Chapter 36 36

Chapter 36 36
Chapter 36

“What’s going on?” Fabian asked, his voice tense. Behind him stood Vladimir, visibly frightened by the reporters crowding the gate, cameras flashing in his direction.

“You're the son of Sonia Salazar and Victor Valencia, aren’t you? Can we talk to you? Just a short interview!”

France's brows furrowed as he heard the reporters. Their school adviser quickly arrived, ushering the boys back inside and instructing them not to go out yet. A few students, drawn by the commotion, boldly went to the gate, claiming Vladimir was their classmate.

“France,” Vladimir whispered, clutching the strap of France’s bag.

“Do you have a ride?” France asked calmly, though he was clearly concerned.

“Yeah… I’m sure the driver’s already waiting in the parking lot,” Vladimir replied as they stepped inside the classroom. France set his bag down on the table and handed Vladimir his phone.

“Try calling your house. You know the landline number, right?”

Vladimir nodded and made several attempts, but the line remained busy. Frustrated, he returned the phone to France.

“I guess I’ll just wait here until the reporters leave,” he mumbled.

“That’s not an option,” France said firmly. “If you wait, more of them will show up. This happened to me once too—back when my dad’s scandal with his co-star blew up.”

France dialed another number. The call was picked up almost instantly.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” a woman’s voice answered warmly.

“Grandma, can you pick me up? I’m with a classmate. There are a lot of reporters outside the university,” France explained.

He didn’t want to call Sonia—his mom—knowing she would panic. That would only escalate the situation if the press saw her.

“Alright, honey. I’m on my way,” his grandmother replied without hesitation.

Vladimir tilted his head. “Who was that?”

“My grandma,” France replied. “She’s sending help so we can get out safely.”

“But… why do they know who I am? Why are they here for me?” Vladimir asked, fear creeping into his voice.

“I don’t know for sure,” France admitted. “But I have a bad feeling it’s related to the custody case between your parents.”

Two black vans soon pulled up outside the university. Men in suits emerged—Martinez family security. They cleared the reporters and allowed a private lawyer to step out, who warned that legal charges would be filed against the media for harassment.

“Is it true Sonia Salazar is now Fabian Martinez’s second wife?” one reporter shouted. “Was she the reason for her separation from Victor Valencia?”

The woman inside the van remained out of view. The guards entered the school grounds to retrieve France and Vladimir.

“France!” Vladimir gasped, collapsing onto the floor and covering his head as one of the men entered with a large black umbrella.

France immediately moved to his side. “He’s not here to hurt you. They’re here to protect us.”

France turned to the guard. “Put that umbrella away and keep the press away from Vladimir. He leaves first.”

Vladimir looked up just in time to spot Themarie—his aunt—approaching.

“No! Please!”

Vladimir clung to France’s arm, trembling.

“I don’t want to go! I don’t want to leave!”

France clenched his fists, furious that Vladimir had been driven to such a state by his own family. He turned to the guards.

“Leave. I’ll handle this. We’re staying here for a while.”

Meanwhile, Sonia stepped out of the car and headed into a familiar café where Sophia had invited her to meet. The staff greeted her warmly. This was one of their favorite spots, a place they often visited as a family.

A staff member approached her, saying that the elder Mrs. Martinez had already reserved their table upstairs. As Sonia ascended the stairs, a man in a dark hoodie bumped into her. He reeked—saltwater, burnt grass, and decaying flesh. She gagged at the smell.

“Madam!”

The man bolted out of the café. Sonia covered her nose and composed herself before continuing.

Once at the table, Tania and Sophia arrived together.

“Sonia, are you okay? You look pale,” Tania asked.

Tania had recently become Sonia’s official manager after she returned to the entertainment industry, thanks in large part to Fabian’s encouragement.

“I’m fine… just a bit nauseous.”

Both women blinked in surprise.

“Are you pregnant?” they asked in unison.

Sonia nearly choked on her drink. “What—what are you saying?!”

She turned red, while Sophia reached across the table, grinning. “Am I getting a little nephew?”

Sonia set down her glass and shook her head. “That’s impossible.”

“Why impossible?” Tania asked. “You’re married. You’re both healthy.”

“Fabian uses protection. He also told me to take pills,” Sonia admitted quietly.

Both women fell silent.

Sophia’s expression changed—was Fabian still harboring doubts about Sonia? Did he not want children?

That didn’t add up. Fabian practically worshipped Sonia.

Before the conversation could deepen, Sonia’s phone rang.

It was Fabian’s mother.

“I’m with France. We’re heading to the café now. Are you already there?” her mother-in-law asked.

Sonia didn’t question why France was with her. “Yes, we’re already here,” she replied and ended the call.

Soon, France arrived, running into her arms.

“Mom!”

Sonia kissed his cheek and embraced her mother-in-law.

“Did Fabian have overtime again?” she asked.

“I thought he was coming home early to help set up Vladimir’s room,” Sonia replied with a smile.

Her mother-in-law’s face darkened.

“I want to talk to him about hiring a bodyguard—for you, France, and Vladimir,” she said.

Sonia’s face grew serious. “What happened?”

France explained everything—the reporters, Vladimir’s panic, and how they had to call police just to leave school.

“I thought you and the Valencias agreed to keep everything about Vladimir private?” Fabian’s mother asked, clearly upset.

“I’m sorry,” Sonia whispered.

“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart. This wasn’t your fault. I’m sure the Valencias orchestrated this leak,” she said, gently stroking Sonia’s arm.

“I promise, I’ll fix this,” Sonia said, taking her hand.

“You’re not alone,” her mother-in-law replied. “If you need help—ask. Our family would do anything for you and your son.”

Sonia smiled. Despite the hardships and past trauma, she was blessed in the end—with a loving husband and a supportive new family.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Sophia cleared her throat. “Let’s finish dinner and sign the contract so you can head home.”

Sophia had offered Sonia a part-time modeling job at her company. Even if the offer wasn’t high-paying, Sonia had agreed—out of gratitude and because Fabian also worked part-time there. Sophia valued her as an artist and had personally requested her to sign.

“As stated in the contract, your privacy and private dressing room are guaranteed. We’re sponsoring you until the end of the contract,” Sophia explained.

Tania nodded. “I’ve read it all. 80% of the terms are fixed.”

“Then let’s sign it,” Sonia said, smiling.

Tania pouted playfully. “Did you even need my approval?”

Sonia laughed. “Sophia’s designs are gorgeous. That’s one reason.”

“I already took Vladimir’s measurements. I’ll have the designs sent,” Fabian’s mother added.

“Mom—”

“Consider it a birthday gift for my grandson.”

Sonia nodded. “Okay, but I’ll also request a bag and shoes for him. I forgot to order those.”

Everyone laughed.

Meanwhile, at the Valencia mansion…

“What is the meaning of this?!”

The matriarch glared at the bank staff as she read the notice in her hand.

“As stated, ma’am, the account under Miss Sonia’s name has been drained. If no action is taken, it will be closed.”

Victoria, Victor’s twin, waved it off. “Don’t worry. Our agency earns well, and Themarie is still here.”

The matriarch dismissed the staff and sat down, fuming.

“I need to talk to Victor and Themarie. This isn’t sustainable.”

Her daughter rolled her eyes. “You’re overreacting.”

Suddenly, Victor and Themarie arrived. The latter was visibly frustrated—she had been scolded by the director again and was tired of being scrutinized.

“Themarie, give me your bank account number,” the older woman demanded.

“What? Why?”

“It’s time to pay us back for everything the Valencias have done for you.”

“What?! I never asked for your help! You pushed me into showbiz!”

“Themarie! Watch your tone!” Victor snapped. “Just give it. Let’s end this discussion.”

“No!” she shouted. “That’s my savings!”

Fear crept into her chest—she remembered what the Valencias did to Sonia back then. They drained her, used her, and left her with nothing.

And now, history was repeating itself.