Chapter 42

Chapter 42

The set was filled with applause and flower-giving after the final scene between Amara and Fabian. Fabian was drenched, and his manager handed him a towel.

“Fabian, are you okay?” the director asked. They had done five takes of the last scene where Fabian fell into the sea because of Victor.

Fabian simply nodded in response. He glanced at the camera crew and stayed in character, continuing to work professionally.

From the sidelines, Victor shot a glare at Fabian. All the staff and co-actors felt the tension between the two, but no one reacted.

“Gosh, Mr. Valencia seems to be taking his character too seriously. Did you see what he did to Mr. Martinez?”

“Yeah, I saw that. I think he did it on purpose to get back at him.”

That was just one of the conversations among the staff in a private group chat—which eventually leaked to the media and went viral.

Fabian was completely drained after filming. He had no energy left as they walked to the car.

He couldn’t even wave at the fans clamoring for his attention—until:

“Fabian!”

Fabian stopped abruptly. His manager, Jomari, was startled to see Fabian’s wife suddenly among the crowd.

He recognized Sonia’s voice immediately. Searching quickly, Fabian spotted her standing among the fans, holding a bouquet of flowers. Lance was with her.

“Sonia.”

Fabian’s face lit up, and he rushed over. His bodyguards moved in to block the crowd.

Sonia laughed when he reached her. She handed him the bouquet, smiling warmly.

“Congrats, honey,” Sonia said with a bright grin. Then, without hesitation, she hugged him tightly.

“I need to recharge,” Fabian murmured, clearly exhausted.

Victor, who had just exited the set, saw Sonia embracing Fabian. It was 3 AM—she had come just to congratulate her husband.

Victor clenched his fists in jealousy. He remembered the days when Sonia used to visit his sets, bringing flowers even when she had just flown in from abroad. She used to prioritize him. Now, she was doing all that for another man. The bitterness in his chest was hard to understand.

An assistant director approached Sonia and greeted her warmly. Sonia responded formally, then began discussing sponsorships and contracts—but quickly stopped herself.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Fledrin. I’m just here to pick up my husband. For any follow-ups or reviews, please contact my manager,” she said with a polite smile.

She could clearly see how exhausted Fabian was. She hadn’t come for business—only for him.

The assistant director chuckled and said they could go. She apologized for the interruption.

Sonia led Fabian to the car.

“Have you been waiting long? Your hands are cold,” Fabian remarked, lifting one of her hands to his lips.

“About an hour, but I stayed in the car for the last 30 minutes,” she replied, smiling.

Lance opened the door for them. Sonia entered first, followed by Fabian.

“Free ticket to Paris?” Fabian asked Lance, who was about to close the door.

Lance blinked in surprise.

“Free ticket for one month. You can take anyone you want with you,” Fabian added.

Lance nearly jumped for joy. “Seriously? I’ll take it! Definitely!”

Sonia laughed. It seemed this was Fabian’s way of thanking Lance for accompanying her that night.

Sonia frequently contacted Lance and his siblings, and they never let her down—especially Lance, who often drove her around.

While on the road, Fabian leaned against Sonia’s shoulder and quickly fell asleep.

“Lance, let’s stop at a coffee shop. Please get some hot coffee for Fabian,” Sonia said gently, holding Fabian’s cheek. She also turned off the air conditioning so he wouldn’t get chilled.

Since the last scene was shot at the beach, Fabian’s hair was still damp. The car stopped in front of the coffee shop. Fabian stirred slightly and looked out the window.

“I’m having Lance get you coffee. Do you have a coat?” Sonia asked.

“It’s wet too,” Fabian replied.

Sonia adjusted his position and turned to kneel on her seat. She grabbed a folded, clean blanket from the backseat.

She handed it to Fabian, and he quickly wrapped himself in it. The water earlier had been freezing, and they'd done multiple takes.

Soon, Lance returned with the coffee and handed it to Sonia. She immediately gave it to Fabian, who held it tightly in his hands.

A few minutes later, Lance resumed driving.

“Dad!”

Vladimir and France greeted Fabian the moment he stepped through the door. He stopped, surprised.

“Why are you two still awake?” he asked.

“It’s already 4 AM, Dad. We have school, but we stayed up to congratulate you,” France said.

Vladimir nodded beside him.

Fabian smiled and ruffled their hair. “Thanks, kids.”

“Help your mom make breakfast, will you? I really need sleep,” he said as he trudged up the stairs.

“We’ll take care of it. Right, Vlad?” France said.

Vladimir just smiled and nodded. Sonia told them to stay in the living room and keep it quiet while she got Fabian’s clothes ready and prepared breakfast.

“What’s cooking, Sophia?” Lance asked as he entered the kitchen, where Sophia was busy with the oven.

“Yes, Mommy!” both kids replied, running back to the living room.

France plopped onto the sofa while Vladimir settled on the carpet and resumed coloring.

“France, do you need help with our science project? I’m almost done with mine,” Vladimir said, showing a drawing of human anatomy.

“I’m good. I finished half. I’ll do the rest at school,” France replied, distracted by his phone game.

Vladimir suddenly grabbed the phone.

“Mom said to limit gadgets,” he reminded.

Lance and Sophia peeked into the living room.

“But I slept early! Come on, give it back—I only play at home!” France protested, trying to snatch it back, but Vladimir held it away.

“You woke up early to play, too. Just help me color this,” Vladimir said, handing over a crayon.

Lance stood up, sensing an argument brewing. He brought out a plate of pancakes just as France jumped off the sofa, annoyed.

“Fine! What color do I use?” he asked, joining Vladimir on the carpet.

Sophia laughed and told Lance not to disturb the two boys.

A little while later, Sonia came down and checked the living room. Seeing the boys on the carpet, she smiled before heading to the kitchen.

“Thanks for looking after them,” she told Sophia.

“No problem. They weren’t any trouble,” Sophia replied with a grin.

“I’ll take care of breakfast so you can eat before work,” Sonia offered.

At school, several teachers approached Vladimir and France’s adviser, along with some reporters and even the school dean.

“Look, you won’t get anything from me, okay? Vladimir doesn’t really talk to me, but he’s always with France. And honestly, he’s been handling things well. That’s all I can say,” the teacher said, brushing past them.

She thought the kids were far too young to be entangled in complicated family and media drama.

When she entered the classroom, she saw France and Vladimir immediately. They stood and greeted her.

“Teacher, we’re done with the drawings,” France said, showing their work.

She smiled and praised them.

After class, parents were allowed to pick up their children.

“A-auntie?”

Themarie removed her hat and approached Vladimir, who was about to leave the classroom.

“Child,” she said gently, trying to lure Vladimir back.

If they had him, they could pressure Sonia for money again.

France quickly stepped in front of Vladimir, his expression fierce. Parents around them started paying attention. Vladimir froze in fear.

“Step aside, kid. Vladimir is coming with me,” Themarie said, her voice low but threatening.

“He’s not going with you, you witch!” France snapped, pushing her. She stumbled in her heels and fell onto the chairs.

France grabbed Vladimir’s hand and pulled him out of the room.

Reporters' cameras focused on them immediately as they ran.

“Catch them!” Themarie screamed to her manager and driver, pointing toward the fleeing boys.

The teacher had just come out of the office when she saw them running toward her, panicked, with Themarie and two men in pursuit.

“Teacher! Help!” France cried out. Vladimir had tears in his eyes.

The teacher quickly pulled the boys behind her.

“School’s over. I’m taking him home,” Themarie said coolly.

“From what I see, he doesn’t want to go with you,” the teacher responded firmly.

“I’m his guardian—”

“No! His mom already spoke to you! He’s not going with you!” France yelled.

“His mom abandoned him. He was raised with us. That gives us more right to him now,” Themarie insisted.

The teacher glanced at Vladimir. He was pale, his small hands ice-cold. His terrified expression told her everything.

“Ma’am, as long as the child is on school grounds, it’s my duty to protect him. Let’s call his biological parents,” she said, stressing the word.

Themarie’s smile disappeared.

“You know the Valencias sponsor this university, don’t you?” she warned.

The teacher held the boys tighter.

“France, call your mom. Tell her I need to speak to her,” she said calmly.

Themarie tensed. Parents were filming.

France quickly removed his bag, pulling out his phone—only for Themarie to slap it away.

As France protected his bag, Themarie’s long nails scratched his cheek.

Vladimir’s eyes widened.

“F-France…” he whispered.

Themarie and her manager froze in shock.

“Oh my God! France!” the teacher gasped, kneeling beside him. Blood dripped down his uniform as she pressed a handkerchief to his cheek.

“Stop recording!” the manager yelled at the crowd.

But it was too late. Photos and videos were already spreading online.