Caroline

I smiled brightly at my reflection in the full-length mirror inside our bedroom, absolutely delighted with the dress I was wearing—a gift from Michael.

It was a black bodycon dress that hugged my curves perfectly. The short-strap shoulder bag he gave me matched it beautifully.

I smirked to myself, convinced that there was no way Michael was really single. Knowing him, he would never have picked something this bold for me on his own. Someone definitely helped him choose it—and I hope I get to meet that woman someday.

I had a great time with my family last night. I even slept over at the house, and just like when I was still in school, we stayed up late watching horror movies.

“Sexy,” Timothy whistled as he stepped out of the shower.

He was still dripping wet, so I laughed and dodged him when he tried to wrap his arms around me from behind.

“How do you like my outfit?” I asked, striking a small pose.

“Too revealing. But it looks so good on you that I want to devour you,” he said with a wink.

Giggling, I threw a pillow at him, which he easily caught.

“Well, I’m sorry, Sir. We’re going to be late for dinner with Mom, so get dressed,” I said, putting on the accessories I had chosen for tonight.

“From Darius?” he asked.

I shook my head. “From Michael.”

He went quiet for a moment, then nodded. “He definitely didn’t pick that himself. He doesn’t like you wearing revealing clothes.”

I sighed. “Are you and Michael really never going to make up?”

He laughed as he started buttoning his shirt. “Love, I’ve tried to be friendly with your brother again. He’s just permanently annoyed at me. Let’s not force it for now.”

I pouted. “Are you sure the only reason you two fought was because you made me your girlfriend?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah. I broke the bro code. Why did you have to be so beautiful and kind?”

I rolled my eyes and walked over to him, buttoning his polo shirt.

“Oh, by the way, Rayver called me. He said the plate number of the car you rode in isn’t registered.”

“R-really? Then who was that?” I asked, my nerves tightening again.

Ever since what happened, I’d been paranoid. I constantly felt like someone was watching me.

I snapped out of my thoughts when Timothy kissed me on the lips.

“Are you worried?” he asked softly.

I shook my head and hugged him. “I’ll stop thinking about it. I’ll be fine. You’re here to protect me, right?”

“Of course. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He was about to kiss me again when my phone rang. Laughing, I pulled away and answered Mom’s call. She said she was already on her way to the restaurant.

“How old is your mom again?” Timothy asked as he drove toward the restaurant.

“Forty-six. She was only seventeen when she got pregnant with Darius. I’ve actually been thinking… maybe that’s one of the reasons she left us? She was still young. Maybe she never really got to enjoy her youth?”

Tim shook his head at what I said. “I hate to say this. I can see how much you love your mom despite everything she did. But come on—you were what? Six or seven when she left? That’s still not a reason to abandon you and your brothers.”

I sighed and nodded. “There’s really something wrong with me, isn’t it? I don’t know.”

He chuckled softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just kind. You always try to see the good in people. You always look for reasons behind their actions.”

“Yes, but when it comes to cheating, there’s no justification for me. So you—”

“Can you stop it, love?” he cut in sharply. “You keep bringing that up. Stop reading all that nonsense online.”

“Timothy, are you mad?” I pouted, lightly tapping his thigh. “Sorry, I was just joking.”

He caught my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. “I’m not mad. When have I ever been mad at you? I love you, Rebecca. I can’t wait to marry you.”

Smiling at each other, we entered our favorite restaurant, where I had asked Mom to meet us.

“Oh shoot, I forgot my wallet in the car. I’ll just grab it. Go ahead to our reserved table.”

“I have my wallet with me—”

“What kind of image would I give your mom if I let you pay for our dinner?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Fine. Hurry up.”

“Reserved table for Rebecca Watson,” I told the staff who approached me.

“Let me check, Ma’am.”

“Your table is upstairs, Ma’am. Please allow me to guide you,” he said after confirming our reservation.

“What drinks would you like, Ma’am?” the waiter asked a few minutes later.

Timothy still hadn’t arrived.

I was also starting to wonder where Mom was. Her last message said she was already on her way up to the restaurant.

“I’ll just wait for my companions.”

“Okay, Ma’am.”

I frowned when I glanced at my watch. It had been more than ten minutes, and Timothy still wasn’t here. I was about to stand when he finally appeared.

“Finally! What took you so long?”

My smile faded when I saw how pale he looked. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, yeah. I just went to the restroom. My stomach suddenly started acting up.”

“There, that’s what I was telling you. You ate nachos earlier. There's cheese—”

“Becca…”

I stopped scolding Tim when I heard Mom’s voice.

“Mom, what took you so long? You said you were already on your way up.”

Her lips parted slightly when she saw Timothy, whom I had momentarily left behind when I rushed toward her. I looped my arm through hers and guided her to my fiancé, who looked even paler now.

Mom cleared her throat and let out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, someone called me. I had to take it before coming up. This place is nice, by the way.”

“It’s our favorite restaurant. The food here is really good.”

I let go of my mom and linked my arm with Timothy’s, even nudging him because he seemed oddly frozen while staring at her. I didn’t find it strange—maybe he was just surprised.

Mom didn’t look her age at all.

She looked like she could be my older sister, not someone nearing fifty.

“Timothy, this is my mom, Caroline.”

“So you’re Timothy—the man who’s going to marry my daughter. Nice to meet you,” Mom said, extending her hand.

I elbowed Timothy when he didn’t take it right away. As if snapping out of a trance, he finally shook her hand—though he let go almost instantly.

“Are you okay?” I whispered to him once we were seated.

Timothy cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes, of course. Sorry.”

“Can you eat? Is your stomach really upset? Do you want me to get you some medicine—”

“No need, love. I’m fine.”

“You two look perfect together,” Mom said with a smile, “So how long have you been together, baby girl?”

“Mom, there you go again with ‘baby girl.’”

She laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I embarrass her, Timothy?”

Timothy gave a soft chuckle. “No, Ma’am. It actually suits Rebecca. She is my baby girl.”

I smacked his arm. “You too.”

“Ma’am? How about you call me… Mom? Or you can just call me… Carol.”

The spoon Timothy had been holding clattered against his plate for no apparent reason. He let out an awkward laugh and suddenly excused himself.

“Sorry, Mom. Tim can be really stubborn. He ate nachos earlier—even though he’s lactose intolerant. Now his stomach’s acting up,” I said, shaking my head.

Mom didn’t respond right away. She simply gave a faint smile.

“You love him very much, don’t you?” she asked after a moment.

I nodded. “Very much, Mom. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”

Time passed. Mom and I had already ordered, but Timothy still hadn’t returned. Growing uneasy, I excused myself and followed him to the restroom.

“Tim?” I called from outside the door.

“Timothy?” I repeated after a few more minutes had passed with no response.

Unable to wait any longer, I pushed the door open—even though it was the men’s room.

“Timothy!” I screamed when I saw him collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

Tears streamed down my face as I rushed to him, patting his cheeks, trying to wake him—but he wouldn’t respond.

“Help!” I cried out.

A stall door suddenly slammed open behind me. Before I could even process it, a man appeared.

“What happened?”

“Call an ambulance! He passed out!”

Crying, I pulled Timothy into my arms.

Please wake up…

*

STEFFANO DAVIDSON

“WHO ARE YOU?! LET ME OUT OF HERE!”

“Boss?”

I smirked as I watched the woman thrashing inside the room I had prepared for her.

I finished my glass of liquor and glanced at Sigmund. “Have you talked to Marchessa?”

“Yes, boss. He’s on his way.”

“Good. Bring the contract here,” I said with a playful smile, turning my attention back to the woman who was now crying inside the white room.

The silence. The emptiness.

I bet it’s killing her.

But I don’t pity her. She deserves it for being a demonic woman.

She killed an innocent child, after all.

“Davidson!”

When I heard the voice I’d been waiting for, I pressed the remote so Marchessa wouldn’t see the woman he loved—yet.

I stood and faced him as he stormed in, immediately pointing a gun at me. His eyes were red with fury.

I merely laughed and gestured for my men to lower the guns they had aimed at him.

“Are you sure you can pull the trigger, Marchessa?” I said, pressing the remote again.

The screen lit up, revealing his mistress.

“Damn you! Let Caila go!” he shouted, fear flickering in his eyes.

“Boss, the contract is here,” Sigmund said, appearing with the documents—the key to the partnership I wanted with the Ynares.

“I’m easy to negotiate with, Marchessa. Just sign the goddamn papers and we’re done.”

His jaw tightened as he snatched the contract from Sigmund and threw it back after reading it.

“You’re cunning! Do you think doing this will make me sign? Eighty million for that property? You offered one hundred before—”

“But you declined it,” I cut him off and returned to my seat.

I pressed another button on the remote.

A smile spread across my lips as smoke began filling the white room.

“That’s why I’m offering you a different price.”

“What kind of lunatic—what’s happening?!”

“Help! Help! Oh my God! Whoever you are, please let me out! I don’t want to die! Help me!”

“What are you doing, Davidson?! What is that smoke?!”

“It will only take two minutes before she loses consciousness from inhaling that smoke. Then bam—she’s dead. So, are you signing or not?”

“You’re a demon!”

He lunged at me, but Sigmund pressed a gun against his head.

“Clock’s ticking, Marchessa,” I said, pointing at the timer on the wall.

Sweat beaded across his forehead. After a tense moment, he held out his hand.

Sigmund handed him the contract. He hesitated before finally signing.

I pressed the remote again, signaling my men to pull his mistress out.

“You know I can contest this contract—”

“Really? What if I send this to your wife?”

His face drained of color when a live recording of him and his mistress appeared on the screen.

“H-how—”

I smirked as the woman ran to him, clinging to him—only to freeze when she saw the video playing.

I turned it off and grinned at them.

“Next time, know who you’re dealing with, Marchessa. I’m a good friend—but a terrible enemy.”

He glared at me. “I gave you what you wanted. Leave me and my family alone!”

“Family? Does your mistress count as family now? Poor Helga,” I clicked my tongue, referring to his wife, who was still grieving the death of their only child.

“Benedict, please! Get me out of here! This place is terrifying!”

“Let me give you a piece of advice, Marchessa. Don’t trust too much. It can kill you.”

As they were about to leave, another sound echoed through the room.

Not their moans this time—

But the cry of a child.

“Aunt C-Caila… h-help me…”

“What the f*ck? Herlene? What does she have to do with my child’s death, Caila?!”

I smirked and walked away. I didn’t need to see what happened next.

That’s what you get for betraying your family, Marchessa.

Mon approached me with an envelope. I took it and shook my head at the photos inside.

“Poor Rebecca…”

“Boss, here’s the video.”

I clicked my tongue as I watched the footage of two people having sex.

Bastard.

You even had her name tattooed on your back—and yet you still cheated?

Grinding my teeth, I threw the phone Mon had handed me and stomped on it until the sound finally stopped.

“What’s the plan, boss? Their wedding is in two weeks. Should we send it now?”

I shook my head. “Send it before the wedding day. That’ll be more entertaining, don’t you think?”

“Boss, there’s something else. The woman in the video…”

I grimaced at what Mon said next.

Mother and daughter?

Should I bring him to the white room?

Nah.

That wouldn’t be fun.

I smirked. “Sigmund, bring me some heaven. I have someone to indulge.”

“You personally, boss?”

I didn’t answer. I just laughed and accepted the small box containing the drug that would keep him asleep...for a while.