Chapter 102: Your Loneliness Shouldn't Be Forever
The shrill ring of the phone sliced through the stillness of Sarah's living room. Her hands trembled as she reached for the receiver, her breath catching the moment she saw Cylene's name boldly flashing across it. Her chest tightened-nothing good ever came from that mother-and-daughter duo entangled in her and her son's life.
She pressed the receiver to her ear, and a familiar voice slipped in, smooth but dripping venom.
"Sarah..." Cylene's whisper was soft, yet sharp enough to cut. "You think your little peace will last? I can end it with a word. Don't test me."
Sarah's throat went dry. She gripped the phone tighter, as though the pressure could shield her from the sting of those words.
"W-what do you want from me?" Her voice cracked, betraying the fear rising inside her.
Cylene's chuckle came low, cruel, the sound of a predator circling prey. "What I want? Simple. Stay quiet. Stay out of what doesn't concern you. And warn your son-tell him never to put his filthy hands on my daughter again. Because if he does... Broe won't have a mother to return to."
Then the line went dead.
Sarah's heart hammered so fiercely she thought it might burst. Her fingers shook until the receiver nearly slipped from her grasp. The shadows in the room seemed to twist and stretch, curling like black claws reaching for her.
She stumbled back onto the couch, clutching her chest, her breath ragged. Cylene's voice wasn't just a threat-it was a vow. Sarah had heard of her ruthlessness, and now it was aimed at her.
Her hands trembled as she fumbled for her phone again. This time, there was no hesitation. She dialed the only number she could think of-her son's.
"Broe..." she whispered when he answered, her voice breaking. "Please, come. I-I need you. Now."
For a moment, silence lingered on the other end, heavy with the weight of his understanding. Then his voice came, firm and steady.
"Stay where you are, Mother. I'm on my way."
Sarah pressed the phone against her chest, tears threatening to spill. The house suddenly felt colder, lonelier, as though the walls themselves had shifted against her. Yet in the middle of that fear, knowing Broe was coming gave her something fragile to hold onto-a thread of hope.
But Cylene's words echoed in her mind, circling and refusing to fade.
~~~~~
The evening sun streamed through the curtains, pouring a soft golden glow across the living room. Beauty sat cross-legged on the couch, her laughter spilling out as she flipped through a wedding catalog. Her finger stopped on a white, off-shoulder gown with delicate lace, and her eyes lit up.
"Roy, look at this one," she said, excitement dancing in her voice. "Doesn't it look perfect for me?"
Roy, lounging against the armrest with a half-empty cup of coffee in hand, let a slow smile spread across his face. "Perfect? That dress would hide its face next to you. You'll outshine it, Beauty."
Her cheeks warmed as she rolled her eyes. "You're impossible. Complimenting me doesn't help me pick a dress."
Roy leaned closer, plucked the magazine from her hands, and tossed it onto the table. "Forget the dress. What matters is you walking down that aisle toward me-with everyone watching-knowing you're mine forever. You, me, and our beautiful little one." His hand brushed over her belly, his eyes softening as he smiled.
Beauty's heart thudded. She squeezed his hand, her forehead resting against his as silence wrapped around them like a promise.
Then she broke it with a playful smirk. "Fine. But if I'm stuck with you forever, you'll have to put up with my color choices. I'm thinking pink and gold for the reception."
Roy chuckled low. "Pink and gold? Sounds like a royal palace. Guess I'll just have to be your king."
Beauty laughed, swatting his shoulder. "Cheesy man."
"Your cheesy man," he whispered, pulling her into his arms until she melted against him.
The room filled with laughter, gentle teasing, and the quiet certainty of two hearts not just planning a wedding-but a lifetime together.
~~~~
Earlier That Day...
Beauty pushed the door open, her steps light but steady, though her mind was still reeling from the chaos at Flora's place. The living room was dimly lit, Roy sprawled on the couch, remote in hand, flipping absently through channels. His face brightened the moment he saw her.
"You're finally home," he said, sitting up. "You look... different. What happened?"
Beauty set her bag down and walked toward him slowly, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Different, huh? What do you mean?"
Roy narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering with curiosity. "Don't play with me. Something's up-I can see it in your face."
She sat beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. "Well... I do have something to tell you."
Roy turned fully to face her, searching her eyes as though he could read the truth before she spoke. "What is it? Don't keep me hanging, Beauty."
She chuckled softly, dragging out the suspense, her fingers toying with the hem of her dress. "I'll give you a hint. It's something that's going to change both our lives."
His heartbeat quickened, though he masked it with a crooked smile. "Don't tell me you bought another puppy. I'm still recovering from the last one."
She giggled, shaking her head. "No... not a puppy."
"Then what?" His voice was tighter now, edged with nerves and a hope he didn't dare voice.
Her smile deepened as she leaned in and whispered, "We're having a baby, Roy."
The words struck him like a wave. For a second, he just froze, staring at her, lips parted but speechless. Then slowly, the shock gave way to raw joy, his eyes glistening. "A... a baby? You mean... we're going to be parents?"
"Yes," she breathed, sliding a hand protectively over her belly.
Roy pulled her into his arms so tightly she gasped. "God, Beauty... you don't know how happy you've made me."
When he finally eased his hold, she drew a deep breath, her expression shifting, serious now. "But that's not all. Something happened at Flora's place today. Something dangerous."
Roy's smile vanished. "What do you mean?"
Beauty's voice lowered, carrying the weight of the memory. "Flora and I... we were almost poisoned. By a new maid she just hired. The foolish girl thought she could get away with it. If the Doctor hadn't walked in at the right moment..." Her words broke, trembling at the edges.
Roy's joy burned into rage. His fists clenched, jaw tight. "What? Poisoned? Beauty, are you serious right now?"
She nodded gravely, squeezing his hand. "I'm fine, Flora is fine... but it was close. Too close."
Roy shot to his feet, pacing the room like a storm brewing. "Whoever sent that maid-whoever dared put you in danger, especially now-" he raked a hand through his hair, the other curling into a fist, "they'll regret it."
Beauty rose quietly, laying her hand on his arm. "I knew you'd react like this. But for now... hold on to the good news. Our baby. Our future."
Roy pulled her close again, pressing his forehead to hers. His anger still simmered beneath the surface, but in that moment, his joy and protectiveness wrapped tighter around her than anything else.
~~~~
Scene – The Underground Meeting
The underground chamber was dim, shadows clinging to the walls like silent witnesses. Scott had not yet returned home, and Roy was not present at the Underground.
After speaking and playing with Beauty, she had dozed off. Roy quietly retreated to his study, switched on his system, and connected to the underground meeting.
The screen flickered to life, faces appearing one after another. For a moment, there was silence. Then Vincent's voice broke through, sharp against the still air.
"Everyone, I am not happy with you all," he said, his small yet oddly thick voice echoing through the speakers.
"What?" a voice snapped back almost immediately, dripping with irritation.
Maxson leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "What's wrong now? Did something happen? Or did you and your brother have a fight again?"
Vincent shifted uneasily, his tone faltering. "No, not that. But... you all know I was the first person to like Aria-"
At that name, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Scott's head lifted, slow and deliberate, his stormy eyes fixing on Vincent with a look that could freeze blood. Maxson also went still, his gaze sharpening, unreadable, but dangerous in its own way.
The weight of Scott's silence pressed heavily over the room. Vincent's voice died in his throat. His lips clamped shut, his face paling as if the air itself had been stolen from him.
Then another voice-calm, cool, deceptively soft-cut through the suffocating quiet.
It was Gad. His smile carried no warmth, only hidden menace.
"You shouldn't have said that yet, Vincent," he murmured. "Why would you even think of competing with Duncan? Since Aria chose Duncan, there's nothing we can do."
Maxson leaned back, smirking faintly, as though savoring the tension. "Yeah, exactly. Nothing to be done. And let's be clear..." His smirk widened into something sharper. "...Aria isn't some product you can fight over. Do you understand that?"
The words dripped like poison, settling into the silence.
Finally, Scott's voice broke through-cold, low, and cutting.
"I think that's clear enough, Vincent."
He leaned forward, his sharp-edged gaze slicing across the screen, daring Vincent to breathe wrong.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
A mindcare voice slipped through the speakers, calm yet commanding.
"Vincent, you have to leave Aria for my brother. Why would you compete with him?" It was Michael.
Vincent froze, his lips parting.
Then came Roy's laugh-deep, rolling, almost mischievous. It shattered the tension like glass breaking on marble.
"Okay, okay, okay. It's alright. Everybody is okay." He spread his hands, as if soothing the air itself. "Vincent, you are not wrong to express your feelings, but we all know Aria is Duncan's. And I believe you are going to meet that lucky girl of yours soon."
The encouragement lingered, softening the sharpness in the room. For the first time that day, Vincent's shoulders loosened, though his eyes still burned with unspoken things.
Maxson tilted his head, his voice carrying a sly edge.
"I also agree with you. The same way I met my lucky princess... Joan."
His words hung in the room like a declaration, subtle but undeniable. A ripple of recognition moved across the table-one that Vincent caught, his jaw tightening.
Scott leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, though his eyes flickered with both warning and calculation. But behind it, it was the aura of bad news , still weighing on him-the very message Roy had sent before the meeting even began.
The silence broke when the true agenda surfaced. The poisoning attempt on Flora and Beauty.
The room shook.
~~~~~
Jann's heels clicked against the polished floor of the underground hall as she hurried back from an errand sent by Scott, a neat stack of documents clutched to her chest. Her mind was already arranging the report she would give Scott, her lips moving soundlessly as though rehearsing the words.
Then-
She collided hard against someone at the corner turn. The papers slipped from her grip, scattering across the floor like a burst of startled birds. Jann dropped to her knees instinctively, reaching for them, breath catching in her throat.
Before she could even raise her head, a voice came-low, cutting, filled with a disdain so sharp it seemed to slice the air.
"Are you blind?"
Her eyes snapped up. Michael stood over her, tall, broad-shouldered, his expression carved from stone. His eyes didn't hold anger so much as indifference, as if she were nothing more than an obstacle in his path.
Jann blinked, stunned. She had expected at least a hand, some basic courtesy. Instead, Michael's lip curled, dismissive.
"You can't even walk straight without making a mess?" he said, his voice thick with contempt. "Pathetic."
He didn't bend, didn't offer so much as a finger toward the scattered sheets. Instead, he stepped deliberately around them, the heel of his boot narrowly missing the edge of a page.
Jann's pulse quickened. Her fingers trembled as she gathered the papers, her mind wrestling with shock and indignation.
What kind of man is this?
But Michael didn't wait for her thoughts. He walked away without a backward glance, his silhouette swallowed by the long, dim corridor. The echo of his footsteps lingered, harsh against the silence, long after he had gone.
Jann exhaled slowly, clutching the bent documents to her chest, her eyes narrowing.
"Strange man," she murmured, more to herself than anyone. "So proud he can't even see straight."
And with that, she steadied herself, rising to her feet and continuing toward the system hacking room-though Michael's presence, sharp and cutting, trailed in her mind like a shadow she couldn't shake.
---
Since Jann had joined Scott's mafia circle, her loyalty had been clear. She took instructions only from Scott himself and carried them out without hesitation. In return, the others-Venom, Hack, Prum, and even the quieter ones-had grown comfortable around her. Venom often teased her like a younger sibling; Hack always had a joke to crack; Prum trusted her with sensitive errands.
But Mikey... Mikey was different.
From the very beginning, he kept his distance, never sparing her more than a passing glance. When the others spoke to her, he walked away. When she tried to start a conversation, he gave short, clipped answers, his face unreadable.
It was as if an invisible wall surrounded him-thick, unyielding, impenetrable.
Jann had once thought it was because he didn't trust her yet, but weeks had passed, and nothing changed. No matter how much she proved her loyalty to Scott, Mikey refused to acknowledge her efforts.
To him, she wasn't an ally. She was just... someone who happened to be there.
And that stung more than she wanted to admit.
Mikey had always been acting like the lonely person he is, and this shouldn't be forever.