Catherine froze in her tracks.
She turned around to see Nina standing behind her, a smug expression on her face.
“Miss Flores, I wonder... did you enjoy the little performance just now? Your husband and son both trust me completely. That must’ve stung, didn’t it?”
She leaned in, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.
“It was actually my idea to move in. I just acted a little spoiled with Leandro, and told him my mother’s death anniversary was coming up and how scared I was to be alone in the villa, and he couldn’t bear to refuse me. So he agreed to let me stay here for a while.”
Each word was like a dagger, and Catherine trembled from head to toe.
Smack!
A loud, crisp slap echoed through the hallway.
Nina’s cheek instantly turned red and swollen.
“That’s enough! Enough! Enough!”
Catherine’s eyes were bloodshot. Her body swayed before she collapsed to the floor, sharp pain shooting up from her ankle.
Clutching her ears, she fled into the room and slammed the door behind her.
Behind her, Nina gently touched her stinging cheek, fury darkening her eyes.
"Just you wait Catherine," she whispered through gritted teeth.
—
That night, Catherine curled up in bed, a storm of emotions crashing through her chest—rage, grief, helplessness.
She couldn’t sleep. After tossing and turning, she finally got out of bed and went downstairs to get some water.
The villa was eerily quiet, almost too quiet. A strange unease began to swell in her chest.
The door to the backyard was ajar.
Something urged her forward—an instinct she couldn’t explain.
And then she heard it. The unmistakable sound of water sloshing, mixed with soft moans and wind.
Her whole body froze. It was as if her blood had started to run backward.
Through the crack in the door, she could clearly see two figures locked in a passionate kiss.
She didn’t know how long it lasted, but eventually, Leandro shoved Nina away. His eyes were still burning with lust, but his face was gloomy.
“Are you insane? This is the Kennedy residence. Catherine is still here. Didn’t I tell you—my bottom line is to keep this away from her? Have I spoiled you so much lately that you think you can do whatever you want? First, you insist on staying here, and now you’re seducing me here?”
But Nina didn’t answer.
Instead, she dropped to her knees and leaned in, rubbing her face against him with unrelenting determination.
Leandro’s low grunt of pleasure only encouraged her further. She let out soft, coquettish gasps as she continued.
His breathing grew heavier, voice laced with strained desire.
“You little vixen...”
Nina just smiled, unbothered.
“Do you like it, Leandro? I wore this just for you.”
Her answer was met with his ragged breath—his restraint vanishing.
“Tighten your legs. I’m going to give you what you want.”
The next moment, the two of them were entangled, skin against skin, consumed by lust and desire.
Catherine couldn't take it any longer.
She bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood, and turned to leave—only to collide with someone at the corner.
It was Nash, rubbing his sleepy eyes, looking groggy and confused.
His pupils shrank. His gaze darted around nervously, trying to avoid her eyes.
Panicked, he grabbed her wrist, his voice soft and pleading.
“Mommy, I’m so sleepy... can you read me a bedtime story?”
He clung tightly to her hand and pulled her away, only releasing her when they reached the living room.
'Thank God. Mommy didn’t see anything.' He thought.
But Catherine felt like her heart was being sliced open, one cut at a time.
Her beloved husband had his mistress hidden away. And now even her precious son was helping cover for them.
Perfect. Just perfect!
She bit her lip harder, the taste of blood spreading in her mouth.
Nash dragged her back to the bedroom, pulled a book at random from the bookshelf, and asked her to read to him.
As she opened it, a folded drawing slipped out and landed on the floor.
Her eyes caught on it instantly.
It was Nash's school art assignment—a family portrait.
But in the picture... were Leandro, Nash, and Nina.
No mother.
Just the three of them.
Catherine stood there frozen, her hand trembling as she reached for the paper.
But Nash was faster. He snatched it away before she could touch it.
A sharp pain pierced her heart.
She forced herself to smile, but her voice shook despite her best efforts.
“Nash... who did you draw in that picture?”
