Chapter 23 CHAPTER 23
A new beginning
The compound was silent except for the faint rustle of the wind moving through the trees when the driver rolled the truck to a stop before the towering wrought iron gates. A white mansion, glistening in the afternoon sunlight, rose in the distance. It looked unreal, like a postcard painting of paradise—clean white walls, massive windows, and palm trees neatly lined across a paved driveway.
Tessa sat stiff in the passenger seat, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Her body trembled faintly as she stared at the luxurious house, yet her heart was heavy as a rock. Beside her, Ayisha was practically buzzing with excitement, drumming her fingers on the dashboard as the gates slowly swung open.
“Welcome home,” Ayisha whispered, smiling, though she glanced at Tessa with concern.
Tessa blinked. Home. That word tasted bitter. How could she call this mansion a home when her children were not inside it? When the only warmth she craved was still locked away in another woman’s arms?
The driver eased the truck in. The sunlight bounced off the polished hoods of two cars parked neatly in the driveway—sleek, exotic, and gleaming like rare jewels. One was a black Range Rover, glossy and intimidating, the other a deep red Maserati that looked like it had been born for speed.
Ayisha gasped dramatically, slapping Tessa’s arm. “Girl, do you see this? Do you see what pain has bought us? Two cars. Exotic. Shining like they dropped from heaven. God is good.” She burst into laughter, almost giddy, and hopped out before the driver had even turned off the engine.
Tessa remained seated, staring at the cars as her eyes watered again. A sob pressed against her throat. She didn’t care for Maseratis, or white mansions, or palm trees that swayed like dancers in the wind. She wanted tiny hands tugging at her dress, the sound of little voices calling her “mama.” Nothing else mattered.
Ayisha noticed and bent into the truck, pulling her hand. “Tessa, come. At least look around. If you cry again, I’ll slap you into tomorrow.”
A humorless laugh escaped Tessa’s lips. She wiped her face with trembling fingers and finally stepped out.
The air smelled of freshly cut grass and faint perfume—lavender, probably sprayed by cleaners who wanted everything perfect. Her sandals clicked softly against the stone pavement as she followed Ayisha toward the front doors.
Inside, the house opened like a palace. Marble floors stretched across the foyer, chandeliers sparkled overhead, and white leather couches gleamed in a vast living room. The kitchen was sleek, with golden fixtures and an island polished to perfection. Every wall screamed wealth, luxury, power.
Ayisha twirled in the center of the room like a child. “Ha! Lady Bianca really came through. This is no house; this is a paradise on earth. Imagine us sipping juice in the mornings, watching TV on these massive screens. Girl, we made it.”
Tessa only nodded, tears clinging to her lashes.
Ayisha sighed, then softened. She touched Tessa’s cheek gently. “I know. I know this is not what you wanted. But for now, let’s settle. The children… we’ll find a way.”
Tessa broke. She fell to her knees, pressing her hands against her face as sobs racked her body. “Ayisha, what if I never see them again? What if Chloe keeps them forever? I can’t breathe when I think about it—my babies are somewhere out there, calling for me, and I’m here… in this prison that shines too much.”
Ayisha knelt with her, wrapping her arms around her. “Trust me. Just trust me. We’re not done fighting. But for now, let’s use what we have. This house, these cars, this chance—it’s a weapon. And weapons win wars.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, the silence broken only by the sound of Tessa’s quiet sobs.
Eventually, Ayisha stood and pulled out her phone. “I’m ordering food. I don’t want to cook in this palace yet. Let’s celebrate with peppered chicken and jollof, delivered hot.” She winked, trying to lift the mood.
Tessa leaned against the couch and nodded faintly, her gaze lost on the chandelier. She felt like a stranger in a life that wasn’t hers.
That same night, in a different world entirely, Ares lay sprawled across his massive bed in a dimly lit room. The curtains were drawn, but the faint glow of the city pressed against the edges of the window like an unwanted guest.
He turned over for the hundredth time, his body restless. Sleep refused to come, chasing him away like an unworthy beggar. His chest rose and fell sharply as he stared at the ceiling, his mind replaying a single face over and over.
Tessa.
Her tear filled eyes, the way her voice trembled when she begged for their children, the raw pain she carried in her body like a permanent shadow—it haunted him. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to shut his eyes, but her image only burned brighter in the darkness.
Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? Why did every part of him ache as though someone had sliced his heart with a sharp blade? He had chosen this path. He had walked into a marriage, forced himself to believe it was the right decision. But his soul… his soul refused to let her go.
The door creaked softly, breaking his thoughts. Chloe stepped in, dressed in a night gown that shimmered faintly under the warm yellow lights. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, her perfume drifting ahead of her like an expensive announcement.
“Ares,” she whispered, slipping onto the bed beside him. “It’s late. You should rest.”
He stiffened but didn’t move. She leaned closer, pressing her lips against his shoulder, her hand trailing along his chest.
He caught her wrist firmly, pushing her aside.
Chloe’s breath hitched. “What is this?!” Her voice rose, trembling between anger and disbelief. “It’s been almost a month since we married, Ares. A month! And in all this time, you haven’t touched me. Not once.”
She sat up, her voice growing louder, echoing in the room. “Do you know what people are saying? That you don’t desire me. That I am your wife only by name. Do you understand the shame you’re putting me through?! I need you! I am horny.”
Ares closed his eyes briefly, his jaw tightening like steel. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t even want to speak. But Chloe wasn’t the kind of woman who accepted silence.
She grabbed his arm, shaking it. “Answer me! Am I so undesirable to you? Or is it that you still want her? Is it Tessa?!”
The name stung him like a whip. His eyes snapped open, a fire flickering inside them. For a moment, he didn’t speak. He only looked at Chloe, her face twisted with rage, her lips trembling with hurt.
Then he whispered coldly, “Don’t ever say her name again.”
The silence that followed was heavier than thunder.
Chloe’s eyes widened. Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but no sound came out. She saw the truth in his expression—the longing, the pain, the obsession he could never hide no matter how hard he tried.
She clenched her fists, trembling with a mix of jealousy and humiliation. “I am the one you married, Ares.” she spat, before storming off the bed, her footsteps sharp against the marble floor as she slammed the door behind her.
Ares lay back, exhaling sharply. His chest ached as though every breath was war. He pressed his hands against his face, his mind drowning again in the thought of Tessa.
Tessa in tears.
Tessa begging.
Tessa broken.
Across the city, Ayisha was dancing barefoot in the living room to a song playing from her phone. She carried a plate of peppered chicken in one hand, swaying her hips and laughing at nothing in particular.
Tessa sat by the window, staring at the Maserati parked outside, her tears flowing silently.