Homecoming

Brandon's gaze fell to his mother's hand, gently clasping his own. The enormous pink diamond on her ring finger caught the light, blindingly opulent.

He swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in her eyes.

"I… I..."

His voice trembled.

"I'm so sorry. I was childish and selfish, running away like that."

Tears brimmed in his eyes uncontrollably as he searched for the right words.

Victoria, the eldest sister, cleared her throat, her eyes glistening despite her attempt at composure.

"Well, well. Look who's finally realized he can't survive on his own out there."

There was a trace of mockery in her tone, but Brandon sensed the relief lurking beneath it.

"Did the real world prove too harsh for our little prince?"

Before Brandon could respond, Bailey launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Vickky, cut it out!"

Bailey, Brandon's twin sister scolded, then turned to press a warm kiss on Brandon's cheek.

"You know, beneath that ice princess facade, she was the most worried about you."

Victoria let out an indignant "Hmph!" and turned away, discreetly wiping at her eyes.

Victor, Brandon's dad stepped forward, his hand coming to rest on Brandon's shoulder.

"Son, How are you? What happened after you left? "

"Dad,"

Brandon cut him off, surprising himself with the intensity of his own voice.

"There's no need to apologize. I know our family is always number one in your heart."

He took a shaky breath.

"I was just a childish kid. I've had time to reflect, and I realize now how stupid I was. I'm the one who's sorry."

Strangely, Brandon noticed an brief frown, confusion and worry flashing through Victor's eyes.

Overcome with emotion, Brandon attempted to rise, arms outstretched to hug his father. But his weakened body betrayed him. As darkness crept into the edges of his vision, he felt himself falling.

"Doctor—!"

"Where's the fuc—"

The last thing he registered was the panic on his family's faces, contrasting sharply with the contented smile he couldn't keep from his lips.

=========

[ Blackstone Manor ]

A long, polished mahogany table dominated the space, with Victor Blackstone seated at its head. Annie Montclair, Brandon's mom sat to his right, her usual elegance replaced by a simmering anger.

Victoria and Bailey occupied chairs on the opposite side, their faces expressionless and cold.

Arthur, the maître d', stood stoically behind Victor.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Victor's fingers drummed a quiet, ominous rhythm on the polished mahogany as he spoke.

"We need to discuss what happened to Brandon."

He turned slightly, catching Arthur's eye with a subtle nod.

Arthur stepped forward, his voice steady and professional.

"Young Master Brandon's near-death experience was the result of a violent altercation at his school. The primary instigator was Stanley Donoghue, son of the family who runs the Donoghue restaurant chain."

Annie's fist slammed onto the table, her eyes flashing.

"How dare they touch my son! I want them ruined, Victor. Every last one of them! And not just-"

Victor raised a hand, silencing her outburst.

"Continue, Arthur."

"It appears Stanley harbored jealousy over a classmate, Jennie Kim, a Korean transfer student. Miss Kim had expressed romantic interest in Young Master Brandon, after rejecting Stanley. Brandon did not reciprocate, but nevertheless, Stanley's decided to take his frustrations out on the Young Master."

Bailey leaned forward, her brow furrowed.

"B wouldn't start an altercation. He's always been so nice."

Arthur nodded.

"Precisely. Stanley and his associates ambushed Brandon in the bathroom after the graduation ceremony. In the ensuing struggle, Brandon's head struck the edge of a toilet bowl, resulting in his injuries."

Victoria's lips thinned, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms beneath the table.

"So our brother nearly died because of some petty high school drama? Pathetic."

Her tone was icy, but a flicker of pain crossed her eyes.

"That's quite enough,"

Victor said, his voice low but commanding.

"What matters now is how we respond."

Annie, usually the picture of grace and warmth, transformed into a vengeful fury. Her eyes blazed with maternal rage as she slammed her fist on the table again.

"It's a miracle my baby boy survived! He was dead! Our baby was pronounced dead! Whoever's behind-"

Her voice cracked with anguish before hardening once more.

"Victor if you can't handle it, we Montclairs will."

Bailey and Victoria exchanged shocked glances, taken aback by their mother's uncharacteristic outburst. The elegant, gentle woman they knew had vanished, replaced by a fierce lioness protecting her cub.

Victor nodded calmly, but a ruthless coldness glimmered in his eyes.

His voice was eerily steady as he spoke.

"Annie, darling, please. I'll handle this... appropriately."

Bailey's lips curved into a subtle smile, but beneath the table, her fists clenched tightly.

Victoria turned to Arthur.

"What does the medical report say?"

Arthur cleared his throat.

"The medical team reports that Young Master Brandon is, quite miraculously, in excellent physical condition. He's currently in a recuperative sleep state and is expected to return to normal soon. However—"

He paused, his tone growing more clinical,

"the psychiatric team has noted potential indicators of post-traumatic stress disorder and memory loss. They strongly recommend maintaining a positive, supportive environment to aid in his psychological recovery."

Bailey reached under the table, pinching Victoria's waist hard.

"Ouch!"

Victoria yelped, shooting her sister a glare.

"Be nice to B,"

Bailey hissed, her eyes narrowing in warning.

Victor squeezed Annie's hand, his loving smile a stark contrast to the chilling words that followed.

"I'll handle this little Donoghue family in a way they won't soon forget."

Victor paused before shooting her a reassuring glance,

"Whoever's behind this will pay the price."

======

[ Blackstone Manor – Brandon's Room ]

Brandon's eyelids fluttered open, struggling to focus in the warm, golden light filtering through sheer silk curtains.

For a moment, panic gripped him – where was he?

Then, as his vision cleared, memories of his new reality came flooding back.

'Right,' he thought, 'I'm Brandon Blackstone now.'

The plush mattress cradled his body like a cloud, enveloping him in a cocoon of comfort he'd never known.

He stretched, his fingers sinking into the impossibly smooth Egyptian cotton sheets.

"Mmm," he hummed, relishing the feeling of luxury against his skin.

As his vision cleared, Brandon took in the opulent surroundings. A crystal chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, its facets casting dancing rainbows across the room. Ornate mahogany furniture gleamed, each piece looking like it belonged in a museum, not a bedroom.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet sinking into a thick, hand-woven Persian rug. The intricate patterns beneath his toes told stories of far-off lands and ancient craftsmanship.

"Holy sh—"

Brandon caught himself, still unused to the idea that he could actually speak.

He cleared his throat, savoring the vibration in his vocal cords.

"This is unreal."

He padded across the room, running his hand along the smooth surface of a marble-topped dresser. The cool stone sent a shiver up his arm.

Brandon's reflection stared back at him from an enormous gilded mirror, and he couldn't help but grin at the sight of his tousled silver-grey hair.

"Hello there handsome~"

A gentle breeze carried the scent of jasmine through an open balcony door.

Brandon stepped out, his breath catching as he took in the sprawling manicured gardens below.

Fountains tinkled in the distance, their soothing melody mingling with the chirping of exotic birds dancing in the sunrise.

"I could get used to this," he murmured, leaning against the ornate marble balustrade.