Chapter 12 - chapter 12

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THEME: A STORY THAT TALKS ABOUT HER HIDDEN DARKNESS 🕳️🕳️

CHAPTER 12

Cecilia POV

Revenge had never felt sweeter. I sank back into the plush airplane seat, the hum of the engines a steady, comforting vibration beneath me, and let myself savor the moment. The private investigator had done exactly as I'd asked — quiet, precise, merciless. The files, the photographs, the whispered confirmations delivered to my phone like a neat little bundle of ruin. It was almost laughable how simple it had been once I set the wheels in motion. A few calls, a few paid favors, and the truth that would topple them all was mine.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at my lips as the cabin lights dimmed and the rest of the passengers drifted into their own little worlds. I had rehearsed this night in my head so many times: Jasper's face when the accusations landed, Cathy's shame, the way the family would splinter. I'd imagined the hush in that mansion, the way whispers would curl through the rooms like smoke. Now, sitting here with my ticket to Tokyo tucked in my hand and the city lights shrinking beneath us, it was no longer fantasy — it was real, and deliciously irreversible.

I thought about Jasper — the way he'd defended that woman, how easily he'd fallen in love. Foolish boy. I would not be the one discarded. If I couldn't have him, then no one would take my place. The idea made my pulse quicken in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fierce, bright satisfaction of victory.

Outside the tiny window, clouds swallowed the last of the skyline. I traced the rim of my glass absently and felt no guilt, only a hard little pride. Tokyo would be a clean break — new scenery for someone who had been wronged, or at least believed herself wronged. I would watch their lives unravel from afar if I wanted to, and when the time was right, I would strike again. There was power in having the last move.

"Next stop, Tokyo," I murmured to the empty row beside me, as if making a vow. My voice was soft, but it held steel. This was only the beginning.

Cathy POV

As I ran out of Jasper's family mansion, my entire world shattered into pieces. My chest tightened with every step, my breath came in sharp gasps, and tears poured down my face uncontrollably. I didn't care who saw me; I just wanted to escape — from the pain, from the shame, from the betrayal that had burned deep into my heart.

I was so hurt. Hurt beyond words. The thought that all the trauma I had carried in silence, all those sleepless nights filled with fear and confusion, were all because of Jasper's brother made me feel sick. My heart ached so much that it felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly from the inside. Even thinking about it made me want to scream. The people I thought that will accept me as their family, the ones I believed that will end up loving me, had become the very source of my deepest wounds.

By the time I got home, my legs were weak. I could barely stand. The moment I saw my kids, I broke down completely. They were my only reason to keep breathing, my only light in this endless darkness. I hugged them tightly, crying silently into their hair. I didn't want them to see how broken I was, but I couldn't hide it anymore.

Without thinking twice, I began packing. I threw clothes, documents, photos — anything I could grab — into my bags. I didn't care about luxury or comfort; I just needed freedom. I went to the bank and withdrew every penny I had. My hands trembled as I signed the withdrawal slip, but my heart was steady. I was determined to leave this place, to go far away from the country that had done nothing but cause me pain.

"Mom, where are we going?" my little Luna asked, her innocent voice trembling with curiosity.

I forced a smile through my tears and knelt to her level, brushing her hair gently. "Somewhere nice, my love," I whispered. "Somewhere beautiful, where no one can hurt us anymore."

She smiled softly, trusting me completely — and that broke me even more.

That evening, I bought a train ticket from Los Angeles to San Diego. It cost $120, but I didn't care. Every cent spent was a step closer to peace. As the train moved, I sat by the window with Luna resting her head on my lap and my son fast asleep beside me. I watched the city lights fade into the distance, the reflection of my tears blending with the night outside.

When we arrived in San Diego, I didn't stop. I boarded a bus heading to Tijuana, Mexico. The ticket was only $10, but to me, it was the price of freedom. I didn't care about the exhaustion or the long hours. All I knew was that every mile between me and that mansion felt like healing.

Once I reached Tijuana, the air felt different — softer, kinder. The ocean breeze carried a sense of calm I hadn't felt in years. I contacted a local house agent and bought a small house near the lake. It wasn't much — just a cozy home with peeling paint and old tiles — but it was mine. It was peace.

When I arrived at the house, I stepped outside and looked around. The sound of the waves crashing softly against the shore, the sight of the sun dipping below the horizon — it all felt like a gentle embrace after a long battle. I breathed in deeply, feeling the salty air fill my lungs, and for the first time in forever, I didn't feel trapped.

That night, after putting the kids to bed, I stood by the window and stared out at the moonlit water. My heart still ached, the memories still haunted me, but there was something new within me — hope.

"This is it," I whispered to myself. "A new beginning. A new life for me and my children."

And as the wind brushed against my face, carrying away the scent of the past, I silently vowed that no matter what it took, I would never let anyone break me again.

Jude's POV

Sitting there, surrounded by chaos and deafening silence, I could feel my entire world collapsing on top of me. The look of disgust on everyone's faces replayed in my mind over and over again—especially Grandpa's words that struck deeper than any slap could.

"You are so shameless, Jude!" he had yelled before storming out of the hall. Those words echoed in my chest like a curse. For the first time, I felt truly… empty. I never knew I had children. I never knew that one careless, drunken night would destroy not just my life—but Cathy's, Jasper's, and even the peace in our home.

When Jasper lunged at me earlier, his punches were not just from anger—they carried pain, betrayal, and disappointment. And honestly? I deserved every single one of them. I sat there afterward, bleeding and broken, but the wounds inside hurt far worse.

I went upstairs, dragging my tired body along, and collapsed on the bed. My head was spinning. How did I even become this monster everyone now despises?

I looked around my room—expensive walls, polished furniture, fancy suits—but none of it could fill the emptiness inside me. The truth was, I had been broken for a long time. I was always jealous of Jasper—his intelligence, his calmness, the way our parents loved him so effortlessly. I thought turning bad would make them notice me, but all it did was make me lose myself.

I pulled out my phone and, with trembling fingers, booked a flight to Canada. Maybe there, I could start over. Maybe I could breathe again. But deep down, I knew running away would never erase my guilt.

"Knock, knock."

My head jerked toward the door. "Come in," I said weakly.

The door creaked open, and there she was—Jane. Her eyes were red, her expression hard. The same Jane who once laughed at my stupid jokes now looked at me like I was a stranger.

"I heard you're going to Canada," she began, her voice laced with disgust. "Are you serious right now, Jude? You're running away again? You've destroyed Jasper's happiness, shattered Cathy's world, and you think the best solution is to escape?"

"Jane, I—"

"Shut up!" she shouted, tears forming in her eyes. "You disgust me! You hurt an innocent woman and your own brother. You're a shame to this family."

Before I could say another word, she spat on my face and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The silence that followed was louder than her scream. My chest ached. I pressed my hands to my face and finally broke down. I cried—not out of self-pity, but because I realized what I had become. A failure. A coward. A stain on the people who once loved me.

I sat there until the sky grew dark, replaying Cathy's tears in my mind, Jasper's rage, and the disappointment in Grandpa's eyes. For the first time in my life, I wished I could go back—back to when I could've made different choices, before greed and jealousy destroyed everything.

"Tomorrow," I whispered to myself. "Tomorrow I'll go see her. I'll apologize… even if she never forgives me."

But deep inside, I knew forgiveness was something I might never deserve.

Jasper's POV

Watching Cathy walk away shattered something deep inside me. The pain in her eyes—God, it burned into my soul. I've seen her smile, I've seen her laugh, I've even seen her angry, but I've never seen her like this. Broken. Betrayed. Completely shattered.

I just stood there, frozen, as she disappeared through the mansion gates with tears streaming down her face. Every part of me wanted to chase after her, to hold her, to tell her that none of this was her fault—that if anyone should bear the pain, it should be me.

The room was silent now. My mother sat with her head in her hands. My father couldn't look at me. Grandpa's disappointment filled the air like thick smoke. Jude was gone, probably nursing his guilt upstairs, and I… I was left with nothing but regret.

I walked into my room, slammed the door shut, and leaned against it, exhaling shakily. My chest felt tight, my eyes stung, and my heart screamed for her. Cathy. The woman who taught me what real love was. The woman my family tore apart.

I picked up my phone, opened our old chat, and stared at her last message. "Goodnight, muffin ❤️" — it used to make me smile, but now it only deepened the ache in my chest.

"I'm so sorry, Cathy," I whispered to myself. "I should've protected you better."

I couldn't sleep that night. I kept pacing the room, replaying everything that had happened—the slap, the shouting, the revelation, the way she looked at me before she left. That look… it said everything. Pain. Disappointment. Love, buried under heartbreak.

By dawn, I had made up my mind. I didn't care what anyone thought anymore—not Grandpa, not my parents, not even the world. I was going to find her.

I was going to apologize—not just with words, but with every ounce of sincerity in my heart. I owed her that. After all the pain my family caused her, after everything she lost because of us… she deserved to hear me say it:

"Cathy, I'm sorry. And I'll never stop fighting to make things right."

The next morning

"Ding ding…" my phone rang endlessly beside me. I groaned, rubbing my eyes before picking it up.

"Hey, why are you calling this early?" I asked, my voice still heavy with sleep.

"Sir, please… check online," James' voice trembled, and before I could ask what was wrong, the line went dead.

A bad feeling crawled through me as I opened my browser. The first headline I saw made my blood run cold:

"Breaking News: Mr. Jude Antonia Impregnates a Black Girl—Mother of Twins Identified!"

I didn't even finish the sentence before rage consumed me. My grip tightened, and I smashed the phone against the wall.

"Who the hell did this?!" I shouted, already calling James again.

"It was an anonymous blogger, sir. No one knows the source," he stammered.

"Delete it! Now! I don't care what it takes—wipe it off the internet!" I barked, my tone sharp enough to cut glass.

"Yes, sir! Right away!" he said before hanging up.

My heartbeat was pounding violently against my ribs. Without even changing out of my pajamas, I stormed out of my room, grabbed my car keys, and jumped into my car. The cold morning wind slapped against my face as I sped through the streets, not caring about the lights or the horns. My mind was fixed on one thing—Cathy.

When I arrived at her apartment, I slammed the car door and ran toward the entrance, my chest tight with panic. But then I froze.

In front of her door stood Jude and Jane, both knocking repeatedly. Jude looked pale, nervous, and guilty, while Jane's face carried that mixture of anger and worry she often wore when things got out of control.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" I barked, my voice echoing through the corridor.

Jude turned around slowly, guilt written all over his face. "Jasper… I—"

"Don't even say a word!" I snapped, stepping closer. "Haven't you done enough already?!"

Jane tried to calm the situation. "Jasper, please, we just want to talk to her. She's not opening the door."

I glanced at Cathy's door—locked, silent, no sign of movement inside. My heart clenched tighter. Was she inside crying? Did she see the article?

"Cathy…" I whispered under my breath, guilt choking me. "Please open the door."

I rested my forehead against the wooden frame, my voice trembling as I added, "I'm sorry. For everything."

But there was still no sound—only silence. And somehow, that silence hurt more than anything else.

Watch out for chapter 13

To be continued...

KÃRMZY 💋💋❤️‍🩹

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