Chapter 149: The Threat

Chapter 149: The Threat
Chapter 149: The Threat

ANNA SERRANO

"Wait..."

Elena's voice stopped me, made me pause with one hand on my car door.

"Is Hermione my granddaughter?" she asked, the question dropping into the space between us like a bomb.

I froze completely, every muscle in my body going rigid, my hand gripping the car door handle so tightly my knuckles went white.

What? What was she saying? How did she—

My mind raced, panic flooding through my system, my carefully maintained composure shattering in an instant.

I turned slowly to face Elena, my heart pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears, and saw the calculation in her eyes, the certainty forming despite my silence.

And I knew, in that terrible moment, that everything was about to change.

The secret I'd protected for six years, the truth I'd hidden so carefully, Elena knew.

Or at least, she suspected.

And that might be even worse.

"What are you saying?" I asked, forcing confusion into my voice as I turned to fully face Elena, my hand still gripping my car door like an anchor. "What do you mean by that question?"

I needed to buy time, needed to assess how much she actually knew versus how much she was guessing. Needed to figure out if this was suspicion or certainty, hypothesis or evidence.

Elena gulped visibly, her eyes darting away from mine for a moment before she seemed to make a decision. When she looked back at me, her jaw was set with determination, like she'd decided to charge head-on into this confrontation regardless of the consequences.

"When I saw her at the gala," Elena said, taking a step closer to me, her voice becoming more insistent, "she looked so much like Abel when he was a child. The resemblance was... striking. Undeniable."

She took another step, closing the distance between us.

"I raised Abel from birth," she continued, her voice gaining confidence as she spoke. "I know every expression he ever made, every feature of his face at every age. I know a resemblance when I see one. And that little girl—Hermione—she has Abel's eyes. His smile. The way she tilts her head when she's thinking. Everything about her screams Donovan."

She stopped directly in front of me, invading my personal space in a way that was clearly meant to intimidate, to force me into a confession through sheer proximity and pressure.

"So I want to know the truth," Elena demanded, her eyes boring into mine with an intensity I'd rarely seen from her. "Is she my granddaughter? Have you been hiding her away from us all these years? Keeping Abel's child from her own family?"

My mind raced through possible responses, calculating angles and strategies even as panic threatened to overwhelm my ability to think clearly.

I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, could feel sweat beginning to form on my palms, could feel the edges of my vision starting to blur with the rush of adrenaline and fear.

But I couldn't let any of that show. Couldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me rattled, seeing me scared, seeing any crack in my armor that would confirm her suspicions.

So I did the only thing I could think of: I went on the offensive.

"Your granddaughter?" I scoffed, the sound harsh and mocking, designed to make her question herself. Then I laughed—actually laughed, throwing my head back slightly with the force of it, making it seem like she'd just said the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.

"Are you crazy, Elena?" I asked, my voice sharp and cutting. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

Elena visibly recoiled, her expression shifting to shock and offense, clearly taken aback by my aggressive response and the disrespect in my tone.

"What did you say?" she demanded, her voice rising with indignation. "Did you just call me crazy? Did you just speak to me that way?"

Her face was flushing now, anger mixing with her shock.

"So it's true what everyone says," she continued, her voice becoming more accusatory. "You've indeed changed. The old Anna would never have dared speak to me like this. But you're different now—harder, crueler, disrespectful."

"And why exactly do you think you deserve my respect?" I shot back, my voice cold and challenging. "We are nothing to each other anymore, Elena. We haven't been family for six years. I owe you nothing—not courtesy, not deference, and certainly not answers to invasive questions about my personal life."

I stepped closer to her now, reversing the power dynamic, making her take a step back.

"Your granddaughter?" I repeated, putting all the mockery I could muster into those two words. "You really make me laugh. You're so funny with your delusions and your assumptions."

I shook my head, letting contempt show clearly on my face.

"I'm a cheater, remember?" I said, throwing her own accusations back at her. "According to you and your family, I cheated on your precious son. I did all sorts of evil things. I was only using the Donovan family for money and status and whatever else you all convinced yourselves I wanted."

My voice became harder, more cutting.

"So how could Hermione possibly be your granddaughter?" I asked, the question rhetorical and mocking. "If I'm such a terrible person who slept around and betrayed your son, why would you think my daughter has anything to do with your family? Wouldn't she be the product of one of my supposed affairs?"

"It's not like you didn't sleep with my son!" Elena snapped back, her composure cracking, her voice rising with desperation and anger. "You were married to him for years! You must have carried his baby instead of another man's child! The timeline fits! The resemblance is too strong to be coincidence!"

Something inside me snapped completely. All the pain she'd caused me, all the times she'd made me feel small and worthless, all the ways she'd contributed to my destruction six years ago—it all came rushing back with overwhelming force.

The only thing stopping me from slapping you right now, I thought with crystalline clarity, is the respect I have for Gerard. That's it. That's the only thing keeping me from causing a scene.

"Hermione is not your granddaughter," I said, each word clear and definitive, spoken directly to her face with barely controlled fury. "She is my child. Mine. That's all you need to know. That's all you get to know."

I stepped even closer, forcing her to crane her neck slightly to maintain eye contact.

"Don't think twice about this ridiculous theory of yours," I warned, my voice dropping to something more dangerous. "And don't ever bring this up with me again. Ever. Or else I will deal with you in ways you can't even imagine. Do you understand me?"

I paused, making sure she was really listening, really hearing the threat in my words.

"You have much worse issues to be worried about anyway," I continued, allowing a cruel smile to play at the corners of my mouth. "Like your family company's downfall. Like the fact that your son is about to lose everything because of his own stupidity and weakness. Maybe you should go focus on that instead of harassing me with baseless accusations."

Elena looked absolutely shocked—horrified, really. Her eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them, her mouth slightly open, her face pale beneath her makeup. She looked like I'd physically struck her rather than just verbally demolished her.

"You..." she stammered, seeming unable to form a complete sentence. "You've really changed. You're not the woman I knew at all."

"Good," I said flatly. "The woman you knew was weak and easy to manipulate. I'm not her anymore. Remember that."

I hissed—an actual sound of disgust and dismissal—and turned my back on her, walking toward my car with deliberate, unhurried steps.

I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me run, of seeing me flee like a frightened animal even though that's exactly what I wanted to do.

"We will know soon enough!" Elena screamed after me, her voice shrill with frustration and what might have been desperation. "The truth always comes out! We'll get a DNA test! We'll prove it!"

I didn't respond, didn't acknowledge her words at all. I simply opened my car door, slid into the driver's seat with as much grace as I could muster, and started the engine.

Only once I'd pulled out of the driveway and Elena had disappeared from my rearview mirror did I allow the facade to crack.