Chapter 3 - Frustration

As Butler Wycliffe turned to lead the way, Deus followed with measured steps, his mind still weighed down by the unresolved turmoil.

Each footfall echoed through the corridor, a somber prelude to the impending confrontation.

With each passing moment, his apprehension grew, mingling with a simmering anger towards the unknown woman who had disrupted his life.

As they reached the threshold of the living room, Deus took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.

With a steady resolve, he stepped into the room, ready to face whatever awaited him, be it the disappointment of his parents or the unsettling presence of the woman who had cast a shadow over his happiness.

As Deus stepped into the living room, he was met by the imposing presence of his father, seated at the head of the room with an aura of authority that seemed to fill the space.

Beside him, sat his mother, her expression a mixture of concern and sternness, adding to the palpable tension in the room.

"Deus," his father's voice cut through the silence, commanding attention with its weight.

"We need to have a discussion."

Deus nodded, his demeanor composed as he took a seat across from his parents.

"Deus Wycliffe, I demand an explanation. Who is that girl?!" David Wycliffe's voice boomed through the room, his eyes flashing with anger as he locked his gaze on his son.

His expression was a turbulent mix of shock and disappointment, the lines of his face etched with frustration.

Beside him, Madam Elizabeth Wycliffe observed Deus with deep concern, her usually serene demeanor overshadowed by the worry lines etched across her forehead.

Her eyes, usually soft and kind, now held a hint of apprehension as she waited for Deus's response.

Deus Wycliffe took a deep breath, his demeanor calm despite the storm raging within him.

"I don't know her," he began, his voice steady.

"She just appeared out of the blue, like a stranger in the night. I've never seen her before, and I've certainly never had the pleasure of meeting her."

As he spoke, Deus made a conscious effort to maintain his composure, his words measured and controlled, masking the turmoil churning beneath the surface.

Despite the intensity of his father's scrutiny, he refused to let his emotions betray him.

David Wycliffe continued to scrutinize his son, a mix of disbelief and suspicion clouded his features.

He leaned forward, his expression hardening with each passing moment.

"Are you absolutely certain, Deus?" he pressed, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

"Because it seems highly improbable that a stranger would suddenly appear at our family's event without any prior connection.

Deus met his father's gaze with unwavering resolve, his jaw set in determination.

"I understand your concerns, Father," he replied, his voice steady despite the weight of the situation.

"But I can assure you, I have no knowledge of this woman. She is a complete stranger to me."

Madam Elizabeth Wycliffe observed the exchange with a furrowed brow, her expression troubled.

She could feel the tension in the air and the strain it was placing on her family. Deep down, she hoped that Deus was telling the truth, but doubts lingered in the back of her mind.

Sensing the weight of his father's skepticism, Deus mentally braced himself for the next round of interrogation.

He knew that convincing his father would require more than just words; he needed to exude an air of sincerity and steadfastness.

"I understand that this is difficult to believe, Father," Deus continued, his tone earnest.

"But I assure you, I have no reason to deceive you. This woman's sudden appearance has caught me just as off guard as it has you."

David Wycliffe's gaze softened slightly, though traces of doubt still lingered in his eyes.

"Very well, Deus," he conceded, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"But I expect you to keep me informed if there are any further developments regarding this matter."

Deus nodded solemnly, relieved that his father seemed to be willing to accept his explanation, at least for the time being.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, knowing that the mystery surrounding Isabella was far from resolved.

---

Deus Wycliffe sped away from the patriarch's mansion, the tension from the confrontation still lingering in the air, he couldn't shake the weight of his father's disappointment.

Despite the permission granted by his parents to return to his own mansion, his mind was consumed with thoughts of how to rectify the situation.

The streets blurred past as he navigated through the city, the hum of the engine providing a steady rhythm to his racing thoughts.

Deus knew he had to act swiftly to salvage the respectability of his family name. But how? That was the question that plagued him as he drove, the answer still eluding him.

As he pulled up to the gates of his own mansion, Deus resolved to confront the issue head-on. Whatever it took, he would find a way to repair the damage he had caused and restore his family's honor.

With a determined set to his jaw, he stepped out of the car.

In the dimly lit confines of his room, Deus Wycliffe sat in solemn contemplation, the weight of his family's expectations bearing down upon him like a leaden cloak.

His father's stern admonition echoed in his mind, each word carrying the weight of generations of Wycliffe honor.

Deus felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he reflected on his father's words. The weight of their family's legacy bore down on him, a constant reminder of the expectations he was meant to fulfill.

He had always strived to live up to his father's standards, but now, faced with accusations that threatened to unravel everything he had worked for, Deus felt a sense of desperation creeping in.

He knew that he couldn't afford to let this slide. The honor of the Wycliffe name was at stake, and Deus was determined to defend it at all costs.

But as he pondered his next move, doubts began to gnaw at the edges of his resolve. What if he couldn't prove his innocence? What if the accusations were true?

As he stared out of the window, the city lights twinkling in the distance, Deus felt a surge of conflicting emotions welling up inside him.

He grappled with a sense of betrayal towards the mysterious woman who had accused him, yet he also harbored doubts about his own actions and the consequences they may have wrought.

Deus Wycliffe dialed a number, his fingers tapping on the screen as he waited for the call to connect.

"Logan," Deus's voice filled the room, commanding attention as he leaned against his desk, his expression grave.

"I need you to investigate what happened at my wedding. Spare no expense, leave no stone unturned, and get me answers."

Logan, ever loyal, nodded.

"Consider it done, boss," he assured. "I'll dig deep and keep you informed every step of the way."

As Deus paced, the grandeur of his office seemed to magnify the weight of the situation. Each step echoed on the marble floors, a reminder of the urgency of the task at hand.

But with Logan by his side, Deus felt a sense of assurance amidst the chaos.

Deus clenched his jaw, his mind buzzing with questions and frustrations. Who could have orchestrated such a disruption, and why? The implications were far-reaching, threatening not only his personal reputation but also the stability of his family's legacy.

Deus sank into his chair, his thoughts consumed by the uncertainty of the situation.

As Deus reflected on the dissolution of his engagement to Esmeralda Ravenscroft, he couldn't shake off a sense of relief that washed over him.

Their relationship had lacked the genuine affection and connection he had yearned for, leaving him with a lingering sense of emptiness. Despite this, he remained open to the possibility of proceeding with the wedding, recognizing the practical benefits it offered in terms of stability and social status.

However, beneath his outward acceptance lay a quiet resignation. Deus understood that a marriage of convenience might not bring him the happiness he sought.

Yet, he couldn't help but entertain the idea of seeking solace in the company of a mistress if his union with Esmeralda proved unfulfilling. The thought lingered in the recesses of his mind, a tantalizing escape from the constraints of his impending marriage.

---

After concluding the Empowerment Workshop for 1% of Persons with Disabilities (PWDs) at the Ministry of Human Resources, Isabella savored the crisp breeze that brushed against her cheeks as she strolled past the imposing buildings of neighboring ministries.

Each step carried with it a sense of fulfillment, knowing that she had contributed to a cause greater than herself. The workshop had been a revelation. As she processed the information she had absorbed, Isabella marveled at the government's commitment to inclusivity.

Their policy to integrate at least 1% of PWDs into the civil service workforce was a beacon of hope for those often marginalized by society. With 147,000 PWDs set to join the ranks of the 1.47 million civil servants, it was a significant step towards creating a more equitable workplace.

During the workshop, Isabella had the privilege of listening to the experiences of four PWD panelists, each with their own inspiring story to share. Among them was a panelist who, despite grappling with visual impairment, had defied the odds to obtain a Master's degree in psychology.

Their journey culminated in a prestigious position as a community development officer at the Department of Social Welfare. Their resilience and determination left an indelible mark on Isabella's heart, serving as a testament to the boundless potential within each individual, regardless of their physical limitations.

As Isabella continued her leisurely walk towards her parked car, her mind buzzed with newfound knowledge. She couldn't shake off the fascination sparked by learning about assistive technologies like JAWS, which empowered visually impaired individuals to navigate the digital landscape with ease.

The software's ability to convert scanned reading materials into audible content was a game-changer, debunking the myth that PWDs were less capable in the workplace. It was a revelation that challenged Isabella's own perceptions and ignited a sense of urgency to advocate for inclusivity and accessibility in all facets of society.

Lost in her thoughts, the enlightening discussion session she had just participated in had left an indelible impression on her, serving as a poignant reminder of the power of education and empathy in driving positive change. Isabella couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the opportunity to be part of a movement that was shaping a more inclusive and compassionate world.

"Beep! Beep!" The sharp honk of a passing black sedan startled Isabella, even though she was safely on the sidewalk. Annoyed, she muttered under her breath,

"Hey, you idiot!"

Unexpectedly, the car halted, and a burly man stepped out, asking, "Miss Isabella Sinclair?"

Isabella's heart pounded. How did this stranger know her name? Anxiety, fear, and confusion swirled within her as she surveyed the nearly deserted street. Her unease was magnified by the silence.

"No, I'm not Isabella."

Isabella rushed towards her car parked outside the government complex, her heart racing. This was an inconvenience of attending workshops—the constant difficulty of finding parking. If only the workshop had been at the ministry where her reserved parking slot was.

Despite her haste, the man tried to follow her. But Isabella was quick to flag a guard at the complex entrance. The presence of authority made the burly man retreat to his car.

Only when he was out of sight did Isabella brave enough to drive home. Throughout the drive, a feeling of being observed clung to her like a shadow. It might have been her imagination, but Isabella couldn't shake the sensation.