It all made sense now. The memories, the unanswered questions, the closed doors—all the pieces fit together in a way I never wanted to imagine.
I remembered the night my parents died as if it were etched into my bones. The police had called it a tragic accident, a closed case before I even had time to grieve. I had begged for an investigation, pleaded for someone to look deeper, but every door slammed shut.
Grandpa Mateo had been there for me, always. He would hold my trembling hands and whisper, “Let it go, Beatrice. Some things are better left in the past.”
I had never questioned him. How could I? He had been part of our family for as long as I could remember, always saying I was meant for Jaxon, that our families were destined to unite.
But now—after what I overheard—I saw it all for what it was. Not fate, not destiny. Just manipulation, secrets, and lies.
I needed answers. I needed proof. But in this city, Mateo’s influence was everywhere. The police, the press, even the courts—he owned them all. If I wanted to expose the truth, I needed help from someone outside his reach. Someone with power. Someone with a grudge.
My thoughts spiraled, racing ahead of me, until I was snapped back to reality by the sound of the door opening. Jaxon and Hannah stepped inside, faces painted with concern so perfect it could win awards.
Jaxon’s eyes flickered with a cold calculation, while Hannah’s lips trembled in a performance of worry.
“Beatrice, are you alright?” Hannah asked, her voice sweet and sharp at the edges.
Jaxon stepped closer, his hand hovering near my shoulder. “You look pale. What’s wrong?”
I forced a weak smile, masking the storm inside me. “It’s nothing. I’m just… not feeling well. Probably just exhausted. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Jaxon’s gaze lingered on me, searching for cracks in my composure. “Well, you need to rest. Take a week off, or more, if you need it. Actually, why don’t you give us the formula for the vaccine? Hannah and I can continue the work while you recover. We need to finish by next week or the Blackwell Corporation will beat us. You know how important this is.”
His words hit me like ice water. Blackwell. The name sent a jolt through me. The head of Blackwell was Lorenzo. Jaxon despised him, called him a vulture, a thief. But Lorenzo was also the man who, years ago, offered me a way out—a chance to choose him instead of Jaxon.
I never took it, never even considered it. But now, with my world crumbling around me, maybe Lorenzo was exactly what I needed. Someone outside Mateo’s reach. Someone with a reason to take Jaxon down.
I steadied my voice. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I can go back to work by tomorrow.”
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Alright. If you’re sure. Hannah and I have some business to attend to tonight, so we’ll head out. You rest.”
I nodded, watching them leave, the facade of concern slipping away as soon as the door closed behind them. I waited until the silence settled, then called for my trusted butler, Samuel. He had been with my family for years, loyal beyond measure. If anyone could help me, it was him.
“Samuel,” I whispered, urgency in my voice. “Follow them. Discreetly. I need to know where they go and what they do. Record everything.”
He bowed, understanding without question, and disappeared into the night.
Hours crawled by, each minute heavier than the last. When Samuel returned, he handed me a phone with trembling fingers. Images flickered on the screen—Jaxon and Hannah, arm in arm, entering a hotel.
The next video was worse: grainy footage of them together, lost in each other, no secrets left between them. My heart ached, but my resolve hardened. I would not be their victim anymore.
I started gathering everything—photos, videos, documents. Every lie, every betrayal, every piece of evidence. I called my lawyer, voice steady despite the tremor in my hands.
“I want a divorce,” I said, the words tasting like freedom. “As soon as possible. I’ll be discharged from the hospital tomorrow. Set up the papers.”
He agreed, promising discretion. I knew Jaxon would fight, would try to twist the story, but I had proof now. And I had a plan.
The next morning, I discharged myself, dressing carefully, masking the exhaustion with determination. I drove straight to Lorenzo’s office, heart pounding with every step.
He greeted me with a sly smile, eyes sharp, always calculating. “Beatrice. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I met his gaze, refusing to flinch. “Do you still want to marry me?”
His eyebrows lifted, surprise flickering across his face. “Are you serious? You’re still married to Jaxon.”
“I’m divorcing him,” I said, my voice shaking but determined. “I’ve learned he’s been killing my children. He was just using me to get my family’s company. I have proof to bring him down. So, how about you help me?”
Lorenzo’s eyes darkened, a mix of anger and admiration flashing across his face. “If that’s what you want, Beatrice, I’ll help you. See you in two days. Let’s have our wedding.”
I nodded, relief and resolve mingling in my chest. I turned to leave, feeling the first real hope I’d had in years.
When I arrived home, the house was filled with the warm, inviting aroma of dinner. I paused in the doorway, my heart thudding as I saw Jaxon and Hannah in the kitchen, laughter spilling between them.
Jaxon was gently feeding Hannah a bite of something from a spoon, their intimacy on full display.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to sound casual. “What’s happening here?”
Hannah turned to me with a bright, practiced smile. “Oh, he’s letting me taste the food we made for you. Come here, Beatrice… let’s eat, we prepared this for you.”
“I’m actually full,” I said softly, hoping to avoid a scene.
Jaxon’s voice cut through. “Come on, babe, are you really going to do that? Hannah did this for you. Don’t tell me you’re mad at her again for no reason...”
"Jaxon, don't be mad at my best friend. She's just moody at times," Hannah said.
I forced a smile, not wanting to fight, not tonight. I sat down at the table, picking up my fork as Hannah beamed at me, her eyes glittering with something I couldn’t quite name.
The first bite tasted fine, but as I swallowed, a wave of nausea rolled over me. I tried to ignore it, pushing through another mouthful, but my stomach twisted violently.
I dropped my fork, clutching my abdomen as the room spun.
“Beatrice?” Hannah’s voice was syrupy sweet, but I could hear the edge beneath it.
I tried to speak, but bile rose in my throat. I stumbled from the table, rushing to the sink, but it was too late. I vomited, my body wracked with pain. The edges of my vision blurred, darkness creeping in.
Jaxon was suddenly at my side, his hand on my back, concern painted across his face. “Are you alright? Beatrice, what’s wrong?”
But I couldn’t answer. My knees buckled, and the world went black as I fainted, the last thing I heard was Hannah’s voice, low and urgent—
“She’s not supposed to react this fast… but good thing, the baby will die again.”
