You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 517

At eight sharp, Jackson ditched an unregistered car in a roadside parking spot and hopped into his usual black van, heading straight for the Hernandez family’s place.

Allen was the picture of retired success—happy with country life, spending his days sipping tea and tending to his flowers, always surrounded by that peaceful, post-career vibe. But his son was another story. The kid just couldn’t seem to get it together, and because of that, Allen’s golden years weren’t as smooth as he’d hoped.

The Hernandez estate was nowhere near Cloud Peak. Jackson had to take the highway for thirty kilometers, then drive another twenty miles down winding roads before he finally arrived. The place was like a cozy little manor, with a pond, veggie patches, fruit trees, and whole rows of grapevines. At night, bug lights glowed in the yard, casting everything in a soft green haze.

“Sir, there’s someone at the gate,” the housekeeper called out.

Allen was inside, teasing his cat with a toy, not even glancing up. “Who shows up this late? Don’t they know better?”

“It’s a Miss Martins.”

The cat grabbed the toy and let it go, sending it skittering across the floor with a clatter. Allen’s heart skipped. He looked at the housekeeper, trying to stay calm. “How old is she?”

“She looks like she’s in her twenties. Pretty young.”

“Alright. Put the cat away, please.”

Allen washed his hands and walked out to the yard. Outside the gate, the black van was still running. Jackson, wearing thick black glasses, was peering over the wall at the grapevines.

When he spotted Allen, Jackson called out politely, “Allen, Miss Martins is waiting in the van.”

Allen gave a polite nod. “All the grapes here are from our own vines. If you want, I can have the housekeeper pick some for you.”

Jackson shook his head. “No thanks, I was just curious,” he said, pointing up at the grape arbor. “Why’s there a camera stuck up there? Someone stealing your grapes?”

Allen frowned. “A camera? I don’t remember installing one out here.”

She opened the box, and Allen’s jaw dropped. That was definitely the vase from his study cabinet.

“Where did you get this, Miss Martins?”

“I bought it at an auction. When the auctioneer brought it out, I thought it looked familiar. You post those calligraphy videos online, don’t you? I swear I saw it in the background.”

Allen’s face went pale as the truth dawned on him. The camera, the missing vase—it all added up. Someone in his own house had stolen from him. And his son had been hanging with a bad crowd lately, always needing cash.

Patricia handed him the box. “Giving back what’s yours, Allen.”

“Miss Martins—”

But Patricia just leaned back, not giving him a chance to argue. Instead, she smiled and said, “I’ve always treated you like family, Allen. Don’t you think it’s time you showed a little trust in return?”