Chapter 289 Sins of the mothers

Chapter 289 Sins of the mothers
Isabel’s POV

The world tilts under my feet as Selene’s words crash through the air.

Aria is Vivianne’s and Felix’s daughter.

My breath catches.

Wait… what?

She’s… Cynthia’s half-sister?

My thoughts stumble over themselves as shock sinks deeper. Is that why…?

Flashes hit me—moments I never gave too much thought to. The sharp, silent glares Aria always threw Cynthia’s way. The way her whole presence changed anytime Cynthia entered the room—tense, coiled, angry. And how easily, how immediately she agreed to fight alongside me to take Cynthia down.

So this was the reason all along. It wasn’t just revenge—it was personal. It was blood.

Everything makes sense now. The reason Aria worked herself half to death to earn every naira. The secrecy. The refusal to speak about her mother. We found nothing about her past because she hid her mother away, buried her from a world that wanted her gone.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

All this time… all her pain, all her rage, all her silence—it was rooted in Selene. And Cynthia.

I always knew there was something off, something hidden behind those guarded eyes. But I never pried. I told myself I’d wait for her to feel safe enough to tell me.

But this? This is so much bigger than I ever imagined. I thought her hidden feelings for Roy were the deepest secret she carried—but this… this is more than heartbreak.

This is survival.

And now here we are, all of us swallowed by pain we didn’t start. The suffering we’ve lived through—it didn’t begin with us. It began with our parents. With their twisted history. With the hatred Selene nurtured like poison.

And now, Selene is pushing her forward. Making her pull the trigger. Forcing Aria to become a criminal in her place.

My heart pounds as Aria stands before me, gun in hand, her fingers hovering just near the trigger. Her eyes… they don’t blink. They don’t waver. But they hold something dark and breaking.

What is she thinking?

Will she do it? Will she let Selene’s manipulation swallow her whole?

Will she kill me to save her mother?

The screams from Scarlett and Sterling pierce me. Sharp. Raw. My body jolts at the sound, my heart shattering with every cry.

Aria’s fingers twitch. The barrel trembles in her hand.

My breath hitches. My eyes plead, silently. Don’t do this. Please, Aria. Don’t.

I shake my head slowly, eyes locked on hers. My heart is in my throat.

Don’t do this.

Then—

Bang.

The sound tears through the room.

Everyone stills.

A sharp chill sweeps over us like a gust of death.

But it doesn’t hit me.

My eyes fly open. I’m still kneeling.

Aria’s arm lowers. Her breathing is uneven, broken. “I can’t do this,” she whispers. Her voice shakes. “No. I can’t.”

Her shoulders cave. Her knees buckle beneath her and she collapses, the gun falling from her grip as tears spill down her cheeks.

My whole body trembles. My legs lose strength and I sink to the ground, breath ragged, the weight of what almost happened crashing into me.

“Isabel!” my mother cries out, trying to reach me—but Selene’s men grab her, yanking her back.

“Let go of her!” I scream, reaching out, clawing toward her. She stretches her arm toward me, her voice thick with pain.

“Baby—!” she chokes.

We reach for each other, sobbing, separated by bodies, by force, by cruelty.

Then Selene’s voice slices through the moment.

“What?” she snaps. “What do you mean you can’t do it?”

She storms forward. “All you have to do is put two bullets in Isabel. Remember how she tried to steal Roy from you?”

Her tone is coated in honeyed venom, dripping with manipulation.

“This is your chance,” she purrs, circling Aria. “She’s the one standing in your way. With her gone, you can be with Roy. No more obstacles.”

Aria shakes her head violently, backing away. “No… no, stop…”

Selene grabs her shoulders tightly. “She’s right there, Aria! The only thing between you and what you want. Just pull the damn trigger and be done with it.”

Then softer, darker, each word slicing like a knife:

“Do it.

Do it.

Just shoot her… and your problems will be gone for good.”

The room stills. No one breathes.

A heavy silence settles, waiting—like the whole world is holding its breath for Aria’s answer.

And then—

Aria breaks.

She crumples to the floor, screaming through sobs, “I can’t do it! I can’t! I just can’t!”

Tears rush down her face, her body shaking like it might fall apart from the inside.

Selene’s face twists with disgust. “Useless,” she hisses.

Before anyone can react, Cynthia lunges forward, snatches the gun off the floor. Her face blank, eyes cold.

“If she won’t do it,” she mutters, “then I will.”

She points it straight at me.

My breath stops. My heart races so fast it might break free.

The gun fires.

The sound splits the air, deafening.

And I don’t feel pain. I don’t feel anything. Until—

I see her.

Aurora.

She stands in front of me, arms spread. The bullet hits her clean, square in the back.

Blood blooms from her side like petals, thick and red.

My mouth parts, a soundless gasp escaping.

“Aur…” I stammer, stumbling to her. “Aurora… what… what did you…”

She turns to me slowly, her lips trembling into a faint smile. “Don’t worry, sis,” she whispers. “I’m fine.”

She coughs.

“I just… I couldn’t let my munchkins grow up without their mother.”

Her knees give out. She collapses.

“No—” I scream, dragging myself toward her, my wrists still bound. I cradle her the best I can, pulling her close with trembling, half-tied arms as she slips from my grasp. “No, no, Aurora—why? Why did you have to do that?! Please stay with me. Don’t go!”

Her body grows heavier in my arms. Blood soaks through my clothes. The floor beneath us turns red.

A scream rips from deep within me—loud, raw, wounded.

Voices explode around the room. Shouts. Screams. Footsteps.

My eyes snap up to Cynthia, who stands frozen, gun still raised.

“You,” I growl, my voice low and guttural. “You’re going to pay for this. I swear it, Cynthia. I’ll make you pay!”

Her eyes widen. She stumbles backward.

Selene snarls and snatches the gun from her. “Give me that. Now’s not the time for your guilt trip.”

She fires a shot into the air, snapping everyone into silence.

“Enough of this foolishness!” she screams.

Everyone ducks, terrified. Panic spreads like fire.

She turns back, her eyes wild and cruel. She points the gun at me.

“Since Aurora chose to go first…” her voice turns deadly, “then maybe you should join her.”

She swings the barrel.

“Or maybe your precious mommy. Or—”

She turns again, pointing at my children.

“These two little things.”

My heart drops.

“No!” I scream. “Please—don’t hurt my kids!”

Selene’s finger hovers near the trigger.

Then—

A voice blares through the air.

“Surrender now! Drop your weapons! You are surrounded. Any wrong move, and you will be shot down!”

It’s the police.

Selene’s men panic, eyes darting. Cynthia stiffens. Fear ripples across the room.

Selene’s expression twists as realization dawns.

“No,” she mutters. “No, no, no…”

Her voice rises to a scream. “Who dares to tell me what to do?! I make the rules! I give the orders!”

She laughs, humorless, unhinged. “I’ve waited years for this day, and you think I’ll stop because of a speaker?!”

The warning repeats, louder this time. “Put your weapons down. This is your final warning.”

Her men scramble. One tries to escape. The others freeze, uncertain.

Selene lifts her gun, pointing it toward my mother.

“If I go down,” she says coldly, “then she goes with me.”

She doesn’t get the chance.

A shot rings out—sharper, louder than hers.

Then another.

And another.

Her body jerks. Blood sprays.

She stumbles back, riddled with bullets. Her arms flail before she crashes to the ground.

Silence follows.

Cynthia’s scream pierces the quiet. “Mom!”

I stare, heart hammering. Selene lies motionless, a pool of red spreading beneath her.

Footsteps approach steadily from outside.

With shaking hands, I fumble to the knot around my wrist. I find the sharp pin Aurora tucked into my hand earlier. My fingers bleed as I cut through the rope and break free.

I crawl to my children, wrapping them in my arms. Their tiny bodies tremble. I hold them tightly.

I look up and see Cynthia trying to escape.

No.

Not this time.

I kiss my kids on their foreheads, then look at my mom, my voice sharp with purpose. “Take care of them, Mom. I can’t let her get away. Not again.”

She grabs my wrist, but I pull free.

I run.

Mind racing. Feet pounding.

One goal. One truth:

Cynthia must not escape.

I tear down the corridor after her, not stopping—not now, not ever.