Chapter 79: Foes revisting.
The air was thick with tension, like a storm silently brewing in every breath. It seemed as though everyone was under the weight of someone's invisible influence-like the grip of a shadow no one could name.
Arthur sat alone in his living room, hunched forward on a worn-out chair. His boots thudded rhythmically against the floor as he tapped them, deep in thought. His jaw clenched, his eyes hard.
Scott had deceived him. Struck from behind with cunning and precision-just when he thought he was gaining ground.
But this time, he was ready.
He had already instructed his men to be on standby. Arthur knew the game wasn't over. In fact, he was just warming up. He muttered to himself, "How do I hit back?"
His mind raced like wildfire-burning with anger, strategy, and pride. And then, suddenly, a wicked smile stretched across his face.
"Diana Mask," he murmured with a chuckle that grew into a low, menacing laugh.
Just then, Black Eye barged into the room, his entrance as chaotic as always. He was singing something crude under his breath and laughing in that twisted way that made Otto trust him even less than most of his men.
He paused to catch his breath, then bowed slightly.
"Boss," he said, "you called for me?"
Arthur barely turned to look at him. "Do you remember that lady?" he asked coldly.
Black Eye blinked. "Which lady, boss?" he wondered silently, trying to recall.
Arthur's lips curled into a sinister grin. "Diana Mask."
Black Eye's eyebrows rose. He didn't say a word.
Otto leaned forward, voice dropping to a near whisper, "Make sure you reach her tonight. Comfort her. Let her know we're ready."
"Yes, boss," Black Eye replied quickly.
Arthur sat back again. "Boss, that same woman-Diana-she just called. Said she wants to talk to you personally."
"Should I get her on the line now?" Black Eye asked.
"Yes. Right now."
A few minutes later, Arthur's phone buzzed and connected. Diana's voice came through, calm and deliberate.
"It's been years," she said smoothly.
"I've heard of you before, Diana. I wondered where you disappeared to."
Otto smirked, wanting to cut deep. "Oh, I see," he said mockingly. "Still embarrassed that my cousin rejected you, huh?"
But Diana didn't flinch. She chuckled-a slow, dangerous laugh.
"Do you think I still care about that ignorant fool?" she snapped. "Scott? Please."
She paused, then continued, her voice icy.
"I didn't call to talk about him. I called because I know your hatred for him runs deep-and that makes us allies."
Arthur leaned in, his interest piqued.
She continued, "That woman-Flora. That foolish little wife of his-she thinks she can walk into his life and sit pretty like a queen? No. Never. Not on my watch."
Arthur smiled darkly.
Things were finally falling into place.
♡♡♡♡
Flora and Scott had planned to visit the Silver family. They didn't want it to end like the last time-when Grandma gently scolded them for not visiting often enough. This time, they were determined to make it right, to show they truly cared.
In the passenger seat, Flora let out a sudden gasp of joy, her eyes widening.
"What? What is it?" Scott asked with a teasing smile.
"No, no, no," she said, grinning playfully. "If I tell you now, it won't be a surprise anymore. Just wait."
Scott laughed, his voice warm. "Come on, Flora. You know I love you-and I'd do anything for you."
He meant it. He always tried to show her how deep his love ran. He had never loved a woman before her, not truly. But the moment he fell for Flora, it changed everything. And not once did he regret it.
Flora's cheeks flushed softly. She turned to him, her smile gentle. She had never expected someone like him to bring this much joy into her life.
In her past, she had thought she lost everything-hope, peace, even love. Sure, Beauty had been there during the tough times, offering comfort and a shoulder to cry on. But this-this was different. Scott's love was something she had never experienced. It felt safe. It felt real.
As they drove, her mind wandered.
What if she had said no to his proposal back then?
Would she have ever known this kind of love? Would she have missed out on a future like this-this happiness, this warmth?
She smiled quietly to herself.
Scott reached over and gently took her hand in his. His other hand remained steady on the wheel. She looked at him and he met her eyes with a soft smile.
They didn't need to say anything more.
The silence between them was filled with understanding, with gratitude, and with love.
As the car sped down the road, heading toward the Silver family estate, the air between them was light, warm-full of hope.
♡♡♡♡
The prison was silent-dark, damp, and heavy with dread. The kind of silence that pressed against the skin and whispered fears into the bones. The warden had already left the hallway where Royce's cell stood, leaving only the echo of his footsteps behind.
Then, suddenly, a sharp voice broke through the stillness.
"Roy!" a guard called. "Post office room. Now."
Roy stirred slowly from where he sat on the edge of his steel-framed bed. His expression was blank, distant. He followed the guard without speaking, led down the corridor until they reached the room just off the mail office.
"Take this," the guard said gruffly, extending a hand.
Roy hesitated, staring at the sealed envelope being held out to him. It was plain-no name, no return address, no sign of who had sent it. That in itself was strange. Who would think of him now?
His mother-the one woman he trusted above all-had turned her back on him without a second thought. And his sister, his so-called lifeline, had disowned him when things got difficult. He was alone. Forgotten. Or so he believed.
Without a word, he took the envelope and returned to his cell, the soft scuff of his shoes echoing against the concrete floor.
Back inside, he sank to the cold ground, lying flat against it for a moment, feeling its chill soak through his clothes. He stared at the envelope again. No name. No clue. Just silence and sealed mystery.
Finally, he tore it open.
He unfolded the paper slowly, reading line after line. At first, his face remained calm-blank, almost unreadable.
But then... something changed.
His jaw clenched. His grip on the letter tightened.
A slow, burning fury rose behind his eyes. His heart pounded with a rage that had long been sleeping but was now wide awake.
The letter had awakened something in him-something dangerous, something vengeful.
His eyes narrowed. His breathing deepened.
Whatever was written in that letter-it wasn't just a message.
It was a match.
And it had just ignited the fire in Royce.
He sat upright, his body tense, his thoughts sharp and focused. The cold cell no longer felt so heavy.
There was only one thing on his mind now:
Revenge.
Not just for what had been done to him, but for all the betrayals, all the lies, all the abandonment.
Roy wasn't finished.
He was just getting started.
♡♡♡♡
The sun blazed high in the sky, flooding the world with a golden glow, but Presch felt none of its warmth. She sat still, staring blankly out the window, lost in the storm of her own thoughts. The silence in the room was heavy, too heavy-pressing in on her like guilt she couldn't shake.
She had done it. Framed Flora.
And her mother-her own mother-had helped her kill her baby.
The thought alone made her stomach churn.
She brought a trembling hand to her face and closed her eyes. Regret seeped in, slow and poisonous. "Why did I ever trust her?" she whispered to herself. "Why did I think she'd finally act like a mother?"
Presch remembered every word, every lie, every promise that led to her losing her unborn child. Her fingers curled into fists. Her jaw tightened. Her mother had played her-used her pain, manipulated her weakness. And now, here she was, alone.
Even Broe, the one person who had stayed beside her, had told her he'd reached out to her mother. Sent her a message. Told her everything.
And what did she do?
Nothing.
Not a single call. Not a single visit. Not a moment spared for the daughter she had left to bleed on her own.
Presch's eyes stung as tears welled up, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she picked up her phone and stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over her mother's number.
One ring. Two.
Disconnected.
Again, she tried. Over and over. Each time, the line cut off. Switched off. Blocked, maybe.
She could feel the rage start to rise in her chest, mingling with the ache of abandonment and betrayal.
With a loud cry, she threw the phone across the room. It hit the floor hard, bouncing once before landing face down. The echo of its impact rang through the house.
She screamed into the silence, chest heaving with all the emotion she could no longer contain.
She was alone in the house-Broe was out, and Sarah had already gone back home. No one to see her fall apart. No one to stop her from breaking.
And honestly, that was fine.
That was perfect.
Because a mother like hers-cold, absent, selfish-deserved worse.
Presch fell to the floor, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if trying to keep herself from falling apart completely. But her voice, low and cracked, broke the silence once more.
"She's not a mother. She never was."
♡♡♡♡
Evening....
"What? I have a message?" Presch asked, surprised.
The servant nodded and handed her a cream-colored envelope.
"Alright, thank you. You can go," she said with a brief nod, her tone indifferent as she shut the door behind her.
She stood in the hallway, staring at the envelope in her hand. No one ever sent her letters. Not recently. Not after everything. She flipped it over and squinted at the name written on the front: Diana Mask.
Her brows drew together.
"Who the hell is Diana Mask?" she muttered under her breath.
The name didn't ring any bells-not from her past, not from City B, not even from the circle of social vultures she kept track of. Still, curiosity itched at her fingers. She slid her thumb beneath the flap and peeled the envelope open.
At the top of the letter, the first few lines caught her off guard-elegant, cunning, and calculated. There was something deliciously sharp in the tone. Something that matched her own frequency.
She kept reading.
With every line, a slow smile crept across her lips. By the time she reached the final sentence, she was grinning like a child who had just found a secret passage in a game she'd been losing.
"Oh, finally," she whispered, a flicker of amusement lighting up her face. "Finally, someone with the heart of a wolf."
She dropped the letter onto the table and leaned back into the chair, arms crossed and thoughts spinning.
Yes.
She had just met a fool of a fool.
A woman with teeth, claws, and no soul. Just like her.
And maybe-just maybe-that's exactly the kind of ally she needed.