Rising from the Quiet Storm

Sienna adored that charm, so I had never thought to replace it.

Jennifer obviously got the wrong idea, but I did not feel like clearing it up and just answered the call.

Sienna's voice came through, tinged with impatience.

"Dad, you're so slow! The competition's about to start, and Mom's got your favorite snacks. We're nearly there. How much longer will you take?"

I quickly reassured her with a chuckle. "Hold on, sweetie. I'm going to change my shirt, and I'll be right there."

I had every right to demand Alfred pay for the clothes he ruined, but my daughter was pressing me, so I dropped the issue.

After ending the call, I was ready to walk away when Jennifer's grip on my wrist stopped me. Her stunning face was clouded with a flash of rage.

"Who's that woman you were talking to, the one who got you laughing like that?"

I raised an eyebrow and pulled away. "None of your business."

Alfred shot me a venomous look, his eyes betraying a flicker of envy.

"Jen, that's probably one of Nelson's sugar mommies on the line, asking him for a 'sleepover'. Guys like him bring down the whole vibe of our circle," he sneered.

Jennifer kept her cool, shooting him a silencing glare as she snapped, "Cut it out, Alfred. Show some class.

Alfred backed down, seething but silent.

I was taken aback. I never thought Jennifer would take my side.

Alfred and I had been at each other's throats for ages.

He would use my sketches for kindling, so I would use his fancy clothes for firewood. He would dump his meals on me while I would douse him with soup.

However, whenever he complained to Jennifer, she would come after me without a second thought.

She had cut me off financially, even kicking me out into the freezing night.

I had lost all faith in her, so her sudden defense felt both strange and laughable.

I could not stand her two-faced act any longer and walked away without a backward glance.

Jennifer bit her lip, reaching out to me, but Alfred's arms were already wrapping around her from behind.

"Jen, Nelson's just playing games. He knows you're into him, and he's loving the attention. If you chase him, he'll just play you even more. Don't fall for his act!"

I ignored the buzz around me and made a beeline for the locker room.

Once I was suited up and ready to hit the competition floor, security blocked my path.

Alfred was there, looming beside them.

His eyes were stormy as he pointed at me, his voice booming, "That's the guy who crashed the event. Kick him out now!"

The guard eyed me with a stern look. "Sir, your invitation, please."

I raised an eyebrow and replied, "I'm the one running the show here. No invite needed."

The words had barely left my lips when Alfred's mocking laughter cut through the air.

"This event is the brainchild of Ms. Smith and her husband. Nelson, are you going to stand there and tell me you're Ms. Smith's husband? What's the hold-up? Get this liar out of here!"

The guards, wary of crossing Alfred, closed in on me.

"Sorry about this, sir."

They started dragging me away. Dressed in my formal attire, I struggled as I exclaimed, "Hands off! I'm one of the judges!"

In the tussle, my bracelet snapped and hit the floor.

Alfred snatched it up, his face darkening, eyes roiling with envy like poison-tipped arrows aimed at me.

"Nelson, you're the worst! Rejecting Jen in public but clinging to her gift like a secret treasure. Well, I won't let you charm her!"

With that, he chucked the bracelet into a trash can with a loud clatter.

I paused, my voice turning ice-cold. "Alfred, it's game over for you."

That bracelet was a wedding present from Carol Smith herself.

It might have resembled Jennifer's gift, but its value was through the roof.

If Carol, with her dark mood, ever found out someone tossed the love token she gave me, she would probably be furious enough to commit murder.

Alfred's rage spiked at my response, and he lifted his hand to strike me.

However, in a flash, another hand clamped down on his wrist.

A woman's voice, cool and nonchalant with an undercurrent of deadly seriousness, cut through the tension.

"Who do you think you are, daring to touch my husband?"