Chapter 38 38
Chapter 38 38
Chapter 38
Fabian woke up early, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Still drowsy, he got up and stepped out of the room. The door beside France's bedroom was slightly open, and he walked toward it.
There, seated on the carpeted floor, was Sonia, carefully wrapping and arranging the gifts meant for Vladimir.
“Wife?” Fabian said softly, settling beside her. “Is there something missing in the room?”
Sonia looked up, a gentle smile forming on her face. “It’s nothing. I just couldn’t sleep out of excitement. Tomorrow, I’ll finally be with Vladimir again.”
She tied a ribbon and placed it neatly atop a gift. Fabian couldn’t help but admire her, but his expression slowly turned bitter.
“I’m still trying to figure out how Victor had the nerve to let you go. That man’s pure bullshit,” he muttered.
Fabian didn’t know whether to be grateful for Victor’s foolishness—which gave him the chance to be with Sonia—or furious, because the thought of Victor cheating on her after everything made his blood boil.
“If that accident didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have realized what kind of man Victor truly was… or that one of my closest friends was a traitor,” Sonia murmured, her tone now heavier.
Fabian paused. Sonia reached out, gently cupping his cheek.
“I didn’t grow up with a family. I was starving for love and attention. I loved Victor because he was always there, and I endured his family because I wanted to believe that I had become a part of something—that I belonged. I pursued acting not just for myself, but for Victor and the people who believed in me. They filled the gaps that my childhood never did.”
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then turned to Fabian and smiled sweetly.
“But when I met you, I started to wonder—how did I ever settle for someone like Victor? In some strange way, I’m thankful he did what he did… because it led me to you.”
“You gave me everything, Fabian—without ever making me feel like I was lacking. You gave me a home. A real family I could call mine.”
Seeing tears roll down Sonia’s cheeks, Fabian gently cupped her face. “I only gave you what you truly deserve, Sonia.”
—
The day finally came when Fabian and I were scheduled to pick up Vladimir. His birthday was tomorrow, so we had to fetch him a day early to celebrate. Fabian brought our lawyer along for precaution.
As soon as we arrived at the Valencia mansion’s gates, I stepped out of the car—anxious, hopeful, and desperate to see my son again.
The helpers opened the door. My smile vanished instantly the moment I saw Victor waiting in the living room.
“Vladimir,” Victor called, giving the boy a slight push toward us.
My heart softened upon seeing him. I took a step forward, ready to embrace my son—but he pulled back. My breath hitched.
Vladimir clutched his own arm, looking away. “I don’t want to go with you. I want to celebrate my birthday here… with Dad.”
My smile slowly faded.
“Just for a day, sweetheart. Come to the mansion for a day,” I said, gently stepping closer.
But he stepped back again. “No. I said I don’t want to!” Vladimir snapped, his voice rising as he stared at me. His face was etched with frustration and anger.
“Leave me alone! I’m not going with you!”
He turned and started walking up the stairs, but I ran after him and wrapped my arms around him from behind, crying as I whispered, “Please… please give me a chance, honey.”
“Stop forcing the boy, Sonia!” Victor barked, stepping between us and blocking the way.
I was stunned—my son’s face was twisted in pain. And then… Fabian moved.
Without hesitation, Fabian grabbed Vladimir’s arm.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Themarie shouted and rushed forward, trying to stop him.
But Fabian pulled up Vladimir’s sleeve—and our world stopped.
Bruises. Multiple bruises. Scattered across his small arm.
My blood turned to ice. Fabian’s fist clenched—and in a flash, he punched Victor so hard he collapsed onto the floor. Fabian then grabbed a wine bottle from the table and slammed it down.
“Who did this to the child?” he roared.
I gasped and ran to Vladimir, trembling, trying to pull up the other sleeve. But Vladimir screamed.
“No! Mom!”
He hugged himself tightly, tears pouring down his cheeks. “It’s ugly, Mom! Don’t look!”
I held him, sobbing as I cradled his body. My child… covered in wounds.
“Why—how—”
“They’re just bruises!” Themarie snapped. “He’s a naughty boy. We’re disciplining him!”
I stood up, my voice cold. “We’ll see you in court.”
Victor scoffed. “You can’t just take him away!”
“Our client has every right!” our lawyer interjected. “The bruises alone are enough evidence of child abuse!”
I looked at Fabian—he was already carrying Vladimir in his arms, shielding him protectively.
“We’re taking the child whether the court approves or not,” Fabian growled. “Call the police if you want. I’ll burn every peso I have to destroy you.”
He tightened his grip on Vladimir and held my hand.
“Fabian,” I whispered tearfully.
Victor lunged forward, but Fabian immediately stepped in front of me.
“Touch them, Valencia. I swear to God—I’ll kill you.”
Victor stumbled backward, and the lawyer quickly opened the car door for us.
I climbed into the back seat, and Fabian gently placed Vladimir beside me.
“Mom…” Vladimir whispered. I didn’t say anything. I just pulled him close.
“I’ll never send you back to that hell again, Vladimir. Mommy’s not leaving you anymore.”
I used to believe the Valencia name meant security for Vladimir—that Victor would at least care for him. But I was wrong.
“We need to bring him to the hospital,” Fabian said, steering the car in a new direction.
“Is that safe? I saw some reporters near the Valencia mansion. What if they follow us?”
“I’ve already called my mom. She’s sending our security team to guard the hospital. Let them come. Vladimir is what matters now.”
From the rearview mirror, I saw Vladimir looking at Fabian with curiosity. Then he turned to me.
“Fabian’s kind,” I whispered.
“I know,” Vladimir murmured. “France is my best friend.”
I squeezed his hand, fighting the tears again.
—
At the hospital, we requested a full-body checkup. Nurses cleaned and treated Vladimir’s wounds.
He requested that I wait outside. He didn’t want to undress in front of me. I understood—but my heart ached.
Fabian stayed with him.
Inside the room, Vladimir was crying quietly. The anesthesia wasn’t strong enough to numb all the pain.
Fabian’s expression darkened. He couldn’t stand seeing the boy like that.
“Everyone out,” he said coldly to the nurses. “Call the doctor.”
They obeyed immediately. Fabian noticed Sonia peeking in through the door, but he gently shook his head. “We’re not done.”
“It hurts,” Vladimir sobbed.
Fabian exhaled slowly and sat by the bed. “Kid, don’t dig your nails into your palms.”
He held out his hand. “Squeeze my hand instead, okay?”
Vladimir blinked—then, for a second, he saw France’s face in Fabian.
He slowly reached out and took Fabian’s hand.
Three doctors came rushing in. One immediately scolded the nurses.
“Start treatment now,” Fabian snapped. “This is not the time to argue.”
The doctors worked carefully this time, mindful not to cause more pain. Vladimir barely reacted anymore, comforted by Fabian’s presence and gentle hold.
Eventually, Vladimir fell asleep. The pain had lessened thanks to medication and exhaustion.
—
Back at the mansion, France sat in the living room waiting.
Almost four hours had passed. Sophia tried to reassure him, saying Sonia and Fabian would be home soon. She handed France a snack—but, as usual, he didn’t touch it.
The sound of a car approaching made him bolt upright and race to the door.
He flung it open. Sonia and Fabian had arrived.
“Mommy! Where’s Vlad?” he asked, eyes wide.
Fabian was at the backseat, carefully carrying the sleeping boy.
“He’s asleep,” Sonia answered softly.
France lit up when he saw Vladimir in Fabian’s arms.
“I thought you were fixing Vlad’s bed?” Fabian asked with a smirk. “Why are you standing there?”
France jumped and ran excitedly into the mansion.
Sophia approached and saw the boy in Fabian’s arms. The heaviness in the air told her everything.
She wouldn’t be surprised if this became another headline or if the police came knocking soon.
Fabian carried Vladimir into the room they had prepared. He gently laid the boy down.
France was already seated by the bed, watching quietly.
“I think you already know what Vladimir’s role in this house will be,” Fabian said.
France looked up and nodded. “Since we met at school, I figured he’d be my stepbrother.”
Sonia knelt beside him, matching his height.
“From now on, we’ll live together in this mansion. And Vladimir—”
“Mom,” France interrupted, touching her cheek.
“I’ll make sure he feels safe here. Just like I protected him at school—I’ll do it again. No need to explain. No matter what happened before—I accept him.”
“100%. He’s family.”
Sonia couldn’t hold back the tears. She pulled France into a hug, thanking him over and over.
—
The next morning,
Vladimir bolted upright from bed, sunlight pouring into the room.
Panic rushed in—this wasn’t his room. He expected to be scolded by his aunt or grandmother for waking up late.
He hurried downstairs for breakfast… and froze.
There stood France in the living room. He stood up with a smile.
“Vladimir!”
Vladimir rubbed his eyes. “Am I still dreaming?”
France walked over and pinched his cheek. “You’ve been asleep long! Let’s eat together.”
Vladimir’s eyes widened as he saw Sonia and Fabian nearby. Fabian—the man from the billboards and magazines—was his new dad.
The memories from yesterday flooded back. It wasn’t a dream. His mom really came. She really took him away.
“I told you he’d cry again,” France teased with a giggle.
Sonia rushed over to calm Vladimir down.
“Why’d you pinch him?” Fabian scolded, gently tugging France’s ear.
“Hey! That wasn’t even hard,” France protested.
Vladimir didn’t know what this warmth inside him was. But it felt safe.
“Shhh, baby. It’s your birthday—why are you crying?” Sonia whispered, wiping his tears.
The mansion filled with laughter and gentle arguments. Sonia could only laugh softly.
For once… it finally felt like a real home.