Can love truly heal the pain of moral wounds and overcome the burden of doubt and remorse ? What do you think, dear readers ? Betrayal livescloser to us than we imagine. Be careful.
ANGOMA Secondary Villa
Lying at the bottom of the bathtub, Céline was thinking about how her life had come to this, receiving contempt from those who were supposed to be her family. The cause was love. A forbidden love that continued to cost her dearly. A one-sided relationship built on manipulation and lies. Her marriage had been constructed on the foundation of a contract designed to protect her family from an internal war between two clans. Josh was one of the only true pillars she had left, and she would never allow anyone to destroy what they had built together. Not even the dead and their oppressive presence.
Sensing a presence nearby, she lifted her head from the water. Her gaze fell directly into a pair of black eyes that held not contempt, but a deeply unsettling emptiness. Troubling, almost frightening. Should she still consider that a sign of affection ?
"My love," he said, placing his hand against her bloodied cheek.
"You left without a word to your husband. Do you think that was wise ?"
His gaze slid down to his wife's exposed chest before slowly rising back to her troubled jade eyes.
"I don't need to tell him anything. He almost always knows where to find me. Where is all this blood coming from ?"
If there was one thing Céline knew about her husband, it was that he was unpredictable. He had neither remorse nor scruple when it came to hurting, destroying, or eliminating anything that stood in the way of his plans. Even his own family was not spared from the wreckage of his dark personality. A personality hidden beneath a mask of disarming neutrality. The only people he truly considered were his late sister Leonora, and his wife with her insolent gaze, for reasons entirely his own.
"No one has the right to hurl insults at my wife without paying a steep price," he declared, running his thumb slowly across her lips.
"Georgia is your sister. Spilling blood doesn't resolve conflict."
"That changes nothing about what she said and what she did," he replied, withdrawing his hand and rising to his feet.
He left the bathroom without another word. One thing was certain for Céline, this conversation was far from over. The letter that had been read aloud had planted seeds of doubt and suspicion between her and her husband. This was not a good omen for what lay ahead.
"You have doubts about me," Céline said, not a question, stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe.
He stood at the balcony, his back to her, staring out at the dark forest below, a glass in hand, wrapped in a heavy silence.
She approached him and faced him squarely, composed on the surface, her heart hammering beneath. They looked at each other without a word. Then Céline smiled coldly and delivered a hard slap across his face. He made no move to stop her, remaining unmoved as he drained his glass of bourbon in one swift motion.
A suffocating pain struck her in the chest, and a quiet fury clouded her vision. That expression of his infuriated her more than anything. And the drops of blood on his face sent a chill down her spine.
"Why won't you say anything ? Since when are you short of words when it comes to telling me exactly what you think ?" she demanded, seizing the front of his shirt with both hands.
"What do you want to hear, exactly ? Yes, I have doubts about you regarding my sister's murder. Yes, I suspect my own wife of betraying me, of collaborating with the enemy to destroy my family. Is that what you want to hear, Céline ?" he said, his voice dark and edged with irritation as he encircled her wrists with force.
"That is infinitely better than the silence you impose on me !"
She yanked her arms free and stepped back, her throat tight.
"You think it's that simple, to just set aside everything I've been told ? We're talking about Leonora's murder !"
"Yes. I know. I'm aware. Her death is just as hard for me to accept, and I want to rip the head off whoever is responsible just as much as you do. But what hurts me most is seeing the doubt in your eyes. Your lack of trust in me. I would never have plotted against the only friend I had. I am innocent, Josh. Even if I know you've doubted me from the very beginning."
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, struggling to collect herself. He crossed the room, crouched to her level, and took her hands in his.
"Listen to me, Céline. Whatever doubts may invade my mind, they will never be stronger than the bond between us. I will be with you, whatever comes of this case, whatever the future holds. I believe in you. And I will not call my trust in you into question," he declared, his voice solemn.
Céline held his gaze but knew better than to take her husband's words at face value. After all, he was perfectly capable of taking her life at any moment, with that same expressionless face.
The vilest betrayal always comes from those closest to us. And why not from those who share our very blood.
***
"How pleasant the smell of blood is."
The wind rose over the moonlit prairie, carrying the scent of renegade corpses in every direction. Beings who had betrayed their clan, whose very existence was a crime. Taking one last drag of his cigar, he rose and stepped through the ring of flames, adjusting the sleeves of his dark jacket.
He dropped what remained of the cigar to the ground and crushed it beneath his shoe before walking toward the lake a few steps away. His attention was drawn to the center of the water, where a powerful energy stirred. A dark, humanoid shadow emerged from the depths, surrounded by a white haze, and slowly approached to hand him a letter. He smiled with quiet malice as he took it, watching the shadow sink back into the darkness below.
"The ANGOMA family has a gift for attracting trouble. They had better start preparing a new coffin," he said, still smiling.