Chapter 50 – Jefran’s Fury

“What are you doing here, Leonel?” Jefran demanded as he stormed into Jeslyn’s apartment.

“Why? Is that a problem?” Leonel replied casually, arms crossed over his chest.

Jefran turned his gaze to Jeslyn, who remained silent. “Care to explain what’s going on, Jeslyn? I’m your fiancé—what are you doing here with my brother, dressed so casually in your apartment? How long has this been going on?”

“Don’t blame her. I’m the one who came to see her,” Leonel said, stepping forward and gently pulling Jeslyn behind him.

“You’re just going to stay silent, Jes? Don’t forget—I’m your fiancé!” Jefran shouted, still in shock.

“Why, Jef? You have another woman behind my back, don’t you?” Jeslyn shot back. “Our engagement was an arrangement, remember?”

“But we agreed to date each other—to give our hearts a chance, Jeslyn!” Jefran snapped furiously.

“Watch your tone, Jefran,” Leonel warned coldly.

Jeslyn clutched Leonel’s arm from behind, her body trembling slightly, but her eyes showed a fierce resolve. She stepped out from behind him and faced Jefran, her voice trembling but clear.

“I did try to open my heart, Jef,” she said softly. “But every time I did, you were busy hiding lies and secrets. I’ve known about that woman for a long time. I know you’re more than just friends.”

Jefran clenched his fists. “That’s… that’s different. I needed time to let go of my past—”

“And you thought I should wait for you? For how long?” Jeslyn interrupted sharply, her voice rising. “I deserve to be happy too. I’m done pretending everything’s fine.”

Leonel stepped forward and looked Jefran straight in the eyes. “You took her for granted. So I have no regrets stepping in.”

“You traitor!” Jefran roared, taking several steps forward, rage blazing in his eyes. “You’re my brother! How could you do this to me?!”

Leonel didn’t flinch. His expression remained calm but icy. “Because you never treated Jeslyn right. You were too busy flaunting your status and titles to realize how to care for someone’s heart.”

Tension crackled between them like a live wire. Jeslyn stepped between the two, raising her hand.

“Enough! I won’t be the reason you two tear each other apart,” she said, her voice hoarse. “If I have to walk away from both of you just to keep the peace, then I will.”

Leonel turned to her immediately. “No. You don’t have to go anywhere, Jessy.”

“Wow. Jessy now?” Jefran growled, his voice filled with disbelief as he stared at the two of them.

His eyes burned with betrayal and pain, but he didn’t argue further. Silence fell over the room like a heavy fog.

“Fine. I get it now,” Jefran said bitterly, forcing a crooked smile. “And Jes, we’re not done. I’ll be waiting for a private conversation with you.” Then he turned and stormed out.

Leonel glanced at Jeslyn, who let out a deep, shaky sigh.

“You don’t have to face him alone. I can be there, help you through this,” Leonel offered gently.

“I have to do this myself, Leonel. I need to talk to him and end it properly. It’s my responsibility,” Jeslyn replied.

Leonel nodded slowly, though it was clear he didn’t agree. His expression was filled with concern, but he respected her decision.

“I won’t be far,” he said softly. “If he pulls anything, you know where to find me.”

Jeslyn gave a small nod, her eyes on the floor as if drawing strength from within herself. “Thank you… for staying.”

Leonel stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t be afraid. Say what you need to say and do what you need to do. I’ll be right behind you, protecting you.”

“Yes,” Jeslyn whispered, tightening her embrace as she rested her head against his chest—her safe place.

The neon lights of the nightclub pulsed in time with the pounding EDM beats, creating a surreal world of sound, light, and chaos. At the dimly lit corner of the bar, Jefran slouched in his seat, an almost-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. His eyes were bloodshot and glossy—not just from alcohol.

“Another one?” the bartender asked, his voice nearly drowned in the thumping music.

“Just pour. Don’t ask questions,” Jefran muttered, handing over his empty glass.

He gripped the neck of the bottle like he was trying to strangle the fury inside him. One more swig burned down his throat—but the pain in his chest was far worse.

Jeslyn.

Leonel.

His brother and his fiancée—two people he trusted most, crushing him without warning. Not even a chance to understand, to catch up. Just standing there, together, like a couple. No guilt in their eyes.

“Heh...” Jefran leaned back against the barstool, laughing bitterly. His head spun, but his thoughts only grew sharper.

“Jessy,” he scoffed. “Sweet nicknames already? Damn… you fell for each other that fast?”

He downed another shot. His head burned, eyes redder than before. The memory replayed over and over—Jeslyn’s determined stare, Leonel’s calm, cutting voice. How they stood together like he no longer mattered.

“She was mine...” he mumbled. “I was the first… I was the one arranged to marry her. But you two…”

He laughed again—this time it sounded more like a scream muffled in his throat.

A woman in a red dress approached, sliding onto the stool beside him. “All alone, handsome?”

Jefran turned slowly, eyes barely focusing. “Alone? Yeah… guess that’s all I ever am now.”

She touched his hand playfully, but he yanked it away. “Leave. You’re not who I’m looking for.”

He stood, swaying, and stumbled toward the VIP section, still clutching the bottle. The music pounded, but the noise inside his head was louder.

“Am I really that awful… that she chose him instead?”

He collapsed onto a couch, burying his face in his hands. But the tears still found a way out. He tried to hate Jeslyn, to curse Leonel. But he couldn’t.

As the night dragged on and the club emptied, Jefran remained in that corner—drunk, furious, and broken.

At exactly 4 a.m., Jefran’s black sports car screeched into the driveway of the family estate. The tires crunched over gravel, loud enough to wake the night guard and send lights flicking on inside the house.

The front door slammed open.

“Jefran?” his mother called from the living room, voice full of concern. “Oh my God, Jefran! Are you drunk?!”

He didn’t answer. His steps were unsteady, his jacket half unzipped, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His eyes were red—from alcohol and the tears he failed to hide.

“What the hell are you doing at this hour?!” his father yelled from the stairs.

Jefran only gave a bitter chuckle as he walked past them without looking back.

“Jefran!” his mother shouted again. But he climbed the stairs slowly, each step heavy, like he could collapse any second.

Then—BAM!—a door slammed upstairs, shaking the house.

Jefran stormed down the hallway, seething. But his steps halted.

Leonel had just stepped out of his room, wearing a dark sweater and long pants. He froze when he saw his brother in that state. Their eyes met—cutting silence between them.

“Don’t,” Jefran said, voice low but intense.

Leonel frowned. “What?”

“Don’t say anything,” Jefran growled, his voice sharp and strained.

He leaned against the wall, struggling to stay upright, but his gaze was like a blade.

Leonel held his breath, wanting to speak, but stayed quiet. He knew anything he said tonight would only make things worse.

Jefran let out a small, mocking laugh. “Funny, huh? This house raised two sons… and one of them can just steal what belongs to the other without a shred of guilt.”

Leonel shook his head slowly, trying to stay calm. “Jeslyn isn’t something you can steal, Jef.”

BANG!

Jefran slammed his palm against the wall. “Shut up! Don’t say her name right now!” he screamed, his voice cracking. “I can still smell her perfume on my shirt! I can still hear her voice in my head!”

Leonel stayed standing, but his eyes began to glisten. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“It’s too late,” Jefran hissed. “You stabbed me in the back, brother.”

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. No more music. No cars. Just Jefran’s ragged breathing and the ticking of the hallway clock.

Finally, Jefran took a step back and shoved open his door.

“I want you gone by morning.”

SLAM!

The door thundered shut, rattling the photo frames on the wall.

Leonel stood alone in the hallway, staring at the door for a long time—then slowly turned and walked away.

Behind that door, Jefran slid to the floor, punching the tiles with his fist before curling over, crying in silence.

Being betrayed by the ones closest to you… hurts the most.

***