Chapter 71 – Where is Jeslyn?

“Where is Jeslyn?” Leonel asked bluntly.

“Jeslyn? Why are you asking me about her? Isn’t she yours now? Oh, right—stolen goods,” Jefran sneered with sarcasm.

“I’m serious. Where is Jeslyn?” Leonel pressed firmly.

“I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her since that dinner,” Jefran replied. “Oh, maybe Jeslyn’s running away from you because she knows just how rotten you are!”

Annoyed, Leonel grabbed Jefran’s collar.

“What? Going to hit me? Go on, hit me!” Jefran mocked.

Leonel exhaled sharply and released his grip. His jaw tightened, eyes sharp as blades.

“Don’t play games with me, Jefran. I can smell it—you’re hiding something.”

Jefran smirked, his gaze filled with resentment. “You’re too confident, Leonel. Do you really think everyone still bows to you? No. There are people far braver than you, and Jeslyn made the right choice by staying away.”

Leonel narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re smart enough, you’ll figure it out yourself.” Jefran crossed his arms, deliberately provoking him. “Or maybe Jeslyn finally realized that being with you would only destroy her—like everyone else who gets close to you.”

Leonel stepped closer, his face just inches from Jefran’s. His voice dropped low, sharp as a blade.

“If I ever find out you’ve meddled in Jeslyn’s affairs or tried to trap her, I’ll make sure you’ll never stand in this family again.”

Though Jefran’s gaze flickered, he didn’t back down. “You already ruined my life once, Leonel. If this time I can make you lose someone you love, then I will.”

Leonel’s eyes blazed with fury, but he turned away without another word. His footsteps echoed heavily, leaving suffocating tension behind.

William sighed in relief, while Jefran stared at Leonel’s back with grim satisfaction.

“You’ll never have Jeslyn, Leonel!” he sneered inwardly.

Jeslyn stepped out of the villa and noticed the snowfall. She was now at her private villa, a place no one knew about. She had bought it years ago to spend time with her twin brother, Julio. Both had busy lives—Julio, a police captain, was nearly impossible to meet.

Whenever Jeslyn missed him, she would come here, reliving their precious memories together.

The cold air bit her skin as snowflakes settled on her loose hair. Pulling her thick coat tighter, she gazed at the vast blanket of white in the villa’s yard. The silence was almost eerie, broken only by the wind rattling against the glass windows.

She stepped back inside, lit the fireplace, and sat on the sofa with a vacant stare. The villa had always been her sanctuary, not just from the chaos of the Clovies business world, but also from wounds that never healed.

On the side table sat a photo frame of her and Julio by the lakeside, smiling brightly—inseparable. Jeslyn brushed her fingers across the glass, her voice trembling.

“Julio… if only you were still here, maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone.”

Her eyes glistened with tears, her chest tightening at the memory of her twin. Julio, the protective brother, was gone. Jeslyn still remembered that night vividly—the night the tragic news shattered half her soul.

Tears streamed down as she closed her eyes. This villa was the only place she could still feel Julio’s presence, watching over her, keeping her company.

“Forgive me, Julio,” she whispered.

Leonel lit a cigarette only to stub it out immediately. His office was hazy, the glass desk cluttered with scattered documents. His fists clenched tight, veins straining.

“Jeslyn…” he muttered hoarsely, almost like a groan of pain.

Since leaving Jefran’s house, his mind hadn’t been at peace. No news, no trace—Jeslyn had vanished, and it was driving him mad.

He stood by the large window, staring at the snow-covered city. Streetlights blurred through his red, furious eyes. He slammed his fist against the glass, the sound sharp, his knuckles reddening.

“Why did you leave, Jeslyn? Why do you always run from me?” His voice cracked with anguish.

Blade entered cautiously, carrying some files. “Sir, we’ve checked every apartment, hotel, even Mrs. Jeslyn’s old houses. Not a single trace.”

Leonel turned sharply, frustration burning in his eyes. “You mean to tell me Jeslyn just vanished? You expect me to accept an empty report like that?” he barked.

Blade lowered his head. “We’ll keep searching. But it seems Mrs. Jeslyn truly doesn’t want to be found.”

The words pierced Leonel. He buried his face in his hands, then let out a bitter laugh. “Doesn’t want to be found—even by me? She’d rather hide than look at me once, is that it?”

Silence hung heavy, broken only by Leonel’s harsh breaths. He sank into a chair, head bowed.

“Find her. No matter what it takes!” he roared.

“Yes, Sir.”

Blade left, while Leonel remained seated, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His chest heaved, each breath like a painful weight.

Jeslyn’s image haunted him—her soft smile, her gaze that could be cold yet cut straight through his soul. And now, all of it was gone, ripped from his life.

“Jessy, why are you doing this to me? What did I do so wrong that you had to walk away?” he whispered.

Pacing the room like a trapped beast, he kicked over a chair, smashed a glass barehanded. Blood dripped down his fingers, but he didn’t care.

“Sir, Miss Clarissa is here to see you,” came a voice from outside.

Leonel shut his eyes, drawing deep breaths to rein in his rage.

“Fine. Let her wait in the living room,” he ordered.

“Yes, Sir.”

***