Chapter 85 – The Night of Hot Chocolate

“I’ve already waited far too long for you,” Leonel murmured, closing his eyes.

In that instant, old memories surged back, dragging him ten years into the past.

At the time, Leonel had just returned from a long journey. He was exhausted, disheveled, and burdened with wounds no one could see. Once again, he had failed in his search—finding no proof, no clue at all about his father’s death. The world felt empty, and the grand mansion he stayed in that night was filled only with shadows of loneliness.

He sat alone in the back garden, staring up at the gray night sky, both hands covering his face. For the first time in years, he felt truly broken.

“Why do you look so sad?”

The gentle, curious voice drifted from behind him.

Leonel turned, and there she was—for the very first time. Jeslyn. A young girl still in her school uniform, her long black hair flowing freely, her eyes shining with a rare, disarming honesty.

Jeslyn walked closer, carrying a cup of hot chocolate whose sweet aroma lingered in the cold night air. “I don’t know what happened to you,” she said softly with a small smile. “But usually, hot chocolate makes people feel a little better.”

Leonel froze. He stared at her young face, her pure gaze—one that didn’t judge, didn’t condemn. She was the only person who looked at him without fear.

“Why do you care?” he asked hoarsely.

Jeslyn sat beside him without hesitation. “Because you look lonely. And I hate seeing someone sit alone on a night like this.”

Something stirred within Leonel’s chest—an unfamiliar warmth he hadn’t felt since losing his parents. From that night onward, Jeslyn’s innocent smile became etched in his memory. A smile that, ten years later, still haunted him.

“My name is Jeslyn,” she said with a cheerful introduction.

Leonel said nothing, only staring at her in silence.

“Wait—what happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?” Jeslyn asked, her brows furrowing in concern as she noticed a faint bruise.

Leonel looked down, silent for a moment, then gave a bitter smile that held no trace of joy. “It’s none of your business,” he replied curtly.

But Jeslyn didn’t back away. Instead, she leaned closer, her eyes stubborn and determined—something rare for someone her age. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But don’t pretend to be strong. Sometimes the people who act the strongest are actually the most fragile.”

The words pierced straight through Leonel’s heart. Simple as they were, they felt like something he had needed all along—a recognition of his fragility, despite the world’s demand that he remain unbreakable.

Jeslyn then handed him the cup of hot chocolate. “Here. I promise it’s sweeter than the pain you’re holding inside.”

He looked at her for a long time, almost unable to believe someone dared to speak to him so honestly. Slowly, he accepted the cup, his fingers brushing against hers. The touch was fleeting, yet it managed to crack the walls he had built so carefully around himself.

“Leonel,” he whispered at last, finally saying his name.

Jeslyn’s face lit up with a wide, genuine smile. “Nice to meet you, Leonel.”

Remembering that small moment now, Leonel gave a bitter smile. Not one of joy, but of irony—a twisted echo of a wound he had carried too long. That night, ten years ago, had already been enough to make him fall for her. Jeslyn, the innocent schoolgirl with a cup of hot chocolate, had unknowingly carved herself deep into his heart.

But life gave him no chance. The very next day, he had to leave for Brazil—preparing himself for revenge and reclaiming Clovies.

Since then, his steps had never paused. Amid countless battles and endless nights, Jeslyn’s smile would appear in his mind, the only flicker of light in his consuming darkness.

“If only I’d had the courage to find her again back then,” Leonel whispered faintly, staring into the vodka in his glass.

Now, ten years had passed, and fate had turned cruel. He had returned not to find the young girl who once offered him hot chocolate, but a grown woman standing beside Jefran—his own cousin.

Jeslyn smiled as she introduced herself before the family, and her words still stabbed him deeply:

“He is my fiancé.”

Leonel exhaled slowly, his shoulders sinking. “It turns out I didn’t just lose my parents. I also lost the only girl who made me believe I was still worthy of love,” he rasped.

At first, Leonel never intended to approach Jeslyn. He only wanted to focus on his revenge. But that night changed everything—an accident that made him unwilling to ever let Jeslyn go again.

“Starting tonight,” Leonel whispered to himself, his jaw tightening, “I will never let you go again, Jeslyn.”

Meanwhile, Jeslyn sat slumped on her apartment sofa. The dim light cast long shadows across the room, while a drizzle outside her window deepened the suffocating quiet.

Her mind replayed Leonel’s words—his sharp taunts, his biting remarks, his cold, hurtful sentences.

And yet, beneath all of that, there was another side of him she could never deny. Leonel had never shielded her directly, but somehow, he had always pushed her to stand tall, to not fall, to appear elegant and show her strength. In his rough, unforgiving way, Leonel had helped her rise.

Jeslyn squeezed her eyes shut, as if to banish every trace of him. But the harder she tried, the clearer his face appeared in her mind. His piercing gaze, his hidden wounds, and something else—something warm—that she longed for without reason.

“Why can’t I hate you?” she whispered, her voice breaking, choked with sobs she tried to contain.

Her heart ached unbearably, because she knew the truth: she loved Leonel, even though she shouldn’t.

She wanted to hate him. She wanted to believe that he was nothing but a dark shadow from her past. But every time he was near, all her defenses crumbled.

Jeslyn pressed her hand against her chest, feeling the painful throb. “I want to hate you, Leonel… but I can’t.”

“Why must my feelings for you be this strong?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She had once imagined what it might be like if their relationship could have been normal—if she didn’t have to hold herself back. Perhaps it could have been happiness. But all of that had to be erased, before she sank too deep.

“Wake up, Jeslyn. He’s the one who killed your twin,” she whispered to herself.

The words struck like a knife she had plunged into her own heart.

“Killed my twin.”

The phrase echoed over and over in her ears, slapping her with cruel reality.

Jeslyn hugged herself tightly, her body trembling. She knew she couldn’t afford to drown in feelings that would destroy her. Leonel wasn’t a man she could hold onto. He was a wound, a secret darkness, a shadow of the past that should remain buried.

Yet the more she resisted, the more his presence consumed her. His smile, his gaze, even his cold yet subtle concern—all of it seeped into her like poison.

Jeslyn scrubbed at her tears harshly. “Stop it… stop thinking about him!” she cried hoarsely, her voice echoing against the empty apartment walls.

She bowed her head, drawing deep breaths before lifting her gaze toward her reflection in the small mirror on the side table. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen.

“I have to be strong. I can’t fall into this trap of emotions. If I let myself be weak, Leonel will destroy me… just like he destroyed the person I loved most,” she muttered.

But deep inside, a softer voice whispered—weakening her resolve.

“If that’s true, then why do I still want him beside me?”

Jeslyn clenched her fists, torn between truth and longing, between love and the unbearable shadow of betrayal.

***