The storm outside raged on, mirroring the chaos simmering within the Jones family. Maxwell remained outside in his wheelchair, his thin clothes soaked through as the rain poured down relentlessly. His frail body shuddered, but he made no effort to seek shelter. His cries for help had gone unheard, drowned out by the storm, and now, exhausted, he simply sat there. His tears mixed with the rain as he silently endured the cold, his small figure almost disappearing in the downpour.
Inside the mansion, the atmosphere was equally tense. Upstairs, Mister Jones paced the length of his study, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. His assistant, Mister Adam, sat at the desk, diligently transcribing the dictation.
"Rynald will inherit the leadership of the pack and the family estate," Mister Jones declared, his voice firm. "He has the strength, the charisma, and the determination to lead. He is everything this pack needs in a leader."
Mister Adam hesitated, glancing up from his notes. "What about Maxwell?" he asked cautiously.
Mister Jones paused mid-stride, his expression softening as he looked out the rain-streaked window. "Maxwell is my greatest worry. He is my late son's child, my grandson—yet his state makes him vulnerable. To ensure his protection, I will divide my assets equally among him, Rynald, and Elizabeth. They will act as his guardians."
Mister Adam's pen hovered above the paper, his brow furrowed. "Do you believe Elizabeth is the right choice?" he asked hesitantly.
The question made Mister Jones stop. Slowly, he turned, his gaze sharp. "Be very careful with your words, Adam."
The firelight cast shadows on the walls as Mister Adam reached into his leather bag. He pulled out a USB drive, its metallic sheen glinting in the dim light. "Sir, you asked me to investigate certain suspicions. The evidence is here," he said, sliding the drive across the desk.
Mister Jones stared at the USB, but before he could pick it up, movement outside the window caught his eye. His heart sank when he saw Maxwell, still sitting in the rain, his head bowed low.
Then he saw her.
A maid, her face twisted with anger, stomped toward Maxwell. She grabbed his hair, jerking his head back, and slapped him hard across the face.
Fury erupted within Mister Jones. His old legs carried him faster than they had in years as he stormed out of the study, barely registering the sound of Mister Adam calling after him. By the time he reached the front yard, Elizabeth was already there.
---
A Nephew's Protector
"How dare you?!" Elizabeth's voice cut through the storm like a whip. She seized the maid's arm and slapped her with enough force to make the woman stumble. "You dare lay a hand on my nephew?"
The maid tried to retreat, but Elizabeth was relentless. She grabbed the woman by the hair, her fury palpable.
"That's enough, Elizabeth!" Mister Jones barked, his voice trembling.
Elizabeth released the maid, though her hands still trembled with anger. Maxwell sat motionless in his wheelchair, his soaked clothes clinging to his frail frame. Mister Jones knelt beside him, his trembling hands cupping Maxwell's pale face.
"My boy," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I am so sorry."
Despite his condition, Maxwell managed to lift a trembling hand to wipe away his grandfather's tears. "I'm fine," he croaked, though his hoarse voice betrayed the truth.
Elizabeth stepped forward, her tone firm. "Father, let me take him inside. He needs to get warm before he falls ill." She wheeled Maxwell toward the mansion, her movements brisk but gentle.
As they disappeared inside, Mister Jones turned to the guards standing nearby. "Escort the maid to the east wing and keep her under watch. I want a full report on her actions by morning."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances but complied.
"Sir," one of them ventured, "why protect her after what she did?"
"She's been Maxwell's maid for years," Mister Jones replied, his tone heavy. "Something isn't right. I need to know the truth."
---
Unearthing Secrets
Back in his study, Mister Jones finally inserted the USB drive into his computer. The files loaded slowly, each second stretching into an eternity. When the contents finally appeared, his breath hitched.
The first file was a series of videos. As he clicked on the first one, the screen lit up with grainy footage of Elizabeth and her teenage son, Rynald.
In the video, Rynald was arguing with Maxwell. The timestamp indicated it was taken months ago, just days before Maxwell's accident. Rynald's voice was sharp, accusing, and full of disdain.
"You don't belong in this pack," Rynald spat, his towering figure intimidating Maxwell. "You're nothing but a burden!"
The video shifted to a different angle, showing Maxwell's wheelchair being tampered with. Rynald's face came into focus as he loosened the screws on one of the wheels, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.
Mister Jones's hands shook as he clicked on the next file. This one showed Elizabeth in a heated conversation with the maid.
"Do whatever it takes to keep him in line," Elizabeth hissed, her expression cold. "He's a liability to this family."
The screen went black as the video ended, leaving Mister Jones staring at his reflection in the dark screen. His own daughter. His own grandson. They had betrayed Maxwell, using cruelty to suppress him and cover their tracks.
---
A Heart Heavy with Truth
Mister Jones leaned back in his chair, his heart pounding. The rain outside had begun to subside, but the storm within his soul was just beginning.
Elizabeth had always been a dutiful daughter in his eyes, and Rynald had shown promise as a leader. But now, the truth shattered those illusions.
He clenched his fists. "They will answer for this," he vowed, his voice low but firm.
As the house settled into an uneasy quiet, Mister Jones steeled himself for the battles ahead. Maxwell's suffering would not go unanswered. The truth was out, and there would be justice—no matter the cost.