Chapter 23: Helena Rivers
Jake’s sleek black car purred into the wide circular driveway of the Stones’ estate, the headlights sweeping over the grand white-pillared mansion that had been home for generations.
The air smelled faintly of pine and the faint trickle of the garden’s fountain echoed in the night.
Raymond stepped out first, straightening his tie nervously, while Jake locked the car with his usual calm confidence. Both men exchanged a glance — whatever awaited them inside wasn’t going to be an ordinary dinner. It had been pretty obvious from her tone.
Inside, the butler ushered them through the grand foyer, chandeliers glinting above polished marble floors. The faint hum of conversation drifted from the dining room, low but unmistakable. When they stepped in, both men froze for half a second.
At the long mahogany dining table, Charles Stones sat at the head — upright, imposing even in his sixties. His graying black hair was combed neatly back, his tan skin etched with age lines, and his gray eyes which mirrored Jake and Raymond’s was sharp with quiet authority.
To his right sat Evelyn Stones, elegant in a silk gown of deep emerald, silver curls gleaming under the warm light. And beside her, where a guest rarely ever sat, was a young woman both boys had never seen before — though Jake and Raymond immediately understood why she was there.
Her platinum blonde bob gleamed like a blade under the chandelier, her icy blue eyes framed with precision makeup. She wore a blood-red dress, sleek and form-fitting, with a bold ruby pendant resting against her collarbone. She looked every inch the kind of woman Evelyn would choose to sit at her table.
"Jake. Raymond," Charles said, his deep voice carrying across the room like a gavel. "You’re late."
Jake gave a polite nod, unfazed. "Traffic."
Raymond bowed his head slightly. "Apologies, Father."
Evelyn rose smoothly, her smile practiced, though her eyes flickered with love and care she never seemed to hide.
"Jake, Raymond," Evelyn said with a smile. "Don’t mind your father. You’re just in time." She gestured gracefully toward the woman beside her. "This is Helena Rivers."
Jake’s eyes flicked briefly toward the stranger, then back to his mother. Helena, however, didn’t miss a beat. She stepped forward with poise, extending her hand toward Jake first.
"It’s an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Stones," she said, her voice soft.
Jake shook her hand briefly, his expression polite but unreadable. "Miss Rivers."
Raymond followed with his usual charm, taking her hand lightly. "Pleasure to meet you."
Helena’s cheeks flushed faintly, though her eyes quickly returned to Jake as if the younger brother were little more than a polite distraction.
"Sit, both of you," Evelyn urged, her tone carrying that maternal authority they knew better than to challenge.
As the brothers took their seats — Jake directly opposite Helena, Raymond a little further down — the tension settled thick in the air.
Helena’s gaze lingered on Jake, cool but assessing, while Charles watched everything in silence, the way a hawk watches the field before striking.
The butlers began serving — roasted duck with spiced vegetables, fine wine poured into crystal glasses. The faint clinking of silverware was the only sound until Evelyn’s voice cut through.
"Jake," she began lightly, almost casually, "you’ve been working far too hard again. Look at you, you’ve lost a lot of weight. All you ever think about is business, day and night. Don’t you think it’s time you started considering... balance?"
Jake’s fork paused mid-air, his expression unreadable. "Balance?"
"Yes," Evelyn said smoothly, her eyes flicking toward Helena with deliberate grace. "A man like you should not live alone. You need someone at your side. Someone who understands refinement, who knows the weight of family legacy." Her hand gestured elegantly toward Helena. "Someone like Helena."
Raymond’s brows rose slightly, though he quickly lowered his gaze to his plate. Jake leaned back in his chair, his gray eyes narrowing just slightly as he studied the woman before him.
Helena smiled faintly, tilting her head. "Your mother is very kind. She speaks of you often, Mr. Stones."
"Does she?" Jake’s tone was smooth but cool, his lips twitching in something that wasn’t quite a smile. "And what exactly has she told you?"
"That you’re brilliant," Helena said easily, sipping her wine. "That you’re strong, decisive. That you need a woman who can match your pace. I happen to think she’s right."
Evelyn’s satisfaction was evident in her eyes, though she didn’t gloat. She merely dabbed at her lips with a napkin and said, "You see, Jake? Not every woman will challenge you the way Helena can."
Across the table, Charles finally spoke, his deep voice rumbling low. "It isn’t about challenge, Evelyn. It’s about loyalty. Discipline." His eyes pinned Jake like steel. "A wife isn’t a trophy. She should steady a man. Ground him and help him achieve his goals. Not distract him."
Helena’s smile wavered, but she recovered quickly. "I assure you, Mr. Stones, I would never be a distraction. I admire men with vision. Men who build empires."
Charles gave a short nod, unimpressed or perhaps only neutral. He returned to cutting his meat, leaving the tension to settle where it may.
Jake swirled the wine in his glass, the corners of his mouth curving faintly. "That’s an admirable sentiment, Miss Rivers. But admiration isn’t the same as endurance. Do you really think you could live with the... demands that come with me?"
Helena’s icy eyes glittered. "I don’t think. I know."
Raymond glanced between them, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. But he kept quiet — better to let the storm play out.
Dinner pressed on with subtle jabs hidden under polite words. Evelyn asked Helena about her family’s ventures, her interest in charities.
Helena answered smoothly, performing as though she’d rehearsed every line. Jake responded where required, cool and measured, revealing nothing. Charles remained mostly silent, but every so often, he’d make a sharp comment about business, about responsibility, about the Stones legacy — comments that weighed heavy with warning.
By the time dessert was served the reason for the dinner were clear. Evelyn wanted this marriage. Helena wanted Jake. And Jake? He wanted neither, though his face betrayed nothing.
At last, Evelyn set down her spoon, her smile tightening. "Well. That was lovely, wasn’t it, Helena? Why don’t we take a short stroll in the garden before you head home? The night air will do us good."
Helena agreed instantly, her eyes darting briefly to Jake as though waiting for some response, but Jake only nodded politely.
The two women rose, Evelyn giving Charles a meaningful glance. Charles returned it with the faintest dip of his head.
The butlers cleared the table, and silence hung in the room for a long moment. Then Charles stood, straightening his shirt, his eyes sharp as ever.
"Come," he said, his voice leaving no room for refusal. "Both of you. To the study. Your mother isn’t the only that needed to speak to you."
Jake and Raymond exchanged a quick look. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be a casual talk.
And as they followed their father down the hall, they knew the real conversation was only just about to begin.