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CHAPTER 212
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2024-10-01 18:00:02One morning, as I sat by the window in the nursery, sipping on tea, I felt a soft kick. A flutter at first, then a stronger nudge—our baby was moving. A rush of warmth flooded me, and I called out for Leon, my heart bursting with excitement.
"Leon!" I yelled, unable to contain myself. "Come here, quick!"
Leon appeared in the doorway, a mix of alarm and curiosity on his face. "What is it?" he asked, rushing over to me.
I grabbed his hand and placed it on my belly. "Did you feel that? He’s kicking."
He stood still, his hand resting on my bump, waiting. And then, it happened—a little nudge from within.
His eyes widened, and a huge grin spread across h
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After leaving Regina behind in the waiting room, I stepped into the familiar warmth of Dr. Lou’s clinic. Aunt Lou was already inside, waiting for me with her usual calm, reassuring smile. She stood up from her chair as I walked in, and immediately, the subtle tension I had felt after seeing Regina seemed to melt away.“Margarette, you okay? You were running a little late and I was just about to call you to check if you’re all right.” Aunt Lou asked, her eyes scanning my face with concern. I nodded and sat down beside her, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine, Aunt Lou. Well, to be honest, I just…I happen to ran into Regina outside actually.”Aunt Lou raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Regina? You mean Justin’s mistress? What’s she doing here?”“She said she had a bone marrow transplant, and was having her consultation” I said quietly, still trying to process the change I had seen in her. “She looked… different. Not like her usual self who often intimidate me often.”Aunt Lou nodded, sit
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As I made my way downstairs to the dining room, the delicious aroma of Letty’s cooking filled the air, instantly lifting my spirits. I could hear the soft chatter from the kitchen, the clatter of dishes, and the occasional laugh from Lena, who had clearly been assigned the role of Letty’s helper for the night.It felt good, being surrounded by family. Despite everything on my mind—Leon being away, my run-in with Regina, and the overwhelming anticipation of motherhood—I found solace in these simple moments.I stepped into the dining room, and Aunt Lou was already setting the table, her usual efficient self. She looked up when she saw me and smiled. “There you are, sweetheart. Feeling a little better?”I nodded, returning her smile. &l
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The air was crisp as Aunt Lou and I made our way down the sidewalk toward the pharmacy to buy some of the vitamins I needed.I tried to push away the lingering sense of unease that had settled in ever since I saw Regina at my OB-GYN appointment yesterday by making some habit of going out more often, while I still could.Now that I was out of the house again with Aunt Lou to pick up some medicine, I hoped to shake off the anxiety that had clung to me all day. But, as luck would have it, life had other plans.As we stepped into the pharmacy, Aunt Lou busied herself at the counter while I browsed the aisles, looking for some vitamins and pregnancy essentials. I was trying to keep my mind focused on the present—on the baby and Leon's return—
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LATER THAT EVENING, while I sat quietly in the living room, and enjoying the sip a hot cup of herbal tea that Aunt Lou had made for me, the tension that had been brewing throughout the day finally came to a head. Aunt Lou had been hovering, her watchful eyes lingering on me every time I moved or said anything. It wasn’t like her usual caring concern—it felt heavier, more disapproving. I could sense something was wrong, but I hadn’t wanted to push. I wanted to ask her what could be bothering her but I feel like it would be best to wait for her to tell it to me instead.Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.“Margarette,” Aunt Lou started, her tone gentle but firm. She sat down across from me, folding her hands in her lap. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”I set my cup down, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”She let out a soft sigh, as though she had been holding her breath. “Meeting with Regina. Talking to Jack without waiting for Leon to come back. You’re pregnant, swee
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The next few days were filled with packing and preparations for the move. The kids were excited about the idea of living in a new place, and their enthusiasm helped ease some of my doubts. I watched them run around the house, laughing, playing, as Leon and I sorted through our things. They were so innocent, so unaware of the complexities of the world we lived in. I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.By the time we were ready to leave, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. It wasn’t about abandoning anyone—it was about creating a future for us, a future where we could heal, grow, and be free from the shadows of our past.The private jet that Leon had arranged for us was waiting, and the twins couldn’t contain their excitement as we boarded. The journey felt surreal, like something out of a dream. We were starting over, building a new life, and for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful.When we finally arrived on the island, it exceeded all our expectations.
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We visited Havenmoor two weeks later.The air was different there—salt-kissed and vibrant. The island’s green heart stretched wide with wild palms and flowering trees. A gentle wind rustled the leaves as we stepped onto the sand. Liana and Mateo were already running toward the waves, laughing as the tide splashed their feet.Leon held my hand as we walked up a narrow path toward the bluff where our future home would be built.“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, unable to hide my awe.“It’s yours,” he said. “Ours.”A local contractor met us at the site, showing us the blueprints. I could already picture it—Liana perched at the window seat with a book, Mateo in the garden chasing butterflies, the sound of waves echoing through our open windows.“This room will be for the baby,” Leon said, his voice lower now, reverent. “Facing east, so the sunlight comes in every morning.”I didn’t speak for a moment. Instead, I turned to him, tears threatening to spill. “You thought of everything.”He brush
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The smell of cinnamon and warm bread wafted through the air as I stood in the sunlit kitchen, stirring a pot of soup with one hand and resting the other protectively over my growing belly. Outside the window, the sound of laughter echoed from the garden where Leon chased after our two children—Emilia, now three, and our spirited one-year-old, Julian. Their giggles bounced off the walls like music.Peace.For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I could breathe.It had been a year since Elise’s arc ended—since we put an end to the nightmare that stole my parents and nearly took my life. The trial that followed felt like a bad dream, and with Dorian’s testimony and the evidence from my father’s study, Elise’s crimes—along with her father's legacy of corruption—were buried with their conviction.Leon and I moved on. We rebuilt our lives, one moment, one breath at a time.And now, as I stirred soup with the ease of a mother content in her routine, I was preparing to share somethin
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The world came back into focus slowly, like a dim light piercing through heavy fog. My ears rang, my limbs felt heavy, and my mind was swimming. But Leon’s voice cut through it all, rough and frantic.“Margarette. Margarette, stay with me!”Pain pulsed through my shoulder as I blinked, registering the warm, sticky sensation of blood soaking through my blouse. But I was alive. Alive.“Elise,” I rasped.Leon’s jaw was tight as he leaned over me, his eyes frantic with emotion. “She’s gone. Dorian chased after her. You're going to be okay. Just hang in there.”“I’m fine,” I murmured, trying to sit up.Leon gently pushed me back. “No. You're not fine. You were shot, Margarette.”“I’ve been through worse,” I said, forcing a smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. "We need to finish this. No more running."He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he nodded and helped me up, careful not to jar my shoulder.We moved together down the hallway. Every step hurt, but adrenaline dull
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The next time I woke, I was in an unfamiliar room.Soft, golden light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the walls. The air smelled of antiseptic and fresh linen. My body ached, a dull, pulsing pain radiating from my side, but the sharp agony from before had dulled to something more manageable.I turned my head slightly and found Leon sitting in a chair beside the bed. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped together, as if he’d been keeping vigil for hours. His shirt was wrinkled, stained with my blood. His face was unreadable, but his eyes—dark and stormy—held an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.“You’re awake.” His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the relief in it.I swallowed, my throat dry. “Where are we?”“A safe house,” Leon answered, leaning forward. “One of mine. Dorian’s securing the perimeter. You needed medical attention, but a hospital wasn’t an option. Too risky.”I nodded slowly, my mind still catching up. The last
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Gunfire tore through the air, glass raining down around us as we hit the ground. The sharp sound of bullets striking wood and metal sent my heart into a frantic rhythm. Leon grabbed me, shielding my body as we crawled behind the heavy oak desk.“Dorian?” Leon’s voice was sharp, controlled despite the chaos.“I’m fine,” Dorian called from behind a toppled chair. He moved fast, drawing his gun and firing two precise shots toward the broken windows. A pained grunt told us he had hit his mark.Vincent, the smug bastard, was still in his chair, completely unbothered by the attack.“This is cute,” he mused, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “But you should know by now—I never play fair.”Leon turned his gun on him. “Call them off.”Vincent only smiled.I gritted my teeth. “Damn it, Vincent, this isn’t a game! Who the hell is shooting at us?”The door burst open, and three armed men stormed in.Dorian moved first. He lunged at the closest attacker, his blade flashing in the dim light. The m
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Darkness swallowed me whole.For a moment, I thought I was dead. The gunshot still rang in my ears, deafening, all-consuming. But then, pain—sharp and searing—bloomed along my side, pulling me back from the abyss. My breath came in ragged gasps as my knees buckled, and I felt myself falling.Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.“Margarette!” Leon’s voice was raw with panic. His hands pressed against my wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. The warmth of my own blood seeped through my clothes, sticky against my skin. Dorian fired, his shot echoing through the cavernous estate.Elise let out a sharp cry, staggering back. But even as she bled, her cruel smile remained. “Not bad,” she whispered, clutching her shoulder where Dorian’s bullet had struck her. “But not enough.”Leon lifted me, his grip firm but desperate. “We need to move. Now.”“No,” I gritted out, fighting through the pain. “We finish this.”Dorian cursed. “Are you insane? You’re bleeding out!”I forced myself to
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Gunfire tore through the air, glass raining down around us as we hit the ground. The sharp sound of bullets striking wood and metal sent my heart into a frantic rhythm. Leon grabbed me, shielding my body as we crawled behind the heavy oak desk.“Dorian?” Leon’s voice was sharp, controlled despite the chaos.“I’m fine,” Dorian called from behind a toppled chair. He moved fast, drawing his gun and firing two precise shots toward the broken windows. A pained grunt told us he had hit his mark.Vincent, the smug bastard, was still in his chair, completely unbothered by the attack.“This is cute,” he mused, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “But you should know by now—I never play fair.”Leon turned his gun on him. “Call them off.”Vincent only smiled.I gritted my teeth. “Damn it, Vincent, this isn’t a game! Who the hell is shooting at us?”The door burst open, and three armed men stormed in.Dorian moved first. He lunged at the closest attacker, his blade flashing in the dim light. The m
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The safe house felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension. Every second we wasted gave Vincent more time to prepare. More time to strike.I wasn’t going to let that happen.Leon stood by the table, his hands braced against the surface, muscles tight with frustration. Dorian, despite the pain from his injury, sat nearby, flipping a knife between his fingers—a habit he had when deep in thought.“We need a lead,” Leon finally said, his voice low and controlled. “We can’t storm in blind.”I paced near the window, arms crossed. “We do have a lead. This locket.” I held it up, the metal catching the dim light. “Vincent had it for a reason. He wanted me to see it. Why?”Dorian exhaled sharply. “Because he’s playing with you.”I shook my head. “No. There’s more to it. He wouldn’t go through the trouble of planting something from my past just to taunt me. He wants me to remember something.”Leon’s gaze darkened. “Then let’s start at the beginning. The night of the accident.”My throa
