The bank liquidated the Xaviers' other villas, leaving most of the family homeless or living in rented houses. Rowena Xavier's remaining villa was her personal property.
Trent's plan—to inflate the prices of worthless artifacts and sell them—had worked. Most auction attendees, intimidated by Trent's power, had purchased items, and though Trent was dead, the money had fallen into Rowena's hands. Following Warren and Trent's deaths, she became a pillar of hope for the family, who looked to her to restore their wealth.
In a second-floor villa room, a roughly 50-year-old man lay on a bed beside a woman in a white dress. This woman was Rowena Xavier, a woman in her thirties who, thanks to a high-maintenance lifestyle, looked no older than nineteen. Slim, with delicate features and long hair flowing down her shoulders, her slightly sheer dress accentuated her seductive charm.
"Mr. Bertrand," she said, looking at the man, who was in his underwear, "when are you going to keep your promise?"
Bertrand, a well-connected big shot, was involved in Rowena's efforts to regain some of the family's lost properties after their bankruptcy.
Charles, looking at Rowena, smiled. "Don't worry. I always keep my word. As you know, Alex Yates used legal means to bankrupt you. I need to deal with every aspect of that."
Rowena snuggled into his arms. "I've given you at least fifty million, Mr. Bertrand," she said coquettishly.
"It's been a long time. Give me a timeframe."
"Soon. Within a few days."
Charles smiled outwardly but was secretly disdainful. Stupid woman, he thought. Your family has fallen. Trent is dead. The Xaviers will never be one of the Great Four again. I've spent your money.
"Don't worry, Mr. Bertrand," Rowena said. "You'll get your share once I stabilize my family's finances. I'll be all yours, too."
Bang! The bedroom door burst open.
"Who's there?!" Charles jumped, scrambling to his knees. He trembled at the sight of the ghost-masked intruder, scrambling out of bed and frantically dressing as he cried, "I—I have nothing to do with them! I don't know anything! I'm leaving!" Everyone in Cansington knew the ghost mask belonged to Warren and Trent's killer.
Rowena trembled as the man, James, entered. Charles, now fully dressed, sprinted past James, only to be yanked back and thrown onto the bed. Cowering in fear, he remained silent.
Once she had composed herself, Rowena asked, "Who are you? Why do you hold a grudge against us?"
James removed his mask.
"You?" Rowena said, bewildered. "James Caden? The one who married into the Callahans?"
"Yes," he confirmed.
"Wait… J-James Caden?" Rowena gasped. "You… you're Nicholas Caden's son?!"
James nodded, pulled up a chair, and calmly lit a cigarette. A heavy silence descended on the room, broken only by the hiss of the cigarette. Charles remained curled in a ball on the bed.