Chapter 58 CHAPTER 58

Chapter 58 CHAPTER 58
Fractures
The morning sun poured across the estate like a spotlight, but inside Ares’s mansion the brightness felt cruel, mocking. His head pounded from the whiskey he had consumed through the night, and his body sagged where he sat in the living room, still in yesterday’s shirt, crumpled and reeking faintly of smoke and despair.
The gavel’s echo from court still reverberated in his ears: Custody awarded to Tessa Monroe. Ten years imprisonment for Chloe. The words circled endlessly, grinding into his mind until they bled into the silence of the house.
That silence broke with the crisp sound of high heels against marble. Lady Bianca entered without knocking, as though the mansion belonged more to her than to him. Dressed in immaculate cream silk and pearls, her expression was calm, purposeful, as if yesterday’s chaos had been a business deal rather than a family tragedy.
“Ares,” she said, her tone clipped but oddly gentle, “you need to stop wallowing. It’s time to move forward.”
Ares didn’t lift his head at first. He just rolled the untouched glass on the coffee table with a finger, watching the amber liquid glint in the light. “Move forward?” he muttered. “With what, Mother? With who?”
She stepped closer, folding her hands neatly. “With your life. You’ve lost a wife who was never suitable for you. You’ve lost children who, frankly, were never yours to begin with. Do you not see this as God’s way of cleaning the slate for you?”
His eyes snapped up, bloodshot and burning. “Don’t,” he growled.
But Lady Bianca pressed on, her voice sharpening with each word. “You need to start divorce proceedings immediately. End this charade with Chloe once and for all. Then marry someone decent, a woman of proper breeding, with a family name that will strengthen ours. And then, finally, you can have your own children. Children who carry our blood. That is what matters.”
The words hit him like knives. He shoved back from the sofa, rising to his feet, towering over her though his body wavered with drunkenness. “How can you be so mean? So heartless? Those kids are my children. My blood or not, I raised them, I carried them, I gave them my name, my home. And Chloe, whatever you think of her, she is my wife. Do you think I’ll just erase them because it’s convenient for you?”
Lady Bianca’s nostrils flared. “Convenient? Ares, open your eyes. That woman is in prison. She is a stain on this family’s reputation. The entire world is laughing. Do you wish to carry that humiliation forever?”
“Yes!” he roared, his voice shaking the room. “If it means standing by her when she has no one else, then yes! I was going to divorce her, Mother. Do you hear me? I was going to. But you…” His voice cracked, rage and grief twisting inside him. “You and your poisonous games. You threw her in jail, you ripped the children from me, and you dare to come here today and tell me to let her go?”
Lady Bianca faltered for the first time, eyes widening at the rawness in his tone.
Ares’s breath came ragged, his chest heaving. “No. I won’t. I’ll rot in hell before I sign those papers now. You made her an enemy, and because of that, I’ll never leave her. Not now. Not ever.”
For a long moment, silence choked the air. Lady Bianca stared at him, lips pressed tightly, the faint tremor in her pearl earrings betraying her anger.
“You are a fool,” she hissed finally. “A fool, and you will regret this.”
But Ares only reached for the whiskey glass again, downed it in one long gulp, and slammed it back on the table. “Maybe. But I’d rather be a fool than your puppet.”
Without another glance at her, he staggered toward the door, his steps unsteady but his decision firm. He grabbed his coat, shrugged it on sloppily, and pushed out into the daylight.
Lady Bianca stood rooted in the living room, her son’s words echoing in her head. I’ll never leave her. For the first time in years, she felt as though the reins she had gripped so tightly were slipping.

Meanwhile, across the city, the atmosphere was no less tense.
Tessa had finally brought the children—Jamal, Kamal, Beauty, and Pretty—into the large new house she and Ayisha shared. The rooms had been decorated with care, bright curtains, soft rugs, toys neatly arranged, beds freshly made. It should have felt like home. It should have been the happy ending she had been fighting for all these years.
But the children did not see it that way.
When she ushered them upstairs, they dragged their feet. Jamal scowled openly, his small jaw set in a way that reminded her painfully of Ares. Kamal folded his arms, muttering something under his breath. Beauty and Pretty clutched each other’s hands tightly, their faces blank, their eyes wary.
“This is your room,” Tessa announced with a smile that faltered when none of them responded. “Look…new beds, new toys. All yours.”
They glanced around but gave her no joy. Jamal sat heavily on the edge of the bed, refusing to meet her eyes. Kamal leaned against the wall, picking at his fingernails. Beauty and Pretty whispered to each other, then turned their faces away.
Frustration bubbled in Tessa’s chest. She had imagined running to embrace them, imagined tears of joy, imagined finally being called Mommy. But instead she faced four walls of silence, their little bodies radiating rejection.
Her voice rose without meaning to. “What is wrong with you children? Don’t you see? I fought for you! I went to court for you! You’re with me now…your real mother, you should be happy!”
Beauty finally spoke, her voice small but sharp. “We want Daddy.”
The words pierced Tessa like a bullet. Her throat constricted. She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but the sting only fueled her anger.
“You’ll get used to me,” she said tightly. “You don’t have a choice.” She spun on her heel and stormed out, her heels hammering the staircase as she descended.
Ayisha was waiting in the kitchen, sipping tea. She didn’t look surprised when Tessa burst in, red faced and fuming.
“They don’t appreciate anything!” Tessa shouted, slamming her hand on the counter. “Do you know what I went through to get them back? And now they sit there looking at me like I’m the enemy!”
Ayisha set down her cup slowly, her eyes cool and measured. “Maybe because you’re acting like one. You fought so hard to win them, Tess, but winning custody isn’t the same as winning their hearts. Did you think you could drag them out of Ares’s arms and they’d just smile and call you mother?”
Tessa’s face twisted. “Don’t lecture me, Ayisha. You don’t know what it feels like to have your children hate you.”
Ayisha leaned back, her expression hardening. “I know what it feels like to lose yourself in revenge and forget why you were fighting in the first place. You think you’ve won, but look at you, you’re angrier now than before.”
“Shut up!” Tessa snapped. “You think you’re so wise because you sit on the sidelines and judge. Why don’t you just stay out of my business and go to your hot boyfriend Damien? Isn’t that what you want anyway? To be with him instead of helping me?”
Ayisha froze, the words cutting deep.
Tessa stood in the middle of the kitchen, chest heaving, eyes blazing. Her anger wasn’t just at the children, or at Ayisha—it was at herself, her failures, her loneliness. But instead of admitting it, she lashed out at the one person who had stood by her through everything.
Ayisha’s jaw tightened. She picked up her cup again, calm on the outside, stormy within. “Careful, Tess. Don’t mistake me for your enemy. You already have enough of those.”
The silence that followed was thick, the kind of silence that made even the walls seem to hold their breath.
Upstairs, the faint sound of children’s voices carried through the halls. Their laughter was missing.
And in two different houses across the city, Ares and Tessa sat in their own versions of defeat—one drowning in whiskey and grief, the other drowning in rejection and rage.