Freya quickly composed herself, her heart still racing from the storm of emotions crashing inside her chest. She looked at her father, her brows furrowed in disbelief.
"I can’t believe this, Dad," she said, her voice low but charged with emotion. "Did you really call all the way here because you heard I was going out with Trevor Baliante?"
Mr. Stanford didn’t flinch. He t her gaze directly and gave a firm nod of affirmation.
"That is exactly why I called you here," he said without hesitation.
Freya let out an incredulous laugh, shaking her head. "You could’ve just asked over the phone, and I would’ve told you the truth. Instead, you scared —made it sound like sothing serious had happened."
"This is serious, Freya," her father said calmly, though the intensity in his voice was unmistakable. "There’s nothing more important to your mother and than your safety and well-being."
"I am fine, Dad," she argued. "You once told you wouldn’t interfere in my choice of a life partner. But right now, you’re looking at like you’re ready to shut the door on anyone I choose."
Mr. Stanford leaned forward, his expression now hardening with concern and what looked like disappointnt.
"So, it’s true then? You are seeing Mr. Baliante?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
Freya exhaled slowly, forcing herself to remain calm. "There’s nothing serious going on between us yet. I only went out on one date with him. That’s it," she replied truthfully, holding his gaze.
Her father let out a heavy sigh, as if he had been hoping for a different answer.
"Listen, Freya," he said, sitting back and folding his hands together. "I know I promised not to interfere in your love life—and I ant every word of that. You’re an adult, and I respect your choices. You’re free to bring anyone you love ho, and I’ll do my best to accept them. But the only exception is Mr. Baliante and everyone associated with him."
Freya blinked, stunned by the seriousness in his tone.
"But why?" she asked, a knot forming in her stomach. "Are you saying that if I do fall for him, you won’t give us your blessing?"
Her father didn’t respond imdiately. He looked away for a mont, as though weighing his words carefully.
"You don’t like him, Freya. Not yet. And I’m begging you, please don’t let it get to that point," he said. "Mr. Baliante is not good for you. I want you to be happy, and I’m certain you won’t find that with him."
Freya stared at him, trying to stay calm.
"All those things I told you about him," her father continued, "they’re not just rumors or scare tactics. The man has blood on his hands, Freya. And just recently, I received reliable information that his family is involved in dark, diabolic practices."
"Did that ’reliable’ information co from Gary?" Freya asked sharply, her voice now laced with frustration.
Her father’s eyes narrowed. "No. It did not co from Gary. And frankly, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but I think you should give him another chance. He’s a decent young man."
Freya let out a bitter laugh and crossed her arms.
" and Gary? We’re over, Dad. Done. And we’re never getting back together," she said, her voice flat but final.
There was silence between them for a few monts. The room felt heavier now, thick with unspoken tension and hurt.
Mr. Stanford sighed again, rubbing his temple like he was already exhausted by the conversation. "I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Freya," he said, his voice softer this ti. "You’re my daughter. My only daughter. And I know what kind of man Baliante is. If I have to step in to protect you, I will."
Freya looked away, her lips trembling slightly.
***
Miles away, Tessy just finished a late breakfast, and was sipping on a warm mug of tea when she heard her phone buzz, breaking the quiet.
She glanced at it absently, expecting a text from Freya or maybe an update from work. Instead, what she saw made her blood run cold.
It was from a private number.
"Don’t watch the next video with your husband around. For your own safety."
Her brows furrowed. A chill slid down her spine. She swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the screen.
A second ssage popped up before she could finish processing the first. It was a video file.
A lump rose in her throat. Her instincts scread at her not to press play. But curiosity, dread, and the gut-deep sense that sothing was about to go wrong overrode her hesitation.
She tapped the screen.
The video started with a distorted voice. "You deserve to know the truth. The man you sleep beside every night is not who you think he is. Your mother didn’t die from a fire as they claid, Tessy. She was murdered. And your husband did it."
Tessy recoiled. "No," she whispered. "No, this is a mistake."
The video cut to what looked like footage taken inside Roman’s private ho office. The cara was shaky, likely held in soone’s hand. She wasn’t sure. Her heart pounded.
She recognized the wallpaper, the antique bookshelf, and the painting above the desk. And seated on the owner’s side of the desk, was Roman.
Tessy couldn’t see her mother’s face, but she would know that voice anywhere.
""What do you think you’re doing? Let go." her mother demanded. "I already said it’s a letter. What’s this harassnt for?"
Williams’ voice answered, clipped and cold. "Tell why I shouldn’t snap your neck and send you to the place where you so seek to be?"
Roman’s face twisted in rage. Without warning, his hand shot out, wrapping around her mother’s throat. Tessy gasped, a strangled cry escaping her lips.
"Roman!" she whispered, frozen in place.
"Boss, please. Don’t kill her. She is Madam’s mother." Tessy heard Trevor’s voice.
"No! Go ahead and kill , you monster," Her mother’s voice followed.
The scene changed and they were suddenly in a place where Tessy didn’t recognize.
She heard her mother’s voice again. "Whether you kill or not, you will never have Tessy. She will soon find out the monster you are and she will walk away from your life."
The footage showed Williams stepping forward, slapping her mother hard across the face. The cara shook, then the screen went black.
Tessy couldn’t breathe. Her hands trembled violently. The mug of tea slipped from her grasp and shattered against the floor, but she didn’t even flinch.
She couldn’t believe it, yet the pain was as real as day in her heart. How could he? Why her mother? How could she have been living and sleeping with her mother’s murderer?
The room spun. Her body beca numb, her mind racing through mories. Every warm mont with Roman now felt like a lie, a cruel joke. Tears stread freely down her cheeks.
"Tessy?"
Roman’s voice echoed distantly from the hallway.
Unsure what to do at that mont, she quickly locked her phone and wiped her cheeks, trying to collect herself, but there was no hiding the devastation in her eyes.
Roman entered, a small frown on his face. "What happened? Why is the mug broken?"
She didn’t answer.
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Tessy, are you alright?"
Her lips quivered. She stood slowly, backing away from him like he was fire and she was soaked in gasoline.
"Don’t," she said. Her voice was hoarse. "Don’t co any closer."
Roman froze, confusion clouding his features. "What are you talking about?"
She looked at him, really looked. The sa eyes that had once looked at her with tenderness now seed foreign. Monstrous.
"Is it true?" she asked.
He tilted his head. "Is what true?"
She reached for her phone, and held it up.
"This video. Is it true?"
Roman went still as he watched, recalling every mont, but noting how everything was edited to paint him as the villain.
Silence stretched between them. A silence so loud it rang in her ears.
"Tessy," he began.
"No!" she shouted. "Answer ! Did you kill my mother?"
Her voice attracted the other mbers of the house, who watched from afar, except for Daniel, who stood a little closer.
Roman exhaled slowly. "It’s not what you think."
"Don’t say that! Don’t tell it’s not what I think. I’m not thinking it. I saw it. I have evidence."
He looked down, jaw clenched.
"I didn’t kill her. I would never do that to you."
Tessy’s scream ripped through the room. "Lies, Roman! Stop telling lies. How could you? I buried her! And you... you let cry on your chest. You kissed my forehead at the funeral!"
He took a step forward, and she stepped back. "Please, Tessy. There is an explanation to that video," he tried to save the situation, conflicted about what to do at that very mont.
He hadn’t expected her to find out like this. He had wanted her to recover a little, so she would be able to handle it when he would spill everything to her,
Her chest heaved as the little trust she had developed for him shattered like glass.
"How did I ever think anything good can co out of soone like you?" she whispered the question, her expression pained.
Roman looked like a bullet hit him straight to the heart when he heard that question. His heart broke a thousand tis.
After the words left her mouth, Tessy turned and ran upstairs, ignoring his calls. In her room, she locked the door, her body collapsing to the floor. She sobbed until there were no tears left.
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