You and I Both Know You’re Not Winning a Case Against Mr. Carlos
A slow, cruel smile spread across Megan’s lips. And in that moment, Cynthia knew—she had been set up.
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Carlos then dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone and placing it to his ear as he stormed out of the master bedroom and into the vast hallways of the grand estate. His heavy footsteps echoed like rolling thunder, his breathing sharp and uneven as fury boiled through his veins.
"Chief, I need you here. Now! Bring some of your best men!" Carlos’s voice was thick with unrestrained rage. "I have someone who needs to be caged ASAP. Attempted murder on my wife and my unborn child! I want this handled immediately."
His phone was on speaker, and the gruff voice of the police chief crackled through the line. "Understood, sir. We’ll be there in minutes."
Carlos clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. "Good." Without another word, he ended the call and turned on his heels, storming back toward the master bedroom.
Inside, Cynthia lay sprawled on the floor, her bruised body trembling. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she nursed her wounds, her face wet with sweat and tears. She barely had the strength to lift her head, but the moment Carlos re-entered, his powerful presence sucked the air from the room.
"Take a good look around," Carlos thundered, his voice slicing through the thick tension like a blade. "This is the last time you’ll ever see these walls, the last time you’ll breathe freedom!" His fists clenched at his sides, the veins in his neck pulsing with every furious heartbeat.
Cynthia flinched, instinctively pushing herself backward, inching away from his towering figure. Every movement sent waves of agony through her battered body, but the fear in her heart eclipsed the pain. She had never seen him like this— so unhinged, so blinded by rage.
"Carlos… please…" her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. Tears streamed down her face, her lips quivering as she tried to find the right words. "You’re making a mistake. You know me. I would never— have mercy."
"Shut up!" Carlos’s roar was deafening, shaking the very foundation of the room. Cynthia gasped, choking on a sob as she instinctively covered her ears. Even Megan, seated comfortably on the plush bubble sofa with her injured face on display, tensed up at the sheer force of his anger.
Carlos's eyes burned with fire as he jabbed a finger toward Cynthia. "You dare plead for mercy? After what you did?!" He threw his hands in the air, pacing in rage. "My child… my unborn child! You tried to take that from me! From us!"
"No!" Cynthia sobbed, shaking her head frantically. "I didn’t do anything! You have to believe me!" Her voice cracked under the weight of her despair. "Megan is lying! She—"
"Lying?" Carlos’s laughter was bitter, void of humor. He turned to Megan, who immediately let out a shaky breath, looking at Cynthia with a mix of fear and satisfaction. Her black eye and busted lip painted the perfect picture of a victim.
"You think I’m an idiot?" Carlos growled, stepping closer to Cynthia. "Megan is pregnant! Carrying my child! And you… you're jealous and tried to remove her and the child?!" His voice dropped an octave, thick with menace. "I'll destroy you."
Cynthia’s heart shattered at his words. She shook her head weakly, tears blurring her vision. "Carlos, please…" Her voice broke. "You have to listen to me. Just give me time. Time for a proper investigation before you do this. I swear on my life, I’m innocent."
Carlos clenched his jaw, his entire body vibrating with restrained fury. "Time? You deserve no time from me. You deserve to rot!" He slammed his fist against the wall, making Cynthia flinch violently.
Silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Cynthia’s shoulders shook as she lowered her head, realization sinking in. This was it. Megan had won. There was no convincing Carlos. No reasoning with a man drowning in rage.
A small victorious smirk resurfaced on Megan’s lips as she watched Cynthia crumble. This was exactly what she wanted. The perfect end to her perfect plan.
Cynthia let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes briefly before opening them again. She locked eyes with Carlos, searching for even a flicker of the man she married —the man who might have once loved her.
But there was nothing.
Carlos Antonio had already made his decision.
And Cynthia…
Cynthia was as good as gone.
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'Minutes Later...'
The wailing sirens of police convoy SWAT cars screeched through the massive driveway of the grand estate, their flashing red and blue lights slicing through the early morning mist. Cynthia’s heart pounded violently in her chest, her breath hitching as she felt the tremors of the ground beneath her feet. It was over.
Panic surged through her veins like wildfire. With whatever strength she had left from the minutes she had spent crumpled on the floor, she pushed herself up, staggering before bolting down the hallway. Her legs were weak, trembling, but she didn't care. She had to escape. There was no clear destination in her mind, just the primal instinct to run.
Her bare feet pounded against the cold marble floors as she dashed forward, gasping for air, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. But she barely made it past the grand staircase before the sight of uniformed officers blocking every possible exit made her freeze. Their dark, impassive eyes watched her every move as one of them took a step forward.
“There’s no use running,” the officer’s voice was sharp, commanding. “Just come with us.”
From the entrance of the master bedroom she had just fled from, Carlos stood, arms folded, a cruel smirk pulling at his lips. His voice was laced with pure venom as he said loudly, “Let her continue fool herself. She’s a very stupid fellow.”
Before she could process her next move, a strong arm grabbed her from behind, slamming her against the wall with a force that knocked the breath out of her lungs. Her cheek pressed against the cold marble as she struggled against the grip, but the officer restraining her was unyielding.
“Let go of me!” Cynthia screamed, thrashing, her wrists twisting against his iron grip. “I have rights!”
The officer chuckled dryly, his breath warm against her ear. “If you want a lawyer, you’ll get one. But first, you’re coming with us, like I've said.” His voice dropped lower. “And getting one is up to Sir Antonio. But what help will that bring you? You and I both know you’re not winning a case against Mr. Carlos.”