Part 97

Antony arrived at a luxurious five-star hotel located not too far from his family's hotel. As soon as he parked his car, he headed straight to the room Letizia had mentioned when he contacted his cousin earlier.

Inside the lavish room rented by his ex-wife sat Antony's mother, Brianna Quirino, alongside her husband, Mr. Arthur. Meanwhile, Letizia stood with her hip leaning against the bar chair, her arms crossed over her chest.

Don't ask where her children and husband were. Antony guessed that his sister-in-law was waiting for them somewhere.

The three family members displayed different expressions, surely with different thoughts filled with questions that might mirror what was in Antony's own mind.

On the other side of the room, right above the sofa facing away from the window, two women sat side by side. One was Anastasia, a woman he had pretended to date for work purposes. The other was his ex-wife, the woman he once loved deeply, who had given him a beautiful and devoted daughter. The woman who ultimately left him and cheated with another man for a clichéd reason: feeling neglected.

"What are you doing?" Antony asked in a language he knew she would understand, but Anastasia wouldn't. "What brings you out after so long? What do you want now? Do you want custody of my child? Do you want to apologize to me? What's your goal in ruining my happy day?" he asked with an accusing gaze.

The beautiful woman still seated in front of him lifted her head and looked at Antony with tear-filled eyes.

"Antony, I'm truly sorry," the woman said softly.

"Sorry for what? For betraying me? That happened over a decade ago. Why are you only coming to me now to apologize?" Antony asked again, his gaze sharp and accusatory. "Why did you have to show up at such an important time? Who brought you back? What do you really want?" he asked, still in the language of his father.

Everyone there clearly understood what Antony was saying, but Anastasia remained silent, her back stiff. Confusion and fear were evident on the girl's face.

"How do you know her?" Antony suddenly asked, his gaze fixed on Anastasia.

"Anastasia?" the woman replied, surprised. There was no need for Antony to nod his head for an answer. "We were involved in a photo shoot project in France," she said quietly. "One time, I asked her where she was from and which agency she worked for. She said she worked at your mother's agency," the woman added, her gaze shifting to Mrs. Brianna.

"Don't call me 'mother,'" Mrs. Brianna hissed at her former daughter-in-law. "Since you betrayed my son, we have no relationship whatsoever," she said sharply.

The woman was taken aback, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Continue," Antony commanded coldly. The woman looked back at Antony, fear evident in her eyes.

"I asked her if she knew you well. She said she knew you very well. Besides, she is a brand ambassador for your company and your family's business."

"Then I asked her if I could get any information from her about you." Antony raised an eyebrow and looked at Anastasia with a sharp gaze. "She asked why. I told her everything—that I'm your ex-wife and we have a child from our marriage. I just wanted her to provide information about our child," the woman said, tears beginning to flow and streaming down as she sobbed.

"And she gave you the information you needed?" Antony asked, intrigued. The woman nodded her head. Antony then scoffed in disgust. "What kind of game is this?" he asked, his tone condescending. "If you really wanted to know about Flavia, why didn't you contact my mother? Didn't my mother give you a way to communicate with each other? Why use a stranger as an intermediary?" Antony questioned again, still accusing her.

"I—I was ashamed," the woman said, her face downcast. Her hands intertwined nervously. "I was too embarrassed to ask your mother after all the mistakes I've made. I was afraid your mother would prevent me from seeing our child."

"Our child?" Antony repeated, his tone filled with disgust. "Since the moment you cheated on me, she has completely become my child!" Antony said harshly. His outburst made Anastasia flinch and look at him in fear.

"You're just talking nonsense, Daniella." The voice came from Letizia, a woman who used to be a friend of Antony's ex-wife. "You've known all along that my aunt never restricted your relationship. But you chose to distance yourself from your own child because you didn't want her."

"You're so obsessed with your own world that you've forgotten your duty as a mother. Don't use Flavia and Aunt Brianna as excuses for your selfishness."

"Letizia," the woman whispered, calling out Antony's cousin's name.

"If you truly had good intentions of wanting to meet and reconnect with your daughter, you wouldn't have waited thirteen years to come back. You know where we've been living all this time. America, Italy—you know our address.

"But now you come on a day that should be the happiest for my brother? What kind of woman are you?

"Did you come here hoping you could cancel my brother's wedding and then ask him to take you back?" Letizia asked with a scornful gaze. "Even if Antony wanted to go back to you, I would be the first to stop a vile woman like you from getting back with him," she said, her words sounding painful to hear. "I know your husband's financial situation isn't good right now, right?

"That's why you've returned. That's also why you're jumping back into the modeling world because your husband can no longer meet all your needs.

"Why? Surprised that I know?

"I don't need to have someone follow you. I know because everyone in our hometown has been talking about you since before I came here. And honestly, I'm shocked by your arrival.

"How shameless can you be? Using an apology as an excuse to get close to my family? To my niece?

"What will you do after getting Antony's forgiveness?

"Will you approach your child and fill her head with your twisted thoughts that you want to be together as a family? Then afterward, will you claim custody of her and demand a large alimony from my family? How clichéd and predictable your thoughts are."

"But sorry, I'll say it again: I will be the first to block your way," Letizia stated firmly. The gazes of the two women sitting in the chairs now turned to Letizia. One looked shocked and sad, while the other had a confused expression.

"I—I won't do that," Daniella said, her voice trembling.

"And you think I'm going to believe that?" Letizia challenged her again.

"Go back to your husband or any man you've slept with. I don't care," Antony said dismissively. "And don't ever show your face in front of my child. In front of my wife. In front of my family. Unless you have a sincere intention to truly apologize and repair your relationship with her."

"Antony, I really—"

"Don't ever say my name again with that filthy mouth of yours!" Antony shouted at the woman. His face now clearly reflected anger, even though he was generally considered the calm one in his family.

His chest heaved noticeably. His face and eyes turned red.

"If my relationship with Claire is ruined because of your arrival, I swear you will never know what comfort feels like for the rest of your life," Antony said, his tone threatening.

Then his gaze shifted to Anastasia. "And you," he said in the language Anastasia understood. Realizing Antony was speaking to her, Anastasia lifted her head.

The hopeful and pleased smile on her face, which had just appeared a moment ago, now transformed into an expression of pure fear.

"After this, you will lose your name in the modeling world," Antony said in a low hiss. His threatening tone made Anastasia's skin crawl. "Don't expect any agency to accept you," he continued, causing Anastasia's face to go pale. "I've been patient long enough because Claire forgave all the misunderstandings you caused. But this time," Antony raised the corners of his mouth and shook his head. "Every night, you will pray to return to a time when your wicked thoughts never existed.

"Every night, you will beg anyone to turn back time. Every night, you will wish you had never met me," Antony said before turning on his heel and leaving the lavish room, his swift footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.