chapter 5

“Have you gone nuts?” Vivian quickly replied.

“Get out right now, before I do something I will regret,” Jerald responded harshly, his voice sharp with anger.

As he spoke, he got up from the bed and walked straight toward Vivian, who stood beside the door. When he reached her, fueled by rage, he grabbed her hands to push her out. She resisted. He pulled her toward himself—then shoved her out the door.

She fell backward onto the floor.

He slammed the door, not caring what was happening to her.

He returned to Matilda, who was exactly where she had been kneeling, a smile spread across her face. It was obvious—she was very happy that Jerald had treated Vivian so harshly.

Hey, babe, calm down already. I know she can be a handful sometimes.

With her finger pressed against his lips, she whispered, “Shhh,” stopping Jerald from talking about what had just happened. Her left hand rested on his chest as she leaned forward, her body brushing against his. She glanced back over her shoulder, slowly swaying her hips, teasing him.

With a gentle push, Jerald found himself lying flat on his back.

She turned slowly, giving him a full view of her body—her curves, every enticing line. It was a sight he had always loved. He bit his lip, eyes drinking her in, his patience slipping away by the second. When he reached out to touch her, she caught his hand and guided it back, denying him.

He let out a quiet breath, half-frustrated, half-thrilled.

I love this, he thought with a smirk. His heart pounded; his body burned with anticipation.

He folded his hands behind his head, forcing himself to stay still.

This is what she would never do… all she knows is to—

His thoughts broke apart as Matilda moved over him, taking control, not allowing him to move his hands.

“Come on, baby… yeah… yeah…” he moaned.

She rose again, kneeling between his legs, her movements quick, almost competitive. The sounds in the room grew louder, faster, and breathless. She didn’t slow down.

“Ah… ahh—F**k…”

Suddenly, he pulled her up and pushed her onto the bed.

Confusion flashed across her face. Is he angry? What did I do wrong?

But before she could speak, he dragged her closer, gripping her legs as he moved toward her. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching him, unable to look away. The moment he reached her, a loud moan escaped her lips. She dropped back against the bed, fingers clutching the sheets.

“F-U-C-K - ME … yeah…”

The bed shook, the room filling with the sound of movement, moan and breath. Her voice grew louder and louder—so loud that Vivian, downstairs, could hear everything as if she were in the room with them.

In the parlor, Vivian sat and cried. Jerking up in shock Above her, the sounds changed—objects falling, something breaking.

Upstairs, they had left the bed for the makeup table, where Vivian had carefully arranged her jewelry in an unlocked box. Jerald lifted Matilda onto it, then swept his arm across the surface. Bottles, brushes, and trinkets crashed to the floor.

The noise echoed through the room.

What should have been a moment of passion now sounded more like a war being fought behind a locked door.

Vivian sat still, staring straight ahead, her eyes fixed on nothing. She seemed lost in her thoughts—so lost it was as if her mind were slipping away. The world no longer existed for her.

Anna stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.

“Ma… ma’am?”

No response.

She shook her again, a little harder this time—but it was useless. Vivian didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She didn’t speak. She was trapped somewhere deep inside her pain.

Her forehead burned with heat. A frightening fever had taken over her body, leaving her skin numb, unresponsive to touch or feeling.

Anna hesitated, confusion and fear mixing in her eyes. Then, suddenly, she turned and ran upstairs, straight to Jerald’s door.

She knocked.

And knocked again.

And again.

But he never came.

Inside the room, Jerald didn’t even bother to check. He assumed it was Vivian.

On the bed, Matilda lay on his chest, tracing idle patterns across his skin.

“Don’t you want to answer whoever is at the door?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jerald scoffed. “It’s her. She would never let me have a moment’s peace. Everything she’s asked of me, I’ve given. Yet she can’t give me the one thing I asked of her.”

He paused, bitterness tightening his jaw.

“A son. Is it so hard to bear fruit? Or is it that I don’t deserve a child of my own?”

Matilda raised her head to look at him, his expression softened as he looked at Matilda.

“Hey, baby… I’m going to give you a seed. An heir to your legacy—someone who’ll take after you and your influence.”

He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Downstairs, after what felt like forever, Anna grabbed the landline and dialed Dr. Jonathan’s number.

Ring…

Ring…

Her hands trembled. Sweat rolled down her forehead. Fear clung to her voice.

“Hello… good evening, sir.”

“Hello. Good evening, Mrs. Jerald. How are you today?” Dr. Jonathan asked.

“This is Anna, please, Doctor… I need your help. Mrs. Jerald is very quiet. She’s not moving. She’s not talking. It seems like she’s unconscious.”

“What? Did she fall?”

“No, sir. She has been sitting. She’s still sitting, but she can’t talk, and it doesn’t seem like she understands me. Please… please come help her.”

Her voice cracked. Tears blurred her words.

“Please… come.”

“I’m on my way,” he replied. “Just hold on.”

Moments later, the wail of an ambulance pierced the compound.

Dr. Jonathan rushed into the house and found Vivian exactly where Anna had left her—seated, silent, distant from the world around her.

“When did this happen?” he asked urgently. “What was she doing before?”

He placed his stethoscope against her chest, then checked her blood pressure. His expression darkened.

It was dangerously high.

Anna swallowed. “She only exchanged a few words with Mr. Jerald. After that, she ran downstairs crying. When I came to check on her, she was already like this.”

“Where is Mr. Jerald?” Dr. Jonathan asked sharply.

“He’s upstairs,” Anna replied.

“Doing what?” The doctor’s brows pulled together. He looked at her, eyes filled with anger. “Answer me.”

Anna hesitated. “He is… with someone.”

“What?” His voice rose. “You mean Jerald is in this house?”