Chapter 61 CHAPTER 61
Vanishing Shadows
The storm did not calm. If anything, it grew stronger.
Days after, the internet was still boiling. Hashtags trended nonstop across every platform:
#JusticeForAres
#FreeChloe
#KidsDeserveBetter
Every news outlet replayed clips of Ares walking out of court hollow eyed, his voice declaring that he would never stop protecting his children. That clip alone had been viewed millions of times. His pain had become the world’s anthem, his heartbreak transformed into a weapon the public wielded against Tessa.
Comment sections overflowed with rage. Strangers united in their fury, denouncing Tessa as selfish, greedy, and unfit. The mall humiliation had only made it worse; footage of her being pelted with eggs was replayed mercilessly, stitched into mocking edits, laughed at by influencers.
For every word of hate, there was sympathy for Ares. People called him a father wronged, a man stripped of what was his. Even Chloe, despite her prison sentence, had a small wave of supporters who painted her as a victim of Tessa’s vendetta.
Tessa had no shield.
Ayisha could no longer ignore the danger. The mob outside their gates grew larger each day. Online threats multiplied. Phone calls at ungodly hours, people screaming profanities before hanging up. Their security guards worked overtime, but the compound felt like a besieged fortress.
She realized one thing clearly: if this storm continued, the children would be the ones to pay.
So she swallowed her pride and went to see the one man who could stop it.
Ares sat in the dim corner of a rooftop bar, glass of whiskey untouched. He looked older, the weight of the last weeks carved deep into his features. His tailored suit hung loose as though even his body had begun to shrink beneath grief.
When Ayisha arrived, he lifted his head, his eyes dull.
“Ayisha,” he muttered, almost wary. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
She sat across from him, folding her hands on the table. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
Ares arched an eyebrow. “Everything seems to be important these days.”
“Ares,” Ayisha said carefully, “you need to do something. Tessa is drowning. And the kids… they’re going to get hurt. The public is too angry, too focused on her. They’ll take it out on the children sooner or later.”
He scoffed. “You think I care what happens to her? After she ripped them from me? After she stood there, silent, while Chloe was thrown into prison?”
Ayisha leaned forward, her voice urgent. “This isn’t about her. This is about Jamal, Kamal, Beauty, and Pretty. Do you want them growing up with the world hating their mother? Do you want them dragged into this fire? The house needs to be safe, for their sake.”
Ares looked away, staring at the city lights below. For a long time, silence stretched between them.
Finally, he sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
“Release a statement,” Ayisha said. “Tell the world to stop. Tell them you don’t want Tessa harassed. That the kids need peace.”
His jaw worked, muscles tight. Then he nodded once. “Fine. For the kids.”
By morning, Ares’s face was everywhere again but this time, his words carried unexpected grace.
He stood at a podium, reporters packed before him, microphones catching his every breath. Cameras streamed live to millions.
“I ask the public,” he said, voice heavy but steady, “to end this hatred against Tessa Monroe. She is the mother of my children, and no matter what has happened between us, those children deserve to grow up in safety. They deserve peace. This war of insults and threats does not serve them. It only hurts them.”
His eyes glistened faintly as he paused. “I beg you, for the sake of Jamal, Kamal, Beauty, and Pretty… let this end.”
The internet shook. Some mocked him, saying he was weak, manipulated. But others softened. The tide shifted slightly, at least enough to ease the relentless harassment.
For the first time in weeks, the mob outside Tessa’s gates grew smaller.
But Ayisha’s personal life was unraveling.
Damien, her hot boy who had once seemed to chase her endlessly was suddenly cold. He didn’t answer her calls. He left her messages on read. He stopped showing up at their usual jogging routes.
Ayisha replayed every moment in her head, wondering what she had done wrong. Was it her connection to Tessa? The bad press? Or had he simply lost interest, moving on to another girl who wasn’t neck deep in scandal?
At night, she lay awake staring at her phone, waiting for his name to pop up. But it stayed dark, and the silence cut deeper than she cared to admit.
She told no one, not even Tessa.
Meanwhile, Ares went to see Chloe.
The prison cafeteria was a bleak space of steel tables and flickering lights, but when Chloe walked in, she carried herself like a queen stripped of her crown yet refusing to bow. Her prison uniform clung to her slender figure, her hair tied back in a loose bun. Even behind bars, she exuded a dangerous allure.
When she saw Ares, her lips curved into a trembling smile. “You came again.”
He stood, pulling out a chair for her. “Of course I did. Stop acting surprised whenever you see me.”
They ate together. Simple food on metal trays, beans, rice, a piece of dry bread. Yet Chloe savored every bite as though it were a banquet, because he was there.
They talked. About the kids, about the madness outside, about the unfairness of it all. For a moment, the weeks of betrayal, anger, and chaos blurred into something familiar. She laughed, tossing her head back, eyes shining. He chuckled softly, though his heart remained guarded.
Then she leaned closer, her voice dropping low. “You don’t know what it means to me that you’re here. That you still… care.”
Her hand brushed his, her lips parting as she leaned in for a kiss.
But Ares pulled back, shaking his head. “No, Chloe.”
Her smile faltered, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Ares, I am your wife.”
“I’m here,” he said softly, “but don’t mistake that for forgiveness. I haven’t forgotten what you did. I’m trying… but I’m not there yet.”
Chloe’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. She turned away, blinking rapidly, hiding the tears threatening to fall.
The guards announced visiting hours were over. She stood, straightened her back, and walked away with the poise of a woman who refused to be broken even as her heart crumbled.
Back at the mansion, Tessa was growing restless. The children had been quiet all evening, that was too quiet for them.
She checked their rooms. Jamal’s bed was empty, the covers thrown aside. Kamal’s toys were scattered, untouched. Beauty’s sketchbook lay open on her desk, half finished drawings abandoned. Pretty’s favorite doll lay face down on the floor.
Panic coiled in Tessa’s chest. She called out their names, her voice sharp, echoing through the hallways.
“Jamal? Kamal? Beauty? Pretty?”
Of course they wouldn’t answer her.
Her footsteps quickened, pounding up and down the staircase, through every room. Nothing.
Ayisha emerged from the kitchen, frowning. “What’s going on?”
“They’re gone,” Tessa gasped, her face pale. “The kids… they’re missing.”
Ayisha froze. “What do you mean, missing? They have to be here somewhere.”
“They’re not!” Tessa shouted, hysteria rising. “I’ve checked every room, every corner, every bathroom! They’re not here!”
The house suddenly felt cavernous, too large, every shadow whispering threats. Tessa’s chest tightened as her mind raced with worst case scenarios—kidnapping, revenge, Chloe’s supporters, Lady Bianca’s schemes.
Her phone slipped from her trembling hand, clattering to the floor.
The children were gone.