Chapter 223: The Comfort of Home

Chapter 223: Chapter 223: The Comfort of Home

The soft, familiar chime of the private express elevator echoed through the sunlit penthouse lounge at precisely eleven o’clock.

Aliya, who was sprawled comfortably across the sectional sofa reviewing raw footage on her tablet, perked up instantly. Beside her on the glass coffee table lay her camera rig and a half-empty glass of iced tea. In the kitchen, Catharine was casually drying a set of crystal glasses, while Jake stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, checking a brief market update on his phone.

The polished silver doors slid open to reveal Martha and Ryan Rivers. Martha wore a simple maroon cardigan over a floral blouse, carrying a familiar, foil-wrapped baking dish, while Ryan stepped out behind her, holding a folded newspaper and adjusting his casual jacket.

"Look who decided to grace us with their presence!" Aliya called out, setting her tablet down and hopping off the couch.

"Oh, hush, Aliya," Martha scolded with a warm smile, setting the baking dish on the island counter as Catharine hurried over to greet them. "Your father had a meeting with his union reps near the central district, and since we were right down the block, I told him we had to drop by. We brought fresh apple turnovers."

"You don’t need an excuse to visit, Mom," Jake said, setting his phone aside as he stepped forward, offering a rare, gentle smile as he embraced his mother and shook Ryan’s hand.

"It’s so wonderful to see you both again," Catharine added warmly, taking the wrapped dish from Martha.

Martha’s eyes lit up as she looked at Catharine, reaching out to grasp her hands gently. Since their first brief introduction a few weeks ago, Martha had been eager to catch up properly. "It’s so good to see you again, Catharine. You look radiant. How have you been holding up?"

"I’m doing really well, Martha," Catharine replied, her voice steady and full of genuine peace. "Honestly, having Jake and Aliya around makes everything feel light."

Martha gave her hands a firm, maternal squeeze. "Good. You deserve that peace, Catharine. Don’t ever let anyone in this city convince you otherwise."

Ryan walked over to the windows, looking out at the glittering Veyra skyline before glancing at Jake. "I swear, every time I step into this place, I feel like I need a map just to find the kitchen."

"Don’t start, Ryan," Martha warned playfully, though her eyes softened as she took in the warmth of the penthouse.

"Speaking of getting out and about," Aliya chimed in, stepping between them with an infectious grin, "Mom, Catharine and I were just talking about hitting the shops. Cath needs a proper distraction, and let’s be honest, you haven’t been shopping in the Galleria since Jake moved in here."

Martha chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, Aliya, you know I’m not meant for those overly fancy boutiques. People in those stores look at you like you’re lost if you aren’t wearing five thousand marks on your back."

"That’s exactly why you’re coming," Jake said calmly, reaching into his blazer pocket. He pulled out the familiar, unmapped matte-black Sterling Sovereign Card and set it on the counter in front of his mother. "Take the card. Whatever you, Catharine, and Aliya want, get it."

Martha stared at the sleek piece of metal, her eyebrows drawing together. "Jake, honey, no. I don’t need luxury clothes. I’m perfectly fine with what I have."

Before Jake could answer, Aliya snatched the black card off the counter with a triumphant grin. "Too late, Mom! Jake’s practically a billionaire now—if we don’t spend his money, who will? I’m already planning on clearing out half the stores."

"Aliya, be reasonable—" Martha started, but Jake simply gave a slight nod of approval to his sister.

"Go ahead," Jake said, a subtle smirk touching his lips. "Take whatever you want."

Catharine smiled, stepping beside Martha and gently placing a hand on her arm. "Come with us, Martha. It’ll be fun, I promise. And if Aliya starts getting too wild, I’ll keep her in check."

Martha looked between Jake’s resolute expression and Catharine’s warm, inviting smile, finally letting out a defeated, affectionate sigh. "Alright, fine. But I am not letting Aliya buy me one of those ridiculous leather jackets."

"Hey! I heard that!" Aliya protested as she pushed the sleek card deep into her pocket. "Come on, ladies! Phase one of the Rivers family retail takeover begins now!"

Ryan laughed, settling down into one of the plush armchair lounges in the living room. "You three go on ahead. Jake and I will stay right here, enjoy a coffee, and keep out of trouble."

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An hour later, the polished glass and white-gold facade of the Central Galleria hummed with the quiet, refined activity of Veyra’s high society.

As the sleek executive SUV pulled up to the VIP valet line, the cool, perfumed air of the atrium washed over them. Aliya stepped out first, practically vibrating with energy, her camera rig already steady in her hand.

"Alright, vlog," Aliya murmured into her microphone as they walked through the grand entrance. "We are officially back at the Galleria, but today we have a special guest star: the matriarch herself, Mom."

Martha walked beside Catharine, looking up at the soaring, multi-tiered arcades of Chanel, Cartier, and Dior with a mixture of awe and light skepticism. "Good heavens, Aliya. The light fixtures in this place look like they cost more than our first house."

"That’s the point, Martha," Catharine said with a soft laugh, holding the door as they entered the sprawling, double-story Hermès boutique. "Just relax and enjoy it."

The moment they stepped onto the plush carpet, a senior sales associate approached them, his eyes immediately tracking the three women. "Good afternoon, ladies. Welcome to Hermès. How may I assist you today?"

"We’re looking to completely refresh my mother’s handbag and scarf collection," Aliya said smoothly, pulling the matte-black Sovereign card halfway out of her pocket just enough for the associate to glimpse the unmapped silver emblem.

The associate’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his posture instantly shifting into a deep, reverent bow. "It would be an absolute honor, mademoiselle. Please, step right this way to our private salon."

Martha looked wide-eyed at Catharine as they were ushered into a secluded, silk-lined room featuring plush leather armchairs and trays of sparkling water and delicate macarons.

Within minutes, the associate returned accompanied by two assistants carrying velvet-lined trays. Displayed before them were several iconically structured leather pieces, including a classic Birkin 30 in Togo leather with gold hardware—priced at 28,000 marks—and a stunning Kelly 28 in a rich, warm Étoupe shade, priced at 24,000 marks.

"Oh, my word," Martha breathed, carefully touching the supple leather of the Étoupe Kelly bag. "The craftsmanship on this... it’s incredible."

"It suits you perfectly, Martha," Catharine said gently, picking up a silk cashmere shawl patterned in rich burgundy and gold tones—priced at 1,800 marks—and placing it over Martha’s shoulders. "Look at how the colors bring out your eyes."

"Try it on, Mom!" Aliya urged, taking a quick photo with her phone. "You look like a high-society matriarch!"

"It’s... it’s lovely," Martha admitted, a genuine, blush-tinted smile touching her face as she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. "But isn’t it far too expensive?"

While Martha was admiring the scarf, two wealthy middle-aged socialites walked past the entrance of the private suite, draped in heavy fur stoles and gold jewelry. They paused, glancing inside at Martha’s modest cardigan and casual pants.

"I wonder who let the tourists into the private collection," one of the women muttered in a staged whisper to her friend, letting out a faint, condescending smirk. "You’d think Hermès would keep some standard of decorum in the VIP lounges."

Catharine’s smile vanished, her eyes narrowing as she turned toward the doorway. But before she could speak, Aliya stood up casually, holding the heavy black metal card between two fingers.

She turned to the sales associate, her voice completely calm, effortless, and dripping with absolute financial authority. "Excuse me. We’ll take the Étoupe Kelly 28 for 24,000 marks, the Birkin 30 for 28,000 marks, four of these cashmere silk shawls at 1,800 marks each, and three leather belts at 1,200 marks apiece. Oh, and throw in that crocodile leather tote on the display stand for 45,000 marks. Process it all on this card right now."

The associate nearly dropped his ledger, processing the staggering 107,800-mark single receipt in a flash. "Y-Yes, right away, ma’am! Right away!"

The two snobbish women in the hallway completely froze. The color drained from their faces as they stared at the unmapped black Sovereign card—a card reserved exclusively for the top fraction of a percent of global wealth—and listened to a twenty-something casually drop over a hundred thousand marks in thirty seconds without batting an eye. Realizing who they had just attempted to look down on, the two women quickly turned and hurried away down the concourse without saying another word.

Aliya turned back to Martha with a bright, satisfied smirk. "And that, Mom, is how you deal with gatekeepers."

Martha shook her head, though a small, amused smile tugged at her lips. "You are terrible, Aliya. Absolutely terrible. Jake is going to have a heart attack."

"Are you kidding? Jake won’t even notice this left his balance," Aliya laughed, completely unbothered.

From Hermès, the trio spent the next two hours strolling through the Galleria’s finest boutiques, with Aliya actively looking for ways to run up the tab.

At Saint Laurent, Catharine helped Martha pick out a beautifully tailored wool trench coat for 4,500 marks. Aliya immediately insisted on getting two more in different colors for another 9,000 marks, along with three pairs of designer leather loafers at 1,200 marks each, bringing the Saint Laurent total to 17,100 marks.

Next, they stopped at Cartier. Martha watched in silent amazement as Catharine and Aliya selected a delicate gold Trinity bracelet for her wrist—priced at 8,200 marks. Aliya then spotted a matching diamond-paved bangle priced at 32,000 marks and insisted on adding it to the tray, alongside a pair of gold hoop earrings for Catharine at 6,500 marks. The Cartier total came out to 46,700 marks without Aliya hesitating for a single second at the checkout counter.

By two o’clock, after a light, relaxing lunch at a private tea salon overlooking the atrium—where Aliya casually picked up the 650-mark bill—they made their final stop at an elite high-jewelry boutique.

As they walked inside, Martha looked down at the sleek new leather handbag on her arm, the subtle sparkle of the gold bracelet on her wrist, and the happy, unburdened laughter of Catharine and Aliya beside her.

For the first time in years, the quiet, persistent worry about the future that had defined her life was completely gone. Sitting in the warmth of her family’s success, getting to know Catharine better, and surrounded by genuine care and peace, Martha let out a slow, content breath.

"You know, Catharine," Martha said softly as they looked at a display of sapphire necklaces, her voice full of deep warmth. "Getting to see you again today... and seeing Jake so steady, and seeing you two so happy... it’s the best thing a mother could ever ask for."

Catharine looked over at Martha, her expression softening into a radiant, sincere smile as she lightly linked her arm with Martha’s.

"We’re going to keep it that way, Martha," Catharine replied softly. "Always."

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