29: I hate her.

In the video projected for all to see, Yanna and Kyle were tangled in an intimate embrace, their passionate moans echoing through the space. Both were naked, the scene unfolding in Yanna's room where I had placed a hidden camera. The guests inhaled sharply, some even bursting out with loud curses at the sight. Quintos' party, which was anticipated to be a roaring success, had instead turned into a nightmare. It was now a disaster.

Kyle and Yanna's parents were in disbelief at the explicit sight before them. Some of them couldn't bear to watch the large screen, their eyes instead fixated on the two individuals who were the center of the unfolding scandal.

This was going to be a significant scandal, one that could ruin reputations.

Tears welled up in my eyes, clouding my vision. I had known what was in the USB, but hearing their moans again was like a knife twisting in my chest, causing my tears to flow freely. Damn it. I had thought I was over it, that it wouldn't affect me anymore. But the pain was still there, gnawing at me, reminding me of how much I had endured their deceit right under my nose.

I tried to stop my tears but they refused to halt. This was not part of my plan! I had vowed I wouldn't cry, that the last laugh would be mine, not these tears!

I clutched my chest. The pain was unbearable, as if my heart was being squeezed and twisted in a vice. I told my heart to stop hurting, that it shouldn't be feeling this way anymore!!

I wiped my tears away harshly, my actions almost frantic as the tears continued to stream down my face.

Yanna attempted to leave the scene, but the media was already swarming around her. She was crying, her eyes hidden behind her hands as her shoulders shook with her sobs.

Kyle, on the other hand, looked stunned. His gaze was fixed on the projector, the source of his shame laid bare for all to see.

Suddenly, Tres stood up and marched towards Kyle. I rose to my feet as Tres threw his fist, landing successive punches on Kyle's face.

"You bastard!" Tres shouted, continuing to rain blows on Kyle who was unable to defend himself and quickly fell under the onslaught of Tres' fists.

No one intervened. Even I didn't want to. My tears continued to flow, unchecked.

Tres only stopped his attack when Uncle Shawn pulled him away. They all looked furious.

My cousin, Uncle Shawn, and even my own parents.

Being the only girl in our family, their reactions were understandable.

Dad approached Kyle, and I rushed to his side as he delivered a strong kick to Kyle's stomach, who was already sprawled on the floor.

"You absolute piece of shit! How dare you! You had the audacity to cheat on my daughter?! With her foster sister? You had the nerve to hurt her?! I've never laid a hand on my daughter, never raised my voice at her and you hurt her in such a way? Who do you think you are?! Fuck!" He shouted, his voice and tone filled with unchecked fury.

Even I was taken aback by his furious shouting. His rage made my lips part in shock, and I covered my mouth as he kicked Kyle in the stomach again, causing the man to double over.

This was a side of my Dad that I had never seen before. I had gotten used to him always being the joker, always making people laugh. But now, I was seeing a completely different side of my father. The Herrers sure do have a terrifying way of expressing their anger.

His anger was palpable, like a storm cloud ready to burst. Mom tried to calm him down, but I was shocked when he forcefully yanked his arm out of her grip.

My mother was taken aback and she came over to me. I could see the pain in her eyes from what Dad had done. When she reached me, I hugged her tightly. I closed my eyes and cried into her shoulder.

I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y-Yvonne..." I heard Yanna's voice, broken and shaky.

I opened my eyes and looked at her, my gaze filled with anger and disappointment. She was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. She attempted to touch my hand, but before her palm could make contact, a loud slap echoed through the room.

My mother had slapped Yanna. She, too, was shaking, her body trembling with rage. Her eyes, sharp as knives, bore into Yanna.

Her eyes held a mixture of disgust and disbelief that Yanna could do such a thing to me. She knew how I grew up with Yanna, how we had shared some memories together. We might not have been very close, but my mom knew how well I treated her.

"My daughter trusted you," my mother declared firmly.

Yanna hung her head when she heard my mother's words. It was true. I had trusted her, until she betrayed me. Ever since we were children, I had treated her like a sister, never as an adversary.

"She treated you like her sister, a friend. And this is how you repay my daughter? How dare you hurt her! How dare you!" my mother spat out the words, her voice seething with anger.

Yanna took several more slaps from my mother. I didn't do anything. I simply watched as my mother hurt her.

My mother had never physically hurt anyone before, but now, in front of a crowd, in front of the media, she slapped Yanna multiple times without a second thought.

"How could you have the audacity? You two? You cheated! You're a liar! You had the nerve to hurt someone who treated you right!"

"Tita, I'm sorry..." Yanna was sobbing, looking like she was about to kneel in front of my mother.

"Sorry? Why are you apologizing to me? Am I the one you hurt? Am I the one you crushed?" Mom asked.

"And you're sorry because it's now exposed? That there was something going on between you and Kyle behind my daughter's back?! You flirted with a man who has a girlfriend?" My mom shouted in fury.

Her eyes were bloodshot. Yanna looked at me through her tear-filled eyes.

"I-I'm sorry... Yvonne... I'm really sorry..." She turned to me, her voice barely a whisper.

My mother took a deep breath at her side, but she didn't say anything else.

With a mixture of frustration and disbelief, I couldn't help but let out a humorless chuckle as I confronted her, my voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "So, you decide to apologize now, huh? Why is it that only at this very moment you find it fitting to utter those words? Why didn't you extend this courtesy earlier, when it truly mattered? And what compels you to lie to me, to deceive me so cunningly? I yearn for an explanation, for the truth behind both of you and Kyle actions that have caused such distress."

As the weight of my words settled upon her, her tears began to flow uncontrollably, each droplet a testament to her anguish. But it was the last thing I wanted to witness on this particular day - her sorrow, her despair, and the cacophony of her emotional breakdown. In that moment, a seething hatred welled up within me, fueled by the resentment that had been building over time. I found myself utterly repulsed by the very sound of her cries, the heart-wrenching sobs that echoed in the room, and the melodramatic theatrics that seemed to accompany her every emotional display. I hate her so much as I hate her drama.