Chapter 5 Scones With Cream

• *Sylvester’s POV*
• I found solace in the retreat of my home; the buzzing crowd outside my world threatened to exacerbate my vexation. How audacious of her to cast a disdainful glance my way over that wretched Cecani! Does she possess any inkling of my standing?
• Queenie, witnessed my discreet return late last night, and by now, the details might have found their way to my father's ears.
• *****A reluctant acknowledgement nudged me to rise from bed.******
• Navigating through the dimly lit hallway, my unkempt appearance clouded my vision. In the bathroom, I encountered Lilly, poised to release her grievances. Anticipating her complaints, I swiftly covered her mouth before she could articulate a single word.
• "I'll inform Father about your illicit encounter with the Grey boy," I threatened.
• Lilly, caught red-handed, understood the gravity of the situation. Crucially, she recognized the leverage I held—Father's disdain for the Greys, a sentiment fuelled by Timothy Grey's betrayal as a state witness.
• In response, Lilly offered a subtle smile, gracefully stepping aside. "Shall I prepare your coffee?" she proposed.
• "Good girl," I grinned, promptly slamming the door in her surprised face.
• As I descended to the breakfast table, it became apparent that my mother alone greeted my presence with enthusiasm. Jasper and Damion, engrossed in back-to-school preparations, seemed oblivious to my return. My father sat across from me, Zack, the loyal butler, dutifully serving up his coffee.
• "What brings you home?" Father inquired with a condescending tone. I met his gaze and replied, "Business. Just yesterday, I managed to sell a kilogram of Pregas in less than 30 minutes at Black Ball College."
• My mother, the mediator, intervened, firmly putting her foot down, "Not at the table." Both my father and I acquiesced, nodding in agreement. A hushed comment from Jasper, delivered when my mother's attention waned, reached my ears, "suck up."
• I couldn't help but crack a smile at the sly remark. Yet, a sudden and unexpected sensation jolted me as the touch of cream from the scones lingered on my lips. It triggered memories, an involuntary flashback to her.
• Her image flashed before my eyes, and the subtle fragrance of peaches encompassed me. A tingling sensation crept up my groin, momentarily drawing me into a world of reverie. Her lips possessed a softness unparalleled by any touch I had experienced. A submersion into a luxurious sensation reserved for a select few.
• “Sylvester!” my father's impatient voice snapped me back to reality. "Your mother is talking to you," he reprimanded, annoyance evident in his tone. Despite the shared blood, my father held a stringent stance against anyone disrespecting his wife, my biological mother. Forgiveness was a rare commodity in such instances.
• Turning towards my mother, I delicately placed the scone on the plate. "Apologies, I tuned out," I conveyed to her, conscious of the watchful eyes around the table, each awaiting my next words.
• Inquisitive Lilly couldn't resist probing further. "What were you thinking about?" she inquired.
• Casting her a cautionary look, I replied, "I'm contemplating a new tattoo."
• "About what?" she persisted.
• Directing my gaze to my hand, I gestured, "A bullet with the inscription, 'no space for betrayal.'”
• A hushed quiet fell over the table, each person grasping the weight of my words. Given Lilly's favoured status in my father's eyes, he swiftly came to her rescue. "Stop being rude to your sister," he admonished.
• I nonchalantly shrugged my shoulders and resumed plating out, sidestepping the dreaded scone I had started eating. My resolve was clear; before I departed, I needed to visit Cathy.
• My father and I delved into formulating an action plan for Black Ball as I prepared to return to River Mouth University. He emphasized the urgency for me to depart promptly, ensuring ample time for a visit to my Uncle Sam in Borneth.
• Borneth, a quaint town not far from Gry State, served as a convenient pit stop on my journey. Calculating the distance from Gry State to Beredes, I anticipated a manageable two-hour drive. Throughout our conversation, the lingering thoughts of Sandra haunted my mind, causing me to shake my head in a futile attempt to dispel them.
• Recognizing my distracted state, my father finally expressed concern. He insisted I sit down, a gesture that conveyed his expectation for undivided attention. "What is bothering you? I can't send you on a mission when your head is not in the game," he remarked.
• Those were just polite words to say I was disappointing him. In response, I offered a dismissive assurance, "It's nothing," concealing the truth of the persistent thoughts about Sandra.
• His eyes bore into mine with scepticism, and he addressed the unspoken concern. "It better not be about a girl. Business always comes first. Your mother can attest to that."
• Despite my denial, a nagging feeling told me he was not entirely convinced. The notion of seeking my mother's perspective crossed my mind. As we concluded our business discussions, I packed a bag in preparation for the impending journey.
• Standing by the door of their bedroom, I motioned to my mother, silently requesting entrance. "Father loves you more than anyone ever recorded in the history of love," I began as I walked in.
• A warm smile graced her soft features, and before I could continue, she interjected, "But business comes first."
• A chill swept over my face; its descent as swift as the spoken words. Every attempt to emulate my father's prowess had met with failure so far. If my pursuit faltered now, especially because of a girl, the looming threat of disownment hung over me like an ominous storm cloud.
• The words my mother uttered before me shattered the lofty aspirations I held. "I am on my way out. Have a good day," I uttered a forced civility masking the turmoil within. I gradually distanced myself, offering my mother a faint smile while silently pleading for assistance through my eyes.
• Returning to the solace of my room, I perched on the edge of my bed, my head cradled in my fists as I sought to regain focus.
• Sandra, I convinced myself, was nothing more than a passing acquaintance—a girl with alluring lips who wouldn't fit into the intricate tapestry of my world. Yet, as I grappled with the fragments of my composure, the echo of her presence lingered, complicating the seemingly straightforward threads of my ambitions.
• “I believe you're being too hard on him,” my mother voiced her concern to my father.
• “If he's to become a successful Don, he needs toughening up. If I had been weak, do you think I would be where I am today?” my father countered, his tone resolute.
• In her sweetest voice, my mother attempted to coax him, “Had you been weak, as you put it, my father would have freely given you his blessing.”
• “He handed you over in marriage, all the same. Sylvester needs to make it on his own. I won't allow you to shield him anymore,” my father cautioned.
• Eavesdropping at the door, I felt a warmth in my heart knowing my mother could still perceive the fragile boy within me. Yet, I couldn't disclose my thoughts about Sandra to her.
• Leaving with a heavy heart, I dialled Cathy as I made my way to the car. She agreed to meet me not far from the country club. Waiting by the lake, I parked, my mind adrift with the rhythmic ripples of the water.
• Initially thinking I needed her presence and the warmth of her touch; I soon realized it was a mistake to call her. Engaging in polite conversation, I assured her of my support when she arrived at River Mouth for her first year.
• The drive to Borneth commenced with the resonant jazz of my favourite song accompanying the flickering glow of countless cigarettes.