Chapter 241 110
THE silence after her question felt suffocating.
“Or what?” she had asked, eyes locked on him. “You want to deny your daughter?”
Charles stared at her as if she had just accused him of murder.
“What?” His voice cracked. “Deny my— Amelia, what are you even saying?”
She folded her arms across her chest, the phone still in her hand.
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“I’m not playing anything!” he shot back, panic rising visibly now. “This is insane.”
“Inane?” she echoed sharply. “You have a child out there and you have been lying to me all these years.”
“I don’t have a child!” he yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls. “I don’t!”
She took a step back, her brows knitting together.
“So now you are a deadbeat father and a liar?” she pressed. “Which one are we dealing with, Charles?”
His chest heaved. He felt cornered. Trapped.
“God!” he exclaimed, dragging both hands down his face. “Everything is blowing up because of one stupid message.”
“One stupid message?” she repeated, incredulous. “With a picture to clarify?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Then tell me what to think!” she snapped.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Nothing made sense fast enough.
Amelia inhaled deeply, visibly restraining herself. She walked a few steps away from him, then turned back, calmer now.
“Okay,” she said evenly. “Let’s slow down.”
Her sudden calmness made his stomach twist even more.
“You do not have a daughter, right?” she asked clearly.
He nodded immediately. Too quickly.
“I don’t,” he insisted. “Believe me.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, searching his face for cracks.
He swallowed.
She heaved a long breath.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “But you do know who Shantel is, huh?”
His jaw tightened as he nodded reluctantly.
“Ye… yes. I do.”
“Who is she?” she asked, her voice steady but probing. “To you?”
“My… my ex-girlfriend.”
The word felt heavy leaving his mouth. Her lips curved into a sharp, humorless smile.
“Bingo,” she said.
He blinked.
“So what,” she continued, her tone rising again, “your ex-girlfriend is now trying to pin someone else’s daughter on you?”
He stared at her.
“Why?” she demanded. “Why would she do that? What have you? Did you promise her something? Can you cater for child support? Is that what this is about?”
She kept going, words pouring out in quick succession.
“Did you sleep with her recently? Did you give her reason to think she still has access to you? What exactly is going on?”
“Amelia!” he snapped, his teeth grinding. “Stop.”
“Stop?” she fired back. “You think I should stop? A woman just sent me proof that you have a child with her and you want me to stop?”
He felt heat rush to his head.
Shantel.
He felt like screaming her name until the roof caved in.
“Believe me, Ame,” he said, forcing himself to lower his tone, stepping closer. “I have no daughter with her.”
Her eyes hardened.
“God,” she muttered. “You are still lying.”
“I am not!”
“You disgust me.”
The word hit harder than any slap.
He staggered back a little, wounded pride flashing across his face.
“You disgust me,” she repeated, shaking her head.
Without another word, she unlocked her phone and began scrolling rapidly through her gallery.
“What are you doing?” he asked, frustration mounting.
She didn’t answer. Her thumb moved swiftly across the screen, flipping through images.
Then she stopped. Her face stiffened.
She turned the phone around and shoved it toward him.
“Explain that.”
He took the phone, confusion clouding his expression.
Then he saw it. His breath left him in one sharp exhale.
The photo.
Old.
Very old.
But unmistakable.
A group picture.
Him.
Shantel.
And a little girl standing between them.
All smiling.
Happy.
Carefree.
Seven years ago.
Maybe more.
His heart began pounding violently.
“No,” he whispered under his breath.
“More lies,” Amelia said coldly, snatching the phone back from him. “Come on. I’m waiting.”
He stared at her, speechless.
His mind raced backwards in time.
That day.
That event.
That child.
He closed his eyes tightly, dragging his hand through his hair in frustration.
“No, no,” he muttered to himself. “This can’t be true. No.”
He began pacing, his steps uneven now.
Amelia kept talking, her voice rising and falling in anger.
“So you stood there, smiling like a happy family. What was that? A rehearsal? A preview?”
He barely heard her.
His thoughts were spiraling.
That picture.
It had been taken at—
No.
He shook his head aggressively.
This didn’t make sense.
“Charles!” she shouted, trying to pull him back. “Say something!”
But he was trapped in his own storm.
“This is crazy,” he muttered. “This is crazy.”
She stepped in front of him, blocking his pacing.
“Look at me!”
He didn’t.
“Look at me, Charles!”
He finally raised his eyes.
They were filled with panic now.
Real panic.
“Explain the photo,” she demanded.
“I—”
He stopped.
Because how did he explain something that suddenly looked damning?
How did he explain a smiling picture that looked exactly like what it suggested?
His silence felt like confirmation.
Her expression shifted from anger to something worse.
Disappointment.
“I cannot believe this,” she said quietly.
He felt something snap inside him.
He clenched his fists.
Shantel.
Her name roared in his head.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, when the pressure became too much, he exploded.
“Shantel!” he wailed at the top of his voice.
The name echoed through the house.
Without another word, he turned sharply and stormed out of the living room, his footsteps heavy and furious.
The door to the hallway banged loudly as he disappeared from sight.
And Amelia—
Amelia stood frozen in the middle of her living room.
Shocked to the bones.