Chapter 3 - A Warm Shelter in the Storm
Thirty minutes later, the winter blizzard raged with full fury across the state, dumping ten inches of snow and knocking down power lines along the county highways.
Inside a bright, cozy diner five miles down the road, the air was warm and smelled of fresh cinnamon and roasted coffee. Rupert sat in a plush red booth across from Owen and Lucy, who were happily eating hot bacon cheeseburgers and dipping french fries into milkshakes. Their cheeks had regained their rosy color, their laughter filling the small booth as they forgot about the cruel rejection at their grandmother's house.
On the table next to Rupert's coffee mug, his smartphone began vibrating furiously against the wooden surface.
The screen lit up with four consecutive missed calls from his mother, followed immediately by a frantic text message that lit up the display:
"Rupert! The central floor heating just completely shut off! The entire mansion is freezing and Brooke's twins are crying! Call your guy right now to fix it!"
Rupert picked up the glowing phone, reading the message out loud in a low, amused rumble before letting out a soft, dry laugh.
"Is Grandma texting you, Dad?" Owen asked, wiping ketchup from his mouth.
"She sure is, pal," Rupert replied smoothly, setting the phone back on the table without typing a single letter. "She says it's getting a little cold at the party."
May you like
What Brooke and his mother had completely forgotten—or never bothered to learn during their years of arrogant condescension—was that Rupert wasn't just some local handyman. He was the founder and primary patent holder of Vance Thermal Dynamics, the premier commercial heating firm in the region. He had personally engineered, built, and installed the custom million-dollar radiant floor grid beneath that very mansion.
👉 Read Part 4 to see how quickly panic sets in inside the icy mansion.
