Chapter 37 37

Chapter 37 37
Chapter 37
3rd Person's POV

The moment Sonia heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, she quickly removed her apron and rushed to the front door. Her heart fluttered with joy as she opened it, revealing Fabian stepping out of the car.

He looked exhausted, but his face immediately lit up—just like always—the moment he saw her.

“Wife!”

Grinning, he walked straight up to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sonia laughed softly and hugged him back, even tighter.

“The bathtub’s ready upstairs, and I already set out your clothes,” she said with a warm smile. “I know you’re tired. Go take a shower and relax.”

Fabian pulled back just a bit, just enough to press a quick kiss on her lips. Sonia immediately blushed and whispered that Jomari was still in the car.

“So what? I missed you,” Fabian replied playfully, rubbing his cheek against hers like a child. Sonia just let him be, choosing not to say anything more.

“Stop giving her a hard time, Fabian. Go take that shower already.”

Fabian froze and turned toward the voice behind Sonia. It was unmistakably his mother.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Fabian asked, puzzled.

“I can’t visit my son and daughter-in-law now?” she replied lightly.

Sonia reached for Fabian’s arm, calming him. He pouted at her, complaining that he was getting jealous because she spent more time with his mom than with him.

Luckily, Sonia had already finished cooking before Fabian arrived. While setting glasses on the table with a smile, her hand slipped—and one of the glasses crashed to the floor.

“Sweety? Are you okay?”

His mother quickly rushed into the kitchen. Sonia clutched her chest; her hands had suddenly gone cold and clammy with anxiety.

“I-I’m okay, Mommy,” Sonia replied, avoiding eye contact. Fabian’s mother quickly told her not to touch the broken glass and called the helpers to clean it up instead.

Meanwhile, at the Valencia mansion—

“What the hell is this, Victor? This wasn’t part of our deal! You promised me a good life!” Themarie screamed in frustration.

Victor sighed and rubbed his temples. “Just follow what my mother wants, okay? Stop overthinking everything.”

“Overthinking?! Isn’t this the same thing you did to Sonia?! I’m not her! This is my money—we worked for this!” Themarie shouted even louder.

Victor’s expression hardened at the mention of Sonia’s name. In a flash, he grabbed Themarie by the jaw, making her pale at the sight of the fury in his eyes.

“You’re right. You’re not Sonia,” he growled. “If you were, you’d have given up your card without hesitation. You wouldn’t be clinging to the Valencia name just to climb up the ladder. Or have you forgotten how much the Valencia family has invested in your so-called career? Who do you think arranged all those sponsorships you’ve been getting over the years?”

Victor sneered. “Don’t flatter yourself, Themarie. Sonia was the one who opened doors for you. You became a model because of her.”

He shoved her roughly, and Themarie collapsed to the floor, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. Victor walked toward the door and paused, casting a cold glance over his shoulder.

“Fix yourself up, Themarie. No one in this house would hesitate to kick you out the way they did to Sonia.”

As the door slammed shut, Themarie broke down. She screamed in rage, throwing anything she could get her hands on.

Vladimir had just returned and was in the living room. The maids greeted the young boy and asked if he wanted anything to eat.

Politely, Vladimir said yes and asked if they could bring it to his room.

“Hey, idiot! Where’ve you been? You’re just getting home now?” a voice called out sharply.

Vladimir froze and turned. It was Violet—his Aunt Victoria’s daughter—about his age, and constantly hostile toward him.

“I-It was crowded at the university… reporters were everywhere,” Vladimir replied nervously, clutching his backpack tightly.

Violet’s eyes narrowed. “Liar.”

She suddenly noticed his bag. “Hiding candy again, huh?”

Vladimir’s heart raced. The last time he bought candy, Violet stole them. And just today, France had given him some—and he didn’t want to share them.

Violet lunged for the bag, and Vladimir instinctively pulled it back. They tugged fiercely until Violet tripped and hit the ground, face-first.

Blood trickled from her mouth. Two of her front teeth were gone. Her wails echoed throughout the mansion.

“Mommyyyyy!”

Victoria came rushing in from the garden and screamed at the sight of her bleeding child. She ordered the maids to call a doctor immediately.

“Auntie… I didn’t mean to—” Vladimir sobbed, but Victoria grabbed him and slapped him across the face.

“You brat! Just like your mother! Disgusting!”

Each strike sent lightning bolts of pain through Vladimir’s body—still bruised and unhealed from earlier abuse. He collapsed to the floor, trembling and sobbing quietly.

Themarie arrived moments later, face dark with fury. “What happened?”

“Look what that boy did to my daughter!” Victoria shouted.

Themarie snatched Vladimir’s arm, making the boy flinch in terror.

“Auntie! Please! My wounds—they’re not healed yet. Please don’t let my mom see me like this!”

Vladimir dropped to his knees, begging. Themarie’s lips curled into a cruel smile. Seeing Vladimir’s desperate, pitiful state—so much like Sonia’s—sparked something dark inside her.

She crouched down to his level and cupped his face.

“Don’t worry, Vladimir. Sonia will never see you again… because I won’t let you go back to her.”

Vladimir froze.

“You think I don’t know?” Themarie whispered, her eyes burning with fury. “You’re close to Fabian Martinez’s son. You’re friends with France, right?”

Vladimir felt ice in his veins. If his dad and grandmother found out about that… they’d transfer him to another university without hesitation.

“How about we talk about your birthday, hmm?” Themarie added with a fake smile.

Two hours later, Vladimir was curled up under his study table, hugging himself.

His arms were covered in bruises. He trembled from the cold, clutching his mother’s favorite scarf.

“My chest hurts, Mom…” he whispered.

That night, Vladimir cried silently until sleep took over.

The next day,

Vladimir didn’t show up at school, and France couldn’t sit still all day. After class, she approached their teacher.

“Miss, why wasn’t Vlad here today?” France asked, gripping the strap of his bag.

The teacher looked up while packing her things. “His mother called. Said he was sick.”

France thanked her quietly, but his gut told him something was wrong. Vladimir never missed school—not even with a fever. He clearly preferred being at school than at home.

And the fact that it was Vladimir’s stepmother who made the call? That made France even more suspicious.

As he walked down the hallway, someone called to him from the floor below. France looked down from the railing and saw Zaylon Baisen—the younger brother of one of his dad’s close friends.

Though they were somewhat close, France hadn’t spent much time with Zaylon recently—his focus was always on Vladimir.

“Alone again? Where’s your little bodyguard?” Zaylon teased, waving at some classmates walking by.

“He didn’t come to school,” France replied, walking down toward him.

“Wanna come hang out at the mansion?” Zaylon offered. “I’m staying at brother Mavis’s place tonight—same subdivision as the Valencias.”

France stopped in his tracks. Zaylon smiled sweetly over his shoulder.

“So… you coming or what?”

“Okay, honey. Call me if you’re heading home, I’ll have the driver pick you up,” Sonia said warmly over the phone.

“I love you, Mom!”

“I love you too!”

France ended the call and placed his phone in his bag. “You got a power bank?” he asked.

Zaylon handed one over, and France connected it to his phone.

“You seem really close to your stepmom. Isn’t that… awkward?” Zaylon asked, curious.

“My mom’s kind,” France replied with a smile.

Zaylon tilted his head. “What if they have another baby? Won’t it be hard sharing her attention with Vladimir—and maybe even another brother?”

“My mom’s beautiful,” France replied softly as his phone lit up. “I’m sure their next kid will be just as pretty.”

Zaylon went quiet for a moment. Then France asked, “Aren’t you close with brother Mavis?”

“I… don’t really know,” Zaylon said quietly. “He never scolds me, always gives in to my demands… but he always seems so distant. Not like you and Vladimir.”

France nodded thoughtfully. He had heard that Zaylon’s mom was much younger than Mavis’s dad—and had left Mavis’s family to start a new one.

Soon they arrived at the subdivision. Two cars were parked outside the mansion.

“Looks like brother is here,” Zaylon said.

The maids greeted them and welcomed them inside.

“For God’s sake! What is Carlo doing? I can’t get in touch with him!” Mavis yelled, pacing with his phone. Eugene Rui sat nearby, wincing.

As the boys entered, they saw papers scattered all over the living room and three laptops on the table.

Mavis glanced up. “Don’t just stand there. Come in,” he muttered.

France greeted them politely. Mavis simply nodded and asked the maids to prepare food for them. He didn’t speak again.

As they climbed the stairs, France glanced back at the adults.

Inside Zaylon’s room, Zaylon walked straight to the glass wall on the veranda.

“France, look—Valencia’s mansion. Vladimir’s outside.”

France rushed to the glass and saw Vladimir sitting near the edge of the pond. Suddenly, a few other kids arrived—and pushed him in.

He fell into the water, soaked to the bone.

“What the fuck?!” France gasped out of panic... 

He grabbed his bag and rushed to the door, but Zaylon blocked him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to Vladimir!”

Zaylon stopped him again. “I didn’t bring you here so you could run off to him.”

“What?!”

“There are reporters outside the Valencia mansion,” Zaylon said. “This is our chance—to show the world what kind of people they really are.”

“That’s good! I’ll expose how horrible Vladimir’s stepmom is. I’ll show them what kind of monsters the Valencias are!”

Zaylon looked worried. “You said it yourself— there was a reason why Vladimir never told them about your friendship . If they find out… they’ll pull him from the university.”

France froze, hand on the doorknob. Zaylon sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

“They’ll take him away for sure.”

Frustrated, France dropped his bag and clenched his fists.