Shonee's POV

So, it's been a week since the kitchen fight.

After the whole debacle, Vincent did the unexpected.

He had Nancy pack her things to go live with her mother.

I don't think I'll ever forget the argument that erupted when he announced it the next morning. Nancy, of course, protested like her life depended on staying here, pulling every excuse from "I need to be near my daughter" to "This is my family's house too."

Mrs. Denver wasn't any better either, scolding Vincent for being "heartless" and "cruel to the mother of his children." But Vincent didn't waver. He was calm, firm, and downright ruthless when he needed to be. He made it super clear that with the unhealthy tension lurking in the house, it definitely wasn't good for both Nancy and me to be living in the same space for now.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of back-and-forth, both mother and daughter left. And just like that, Vincent granted me something I hadn't had since Nancy returned: Peace and Quiet.

What a joy it was to have these two back in my life!

Mirasol and I had the most wonderful time together. We baked cookies (which ended up being more of a flour war than actual baking), painted unicorns on canvases, and even built a pillow fort in the living room.

Then there were the nights with Vincent.

God, those nights.

With no distractions, no interruptions, and definitely no Nancy tension lurking in the background, we rediscovered each other in ways that reminded me why I fell for him in the first place. His touch, his kiss, the way he whispered my name...hm, it was just intoxicating. We spent hours tangled in each other, laughing, talking, and, well, doing things I probably shouldn't detail right now. Let's just say the man knows how to make a girl forget her worries.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I could wake up in the morning and breathe without dread looming over me. I could sip my coffee without plotting how to handle Nancy's next scheme. I could hold Vincent's hand without feeling someone's eyes burning a hole through me.

I could pretty much wish for Nancy to never come back.

But who am I kidding?

I slipped on my black dress and managed to close the short zip at the back. For accessories, I put on a bracelet with matching stud earrings, then checked my hair for the last time.

A knock sounded through the door, and Vincent poked his head in, fully dressed in a black suit and tie. "Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, lemme just grab my bag." I did that and slipped my feet into a pair of peeping toe wedge heels. "Ok, let's go!"

I followed Vincent out, and in a few minutes, he, Mirasol and I were being driven out of the Beckham premises. It was a warm and bright Saturday morning: perfect for a picnic, but not for a funeral.

"So, remind me again why your family, instead of Michael's, organized his funeral." I turned to Vincent on my right. Mirasol sat between us, completely focused on her Candy Crush game.

"Two reasons." Vincent looked up from his phone. "The first is damage control. Michael was an employee at Beckham Incorporated and he unfortunately lost his life during an event we were hosting. The least we can do is organize his funeral as a way of showing our remorse. It's also good for PR as it shows we take responsibility and care about our employees."

I nodded slowly, mulling over his words. "And the second reason?"

"The police are having a hard time finding someone who's actually related to Michael by blood," Vincent explained. "All they've come across are close friends and some kind townsfolk who consider him family. But as for actual relatives? No luck."

"Really?" My eyebrows flew up. "What about his parents?"

"Deceased," Vincent simply replied in a heavy tone. "Michael's dad was declared missing years ago until his body was found rotting in a ravine. Not long after, his mum passed away from a drug overdose."

"Oh my God," I murmured.

"Yeah, and that's not all," Vincent added grimly. "Michael was a runaway. He left home when he was a kid, and the fact that there are no records of him being reported missing pretty much cements the possibility that his family didn't care much about him. The police have spent weeks digging into his background, and the closest relative they've found is an old drunk who happens to be Michael's uncle. But even he barely knows Michael. He said he only met him once when he was a baby."

"Will he be there?" I asked quietly.

Vincent nodded. "He has to be. He's the closest link to Michael's birth mother, even if they were estranged."

I sighed and turned to look out the window. Hearing Michael's story reminded me of how tough my own childhood was, growing up with a single mum and an absentee dad. There were days I felt like running away, too. But I'd think of how worried my mother would be and dismiss the idea. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Michael, though... he had actually done it. I couldn't imagine how his life must've been after that.

The car slowed to a stop in the parking lot of some buildings, and my eyebrows dipped low. "Wait, why are we here? I thought we were heading straight to the cemetery."

"We are, but..." Vincent paused like he didn't want to say what he was about to say. "Mirasol and I are gonna have to switch cars."

Just then, a big black SUV pulled up in front of us, and one of the tinted side windows descended, revealing Nancy's big coconut-shaped head as she eyed our vehicle.

A sigh left my mouth, and I crossed my arms, realizing what this was all about.

Vincent began. "Shon—"

"I get it, Vincent," I interrupted. "You can't be seen arriving with the slutty nanny instead of your wife."

"You're not a slutty nanny, and you know it." He leaned over to kiss me slowly but passionately. "I love you."

"Love you too." Though the kiss was brief, I enjoyed it so much that I couldn't stop smiling at him.

"Dadddyy!" Mirasol whined. "You're crushing me!"

Vincent laughed, "Sorry, sweetheart."

After a few minutes of convincing Mirasol to switch cars, Vincent and his daughter stepped out and entered Nancy's awaiting SUV. Once everyone was settled, the car began to move and mine followed after theirs.

Within twenty minutes we arrived at the cemetery. The burial grounds stretched out in a haunting yet serene place. Tall oak trees bordered the area with their leaves rustling gently in the wind. Rows of headstones lined the green grass, some adorned with flowers, others standing bare. Not far off, a podium had been set up near a cluster of chairs with a casket, I presumed was Michael's, in front of it.

The press was out in full force, reporters loitering around with notepads and cameras slung over their shoulders. Off to the side, a woman with a microphone was speaking animatedly to the camera, broadcasting live coverage of the event. I managed to catch snippets of her words: "...a tragedy for the Beckham empire as they lay one of their most valuable employees, Michael Percy, to rest today..."

Not far off, Vincent, his parents, Nancy, and their children were shaking hands with mourners. The photographers didn't miss a beat, capturing every handshake, every polite smile. Yep. Trust the Beckhams to make everything a media frenzy.

However, I was surprised that the ever-present fashionista, Avril Payne, was nowhere to be seen. Given her relationship with Michael, I expected to see her here, paying her last respects to her little boy toy. But now that I thought deeply about it, it made sense that she wasn't here. I mean, looking at the way her father reacted when he found out about their scandalous affair, he'd probably skin her alive if she made an appearance.

A voice crackled over the microphone at the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, the service will begin shortly. Please make your way to your seats."

Sighing, I moved toward the seating area. As I passed, a framed picture of Michael caught my eye, making me stop. It was propped up on an easel surrounded by white lilies. Beneath it, an inscription read: In Loving Memory of Michael Percy. Age: 35.

I paused, staring at his face. Seeing it brought back memories I hadn't thought about in a while, like the first time I met him at Vincent's birthday dinner. He'd been so forward, flirting shamelessly with a kiss on my hand. Later, we ended up working together against our will on Avril's extravagant engagement party. I remembered how funny he was, cracking jokes about the things Avril wanted, like how she wanted the patterns in her wedding dress to match the cake. Back then, I honestly thought we could've been friends, but that was before he grew wings and decided to blackmail Vincent after discovering our affair.

"Excuse me, ma'am." A soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see a young woman holding out a broad card-like pamphlet. "This is the program outline." She gestured toward the rows of chairs. "Please take a seat."

"Thanks," I murmured, accepting the program and finding a spot in the middle row. I scanned the program briefly before tucking it into my bag.

As I settled in, the Beckhams made their way to the front row. Nancy held Ben in her arms, beaming like she was on the red carpet, as the cameras clicked away. Vincent walked beside her, looking stoic while Mirasol clutched his hand.

My gaze soon shifted to the front entrance, where two familiar faces stood: Detective Wiley and Detective Arimo. They weren't mingling or participating. They just stood there, scanning the crowd like hawks. My eyebrows dipped low. Why the heck are they here when there's a murderer on the loose? I wondered. They sure as hell aren't going to find him here.

Just then Ruben's eyes landed on me and my frown deepened. He didn't tear his gaze away, though. Instead, his eyes grew dark, intense, filled with something I couldn't quite place. We stared at each other for a moment too long before I broke it off, turning my attention to the front.

*****