Chapter 5: The Old Enemies

CASSIAN MORETTI

Three years had passed, That’s how long I’ve kept this new mask in place.

To everyone else, my life is the picture of success. A new fiancé, Another son, Asher Moretti.

A family portrait so good the media eats it up, except there’s no picture to print about my “fiancé” who prefers her privacy, or so I’ve told them.

No one had ever seen her, no one knows her, and that’s exactly how I’ve designed it.

But the truth? There is no fiancé, there is no wife and I’m keeping it that way. I’ve been living inside a mausoleum of my own making.

Donna and Jade. My wife and son and my mother, They were my life, the only three people I ever allowed past the walls I built.

And I buried them; no, I lost them in a firestorm of a jet crash seven years ago.

One moment they were there, laughing in the cabin before takeoff; and the next, the world told me their bodies were unrecognizable, my world ended that instance.

I’ve never forgiven myself for not being on that flight, even though I know I would’ve died too.

I told myself I’d never marry again. I swore it over their graves. My heart was buried with them, and I’ve never once dug it back up.

My chest became empty, heartless, frozen and incapable of loving.

But the world doesn’t care about vows made in grief.

My father’s will is still a chain around my neck, 7 years already ticked down until I must be married with a son to claim what’s mine.

I can only curate this picture using Asher, and a non-existent wife… fathering a biological son will break my promise to Donna, and I will never father one.

People think I’ve moved on from Jade and Donna. That Asher is my future.

But every time I look at that bright boy, I see Jade’s smile. Every time I lie to the media about just speaking to my “wife” whilst holding Asher… My heart calls on Donna’s name wishing she were standing beside me with Jade.

I will never love again. Not really. Not in the way that matters. Because the truth is, I’m not building a new life—I’m protecting what’s left of the old one. And nothing… no one… will ever take their place.

…

“Daddy…” Asher called with a bright smile on his face, he was handsome and healthy and most especially a genius, a creative mind who loves computers, just like Jade. Jade loved computer technology and science.

“What is it, King Asher?” I squatted to his height level.

“Everytime you talk about mommy in the press, you will not let me see her. I want to see mommy” Asher said and my chest pulled, hurting like I swallowed lava.

“Donna… she..” I stuttered.

“Escort the young master away” Jared quickly ordered, the guards immediately came in and escorted Asher out.

“My lord,” Jared said, his brows drawn tight, “Justice Emeritus and the legal team have sent a memorandum. They won’t attend any meeting or hearing unless you produce both the marriage certificate and DNA evidence proving your son’s legitimacy.”

I didn’t answer, my gaze shifting to Lionel Connel, my private lawyer.

“No court or legal body can challenge a DNA result or birth certificate issued by the father of a child who is legally registered as their parent—biological or not,”

Lionel said evenly. “If you secure legal recognition from the Global Tribunal of Genetic Rights, which you had already found a way to do… their paternity documents are final. No other legal authority in the world can dispute them.”

He paused, his tone sharpening. “But there's still a catch; the maternity DNA test. Your father’s legal team is too ironclad and they will test the mother’s DNA against the child’s. Which means, Cassian… you’ll have to be legally married to that woman.”

…

CHELLEY

I’ve lived three years in this big beach house my captor locked me in, guarded by men with guns and watched by mean maids who loathes me for reasons I don’t know.

I’ve never once seen my son. I don’t even know what he looks like. The emptiness of that truth has eaten holes in me. They said I had postpartum madness.

My mind was shattered. I tried to end my life. I cut lines into my own skin just to feel something that was mine, No one helped and no one came… Amother reminded of how cruel my families are.

But somewhere in the blur of days, I realised I had to stay alive if I ever wanted to hold my child again.

I swallowed the pills they gave me. I let the therapist speak; she appeared one day, claiming my captor sent her. Why would he? After taking my only hope and freedom away from me?

I pushed her away… but the truth was, I needed my mind back.

I had to be strong. Strong enough to face them all. Alec Kensington. Cierra Gomez. Mr. and Mrs. Gomez. Mr. and Mrs. Kensington. And Cassian Moretti—my captor himself.

I’d make them all pay in spades and blood.

“Bitch, go get some tomatoes from the store. We need to cook!” the stewardess snapped, shoving a crumpled grocery list into my hand.

My captor owned dozens of properties, but this beach house was the smallest—and the one that felt most like a cage… workers who are meant to serve me became my masters.

The stewardess ruled it like a warden. More than once, she starved me for three to five days just to prove she could. I knew better than to defy her. Not yet.

I knew she is the watcher of the beach house and I must do whatever she says.

The guard drove me to the grocery store, he parked distance away watching me closely..

I was just like a normal person on the street. I dared not attempt to run… the last several times I tried I was locked in the dark room for three months with watery porridge as food.

I got my groceries and got the receipt and as I was about to turn to leave I bumped into an elegantly dressed woman, I couldn’t dare look her in the face as I fell on my knees and begged for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry… please forgive me” but I was met with a resounding slap on my face.

“You lowlife, how dare you stain my new designer gown with that stinky rotten tomatoes?”

She grated her voice, until I turned to look at her dress where she was stained, my heart almost jumped out of my chest, this person was Cierra.

Embarrassment burned through my face. She couldn’t see me like this. Not here. Not now. I turned quickly, my only thought was to get out of the store.

But I didn’t make it far before a voice stopped me standing and blocking my way.

It was my ex husband Alec Kensington.

“Well, well… who do we have here? Chelley, her royal barrenness.” Alec Kensington’s mockery slithered into my ears, and my knees nearly buckled. Of all places… my greatest enemy, in a grocery store.

Cierra’s gasp was loud and theatrical. “Oh, it really is you! My God, look at you… pale, and thin what are you now, a beggar? A maid?” Her voice was pitched to carry, and heads began to turn in the store.

“Alec… let me go right now,” I said through clenched teeth.

“No,” he said, his smirk twisting into something darker, and then Cierra started.

“Everyone, listen up! This woman used to be a maid in my house three years ago. I threw her out for stealing from me.

Then she came crawling back, begging for shelter like the stray she is. Out of the kindness of my heart, I took her in again.”

Cierra stepped forward, her tone suddenly breaking into a trembling sob.

“And how did she repay me? She was so jealous of me, she pushed me down the stairs and killed my unborn child!” Her voice cracked, and she covered her face like the perfect victim.

“What—? Cierra, what are you talking about?” My voice shook, but the murmurs had already started.

“What a lowlife.”

“How wicked.”

“She killed an unborn child?”

Cierra sniffled loudly. “And after three years, she still hasn’t learned. She even came here today to steal groceries!”

My heart plummeted. “I paid for my groceries. I have my receipt.” I said loudly trying to convince these people who looked at me with disgust and hate in their eyes… Alec even brought his phone to record.

I wouldn’t let them bully me; not here… I paid and have my receipt.

“You wretched, pitiful baby killer,” Cierra spat. “Show us the receipt, thief! or we call the cops right now.”

And then I got the final blow, just as I was about to check my grocery bag, The cashier, the same one who’d taken my payment, tore the receipt, and handed it to me, looked me straight in the eye and said,

“She is a thief indeed… She didn’t pay.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My pulse roared in my ears. What the hell was going on?