One Hundred & Twenty Eight

One Hundred & Twenty Eight
The next morning, the tension in the mansion was thick, like the air itself was holding its breath. Amara sat at the long breakfast table, her hands gripping the edge of her chair, knuckles white. Her father, Don Matteo, didn’t even look at her as he began, his voice cold and sharp.

“You’re such a weak brat,” he spat. “Why the hell were you screaming so much last night? Disturbing the house… always so selfish.”

Darius’s hand shot out under the table, gripping hers tightly. He didn’t even look at Matteo, his jaw tight. “That’s enough,” he growled. “She’s had enough.”

“Dad, it’s enough,” Valen added, voice low but firm, his eyes flashing at their father.

Amara’s fingers trembled as they clenched her dress. Her stomach churned, dread settling over her like a heavy weight.

Don Matteo’s eyes narrowed. “A disgrace,” he muttered, his tone cutting, sharp as a knife.

Amara froze, her heart stopping for a moment. The word made the air between them crack. She looked at him, voice shaking. “Murderer… you killed Mom and tried to kill me.”

Valen’s fork fell from his hand. “What do you mean?” he demanded, his face pale. “He tried to… why would he want you dead?”

Don Matteo’s eyes turned icy, staring at Amara as though he could pierce her very soul. “You finally remembered,” he said slowly, venom dripping from every word. “Finally tried to pretend you didn’t remember all these years.”

Amara swallowed hard, tears threatening. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much?”

His face twisted in fury. “Your mother…” he spat the words like poison, “…that bitch… that whore… cheated on me with my close friend. You’re the product of that disgrace!”

Amara’s world went silent for a heartbeat. Her lips parted, unable to find words. “Mom… cheated? That can’t be…”

Her chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped iron bands around it. Her eyes darted between her father and Valen, searching for answers, for some sign that this was wrong. But Don Matteo’s face was like stone, unyielding, unfeeling.

Darius leaned closer, his arm brushing against hers protectively, his dark eyes locked on Matteo. “Don’t you dare speak about her like that,” he growled, low and dangerous.

Valen’s hands trembled on the table, fists curling and unclenching. “Dad… you’re lying, right?” His voice was thick with disbelief, with fear and anger that their father could say such things.

Amara shook her head slightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I… I don’t know what’s true anymore,” she whispered, voice breaking. “All these years… everything I thought I knew…”

Darius’s hand covered hers, pressing it gently. “You know the truth, pumpkin,” he murmured. “And nothing he says can take that away. Your mom isn’t any of these thing he says.”

Her eyes met his, the warmth and safety in them a stark contrast to the cold cruelty at the table.

And that thought gave her the courage to meet Don Matteo’s gaze, though it shook her from head to toe.

“You can say what you want,” she said, her voice trembling but steadying, “but I know the truth about Mom. And I will never let you make me feel guilty for being her daughter.”

Don Matteo’s face hardened even more, as though her defiance was a wound he couldn’t forgive.

Valen’s face turned pale, his hands gripping the table until his knuckles were white. “What do you mean, Mom cheated?!” he demanded, voice shaking with anger and disbelief. “Why would she…why would you even say that?”

Amara’s hands trembled as she spoke, the words spilling out between sobs. “He… he tried to kill me, Valen,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I remember everything … he pushed me into the lake when I was twelve. He tried to drown me… remember the time I almost down.. it was all dad”

The room went still. Every fork, every breath, seemed to freeze. Valen’s jaw dropped. “You… what?!” His eyes shot to their father, disbelief mixing with fury.

Don Matteo’s expression didn’t waver. His eyes were cold, hard as stone. “She deserved death,” he said flatly, his voice void of emotion. “She brought shame into this house. She had to be punished. Your mother was a shameful thing.”

Amara felt her stomach twist, bile rising in her throat. Her mother… the woman she had loved and mourned, described as “shameful,” as if her life had meant nothing. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks.

Valen slammed his hand on the table. “You’re lying! Mom would never do anything like that.. you’re lying!” His voice shook, fury and heartbreak fighting each other. “Do you even hear yourself? You tried to kill your own daughter!”

Darius’s dark gaze narrowed, and he stepped closer to Amara, his hand brushing her trembling shoulder. “That’s enough,” he said, voice low but dangerous. “She’s not yours to hurt anymore. I’m glad she doesn’t have an ounce of your disgusting blood”

Don Matteo’s eyes flicked to Darius, full of cold challenge. “And you think you can stop me?” he sneered. “This is my house. I took care her. She owes me for life.

Amara’s voice cracked, but she forced herself to speak. “I’m not a child anymore,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of you. You don’t owe me. You’re a monster… A monster and I hope you wroth in hell.”

Valen’s hand found hers under the table. “I’m so sorry, Amara,” he whispered, his own eyes wet. “I didn’t know. I … I had no idea what was… I… I’m sorry.” He said almost in tears

Darius’s jaw was tight, dark eyes flashing like storm clouds. “And if he tries anything, he’ll regret it,” he muttered, just loud enough for Don Matteo to hear.

For a long, tense moment, no one spoke. The room was thick with fear, anger, and heartbreak. Amara’s chest ached…