New Problem

New Problem


Georgina angrily pushed the glass center table down and it shattered on the floor making Catalina flinch, the sound of breaking glass echoing through the living room like gunshots. Crystal fragments scattered across the expensive marble flooring, glittering like fallen stars under the chandelier's light, each piece reflecting her shattered plans back at her.

"Nooooo," she screamed, her voice raw with rage and desperation, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings and expensive artwork that lined the walls. "How can this be possible," she screamed again, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms until they left crescent-shaped marks.

Catalina slumped down on the couch, her legs giving out beneath her as the full weight of their situation crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Her face was pale, drained of all color, and her hands were trembling as she gripped the leather armrest for support.

"How did he get that video, how, all my efforts, my plans and everything it's all ruined," Georgina screamed, pacing back and forth across the room like a caged animal. Her heels crunched on the broken glass, but she didn't seem to notice or care. Years of careful planning, manipulation, and scheming had just crumbled to dust in the span of a few minutes.

"Mother what are we going to do now," Catalina asked as she ran her hand through her hair, her fingers getting tangled in the strands as panic set in. Her voice was small, frightened, like a child lost in the dark asking for guidance from the one person who was supposed to have all the answers.

Georgina stared into space, her eyes unfocused and distant as her mind raced through possibilities, trying to find some way to salvage this disaster. "The plan was flawless, how did he find that video," she muttered, her voice barely audible, talking more to herself than to her daughter.

"Mother say something than spacing out, we need to think, this is all your fault, you're the reason why she got in contact with Jamal so you must have a way out of it," Catalina screamed, her composure finally breaking completely. Tears of frustration and fear were streaming down her cheeks, and her voice cracked with the strain of holding back her hysteria.

"Don't shout at me Catalina, there's nothing we can do," Georgina snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. She whirled around to face her daughter, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and defeat that made her look almost unhinged.

"The plan is ruined, don't you understand the meaning of that video Jamal is holding, once it gets out to the public we're doomed," she continued, her voice rising with each word. The reality of their situation was sinking in like poison through her veins.

"Don't you know who we're talking about, it's Jamal Deveraux, it won't take him a second before he brings down everything I've worked hard to build and I can never allow that to happen. So for now we lay low," she said, her voice becoming more controlled as her survival instincts kicked in, overriding her emotional breakdown.

"But mother..." Catalina started, desperation clear in her voice as she searched for any alternative, any hope that they weren't completely defeated.

"You do as I say Catalina we can't take anymore risk," Georgina cut her off sharply, her tone brooking no argument. Her mind was already shifting into damage control mode, calculating their next moves like a chess player who'd just lost her queen but wasn't ready to concede the game.

"For now, we lay low, until they think everything is settled and lose guard then after that we strike," Georgina snapped and without waiting for any response from Catalina she walked away, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she stepped over the broken glass, leaving her daughter alone with the wreckage of their dreams.

\---

JAMAL'S MANSION

Jamal and Queenie entered the house, the familiar warmth and luxury of the mansion wrapping around them like a protective cocoon after the tension and hostility they'd just left behind. The contrast between the two homes couldn't have been more stark - here everything felt safe, peaceful, like a true sanctuary.

"Master you have a visitor," Linda said walking up to them, her expression slightly worried as she approached. She'd been working for the Deveraux family long enough to know when situations were delicate, and there was something in her demeanor that suggested this visit wasn't entirely welcome.

"I'm not expecting any visitor, who would come without an invitation," Jamal muttered, his brow furrowing with annoyance and confusion. After the confrontation at the Vale mansion, the last thing he wanted was to deal with unexpected guests and whatever drama they might bring.

Before Linda could say anything a voice cut through her response, clear and authoritative, with the kind of confidence that came from years of being accustomed to getting one's way.

"Does that also apply to me," a woman in her late thirties asked walking up to them, her posture straight and dignified, her expensive clothing and jewelry marking her as someone of considerable wealth and status. Her resemblance to Jamal was unmistakable - the same strong jawline, the same piercing eyes, the same commanding presence that filled a room.

Jamal looked at her before he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he recognized the inevitability of this confrontation. He'd been dreading this moment since the news of his marriage had gone public, knowing that his mother wouldn't let it slide without a face-to-face discussion.

"Mother what are you doing here," he asked, his tone resigned rather than surprised. He'd learned long ago that Sasha Deveraux never did anything without a purpose, and her unexpected arrival meant she had something important to say.

Queenie stared between them, sensing the tension crackling in the air like electricity before a storm. She could feel the weight of the older woman's gaze on her, evaluating, judging, finding her lacking before they'd even been properly introduced.

Sasha chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. "Since the mountain cannot come to me I decided to come to the mountain," she said, her voice carrying the kind of authority that came from being used to having her wishes obeyed without question.

"You should have called me first," Jamal said, his voice carrying a hint of warning that his mother chose to ignore completely.

"Did you also inform me before you went ahead and released news I don't want to believe on social media," Sasha asked, her voice sharp with accusation and disappointment. Her eyes never left his face, searching for some sign of the son she thought she knew.

"You should believe it mother it's true. I'm married," Jamal said, his voice steady and unwavering despite the storm he could see brewing in his mother's eyes.

"How dare you Jamal, what do you take me for, do you even view me as your mother, how could you get married without telling me," she snapped, her composure finally cracking as the full weight of her hurt and anger came pouring out. Her voice echoed through the foyer, filled with the pain of a mother who felt betrayed by her own son.

"What matters now is that I'm married already so accept it that way," Jamal replied nonchalantly, his tone deliberately casual in a way that he knew would infuriate her further. He crossed his arms over his chest, settling into a defensive posture that spoke of old battles and familiar arguments.

"Jamal what the hell is wrong with you, don't you think I deserve an explanation from you as your mother," she snapped, her voice rising to match his stubbornness with her own fierce determination to get answers.

"I have no explanation to offer you mother," Jamal said, his voice final and absolute, like a door slamming shut on any further discussion.

Sasha nodded slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line as she absorbed his words and all their implications. "Then so be it because I'll never accept her as my daughter-in-law," she declared, her voice cold as winter morning, each word carefully chosen to inflict maximum damage.