching across the couch. “Now we show her the document. She’ll have no choice but to agree— it’s got her signature all over it.” He shrugged, casual, cold. “She has to.”
Amelia studied him for a long moment, then smiled— slow, matching his. “I love it.”
“I know.”
“You should know one other thing.” She leaned closer, lips brushing his ear. “I might just be willing to forgive you right now… if you know the right thing to do.”
Andrew turned his head, catching her mouth in a hard, claiming kiss. “I do.”
She kissed him back, fingers curling into his shirt, then pulled away just enough to whisper:
“Let’s take it to the bedroom. We don’t want Pete walking in on us.”
Andrew’s grin turned wicked.
He stood, offering his hand.
Amelia took it, rising with him.
Together they walked toward the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind them.
Outside, Brooklyn moved on— traffic humming, people passing, life indifferent.
Inside, the forged papers lay on the coffee table— quiet, waiting.
And in the silence between them, a plan ticked forward— cold, certain, unstoppable.
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'THREE DAYS LATER'
The spacious loft apartment in the heart of Brooklyn was bathed in the soft grey light of an 8:00 a.m. Saturday morning. High ceilings soared above exposed brick walls; tall arched windows framed the quiet street outside— early joggers, delivery trucks, the occasional cyclist gliding past. The open-plan living space smelled faintly of last night’s takeout and the clean linen scent of the diffuser Maggie kept running on the console table. Hardwood floors gleamed under recessed lighting that was still off; the only illumination came from the pale sun filtering through sheer curtains.
Andrew walked down the short hallway— bare feet silent on the cool wood— toward the guest room door. He was dressed simply: black T-shirt, grey joggers, hair still sleep-mussed but eyes sharp, alert. He paused outside the door, hand on the knob, then pushed it open gently— hinges whispering.
The room was small but bright— single bed against one wall, navy comforter rumpled, a stuffed dinosaur propped against the pillow. Pete lay face-down on one side of the mattress— dark curls scattered across his face, one arm flung wide, blanket twisted and shoved to the far edge as if he’d fought it in his sleep. His breathing was slow, deep, peaceful.
Andrew crossed the room— footsteps deliberate, almost reverent— then settled on the free side of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight. He rested one hand lightly on Pete’s narrow back.
“Wake up, champ,” he murmured— voice low, warm.
Pete stirred— groggy hum in his throat— then rolled slowly onto his side, facing his father. Curls flopped across his eyes; he blinked once, twice, lashes heavy.
“Hey, Dad…” His voice was thick with sleep. “Is there school today?”
Andrew’s mouth curved— gentle smile. “No.” He kept his tone soft, almost a whisper, palm resting warm on Pete’s thigh. “It’s Saturday.”
Pete’s eyes opened a little wider— still cloudy, but curiosity flickering. A small smile tugged at his lips.
Andrew’s own smile grew— slow, conspiratorial. “I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” Pete echoed— voice rising slightly, sleepy grin spreading. He pushed himself up on one elbow.
“Yes, a surprise.” Andrew nodded— eyes bright. “Do you remember how you’ve been asking to see Mom? Asking when we’d return home?”
Pete sat up fully now— blanket pooling around his waist. “Yes!”
Andrew leaned closer— voice dropping to an excited hush. “Today is the day. We’re returning home. You’ll get to see Mom.”
Pete’s eyes went huge— pupils blowing wide. A delighted grin split his face. “Really?”
“Yes!” Andrew nodded— firm, joyful.
“Yeeeehh!!!” Pete exploded upward— knees bouncing on the mattress, springs creaking wildly. “Finally!” He bounced again— higher— arms pumping, voice cracking with pure glee.
Andrew watched— smile softening into something tender, almost aching. He let Pete bounce three more times— laughing quietly— then reached out, caught him mid-air, steadied him.
“Easy, easy.” Andrew’s voice was warm— fond. “We’re leaving in two hours.”
“Okay, Daddy!” Pete dropped back onto his bottom— still grinning, cheeks flushed with excitement.
Andrew rose— ruffled Pete’s curls once— then turned toward the door. “Get ready, champ. We’ll have breakfast soon.”
Pete nodded vigorously, already scrambling off the bed towards the restroom to get ready in time.
Andrew stepped back into the hallway— door clicking softly shut behind him— smile lingering as he walked toward the kitchen.
Two hours later— 10:15 a.m.— the black 2025 Dodge Challenger SXT sat idling on the driveway of the Brooklyn loft building. Engine growled low— deep, impatient. Andrew was behind the wheel—black long-sleeve crew neck, dark jeans, sunglasses hooked in the collar. Amelia sat in the passenger seat— tailored blazer, slim trousers, hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, expression calm but eyes sharp. Pete was buckled into the backseat— car seat raised high, dinosaur backpack at his feet, eyes wide and bright.
Andrew shifted into drive— tires rolled over gravel— then eased onto the street. The Challenger’s exhaust barked once— sharp— before settling into a low, throaty purr.
The car merged onto the highway— Brooklyn falling behind, trees thickening as they headed toward the wooded estate on the city’s edge.
Thirty minutes later the towering automatic steel gates of the grand estate came into view— black iron, intricate scrollwork. They parted silently as the Challenger approached— sensors reading the transponder. Andrew drove through— gravel crunching under tires— along the private road lined with ancient oaks, then into the circular driveway of the multimillion-dollar mansion.
The house rose ahead— white stone, columns, slate roof, windows like dark mirrors. Several luxury cars were already parked: silver Rolls-Royce, red Ferrari, black Bentley. Andrew pulled up beside them— engine off— silence sudden and thick.
They stepped out. Pete’s sneakers hit the gravel first— he bounced once, eyes huge. Amelia smoothed her blazer— expression composed. Andrew rounded the car— briefcase left in the trunk— took Pete’s hand.
“Let’s go see Mom,” he said— voice gentle.