Chapter 57 "CRACKING ARMOR”
Chapter 57 "CRACKING ARMOR”
Ricky sat in his office; hands curled around the crystal glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched in days. A new plan forming in his mind, a very dangerous, and reckless plan.
The city lights glittered below, indifferent to the storm inside him.
His thoughts filled with Sonia. Sonia Iris. Or rather… Sonia Verma. The woman who had returned from the ashes of a life stolen, who had become untouchable, unstoppable. The woman who had haunted his every success, made him question his own morality, and shattered the fragile calm he had built around himself.
He rubbed his face and let out a long, low sigh.
Sonia was immersed in a spreadsheet, analyzing a new Mendez shell company flagged by Lara. The glow of the screen reflected sharply in her eyes, and the office was quiet except for the hum of the central AC. She didn’t notice the knock at the door until it came again, more insistent.
“Come in,” she said, without looking up.
The door opened slowly. Ricky stepped inside, impeccably dressed, his expression unreadable. But the air shifted. Sonia’s pulse hitched, her chest tightening.
“Ricky,” she said flatly, eyes still glued to her screen.
“I need to talk to you. Alone,” he said, voice calm but with an undercurrent of urgency.
Sonia finally looked up, brow furrowed. “Is this about the Mendez data?” she asked cautiously, her armor tight around her words. “Because if it’s another trick—”
“No tricks,” Ricky interrupted, taking a slow step closer. “I need to tell you the truth. About… everything. About ten years ago. Something you were not aware of. About Crestwood.”
Sonia stiffened. Her pulse accelerated, a strange cocktail of anticipation and dread. She had prepared herself for lawsuits, betrayal, and manipulation—but truth?
He stepped fully into the office, hands unclenched now, voice steady but heavy with emotion.
“Sonia… I lied. About that day. About everything that followed. You didn’t cheat. You didn’t manipulate anyone. You didn’t blackmail anyone. None of it was true, but you already know that. Tessa Clarke had Camila kidnapped—she cornered me, pressured me, told me she would hurt Camila if I did not agree to her terms. She then sent me a video of Camila in a building surrounded by three hefty looking men, informing that they will take turns raping her if I do not collaborate with her, and I… I gave in."
I said what she wanted me to say. I betrayed you. She was scared when she discovered that not only was she adopted, but that you were the missing child of the Clarkes, and she wasn’t. she could not imagine you taking her throne, so she struck.”
His eyes bore into hers, searching for any flicker of reaction. “I thought I was protecting myself, my family… but I wasn’t protecting anyone. I was a coward. I’m so sorry.”
Sonia felt her chest constrict. The spreadsheet in front of her blurred into obscurity. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The years of hatred, the meticulous planning, the rage that had fueled every step of her transformation—suddenly collided with something she hadn’t accounted for: guilt, remorse, human fragility.
“You…” she whispered, voice brittle. “You… you’re telling me this now? After everything? After ten years of destruction, after my family… after the crash?”
Ricky swallowed. “I waited too long. I know that. I have no right to ask for forgiveness. I just… couldn’t go another day without telling you the truth. And this has nothing to do with the ongoing lawsuits, press charges, or anything, I just wanted to let it out of my chest. I did not willfully betray you.”
Sonia felt tears prick her eyes, but she blinked them away, angry at the weakness they represented. Her hands shook slightly as she pressed them against the desk. She cannot let herself fall apart. Not now. Not him.
“I understand if you hate me. If you want nothing to do with me. But you deserve to know the truth at least, and I deserve to be set free. And I—” Ricky was saying.
Sonia cut him off with a sharp inhale, cutting through the weight of his confession.
“Stop.” Her voice was low, controlled—but brittle. “You think your confession… makes this, okay? That it undoes ten years of my life stolen, my family broken, buried six feet under, my… my entire life upheaved, and rewritten, simply because you want to be free?”
Laughing sarcastically, Sonia could not believe what she was hearing. How dare he?
Ricky nodded slowly, pain flashing across his face. “I don’t expect it to. I don’t want it to. I just… couldn’t live with myself, if I do not tell you.”
Sonia felt her carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble. The years of armor—the detachment, the cruelty she had cultivated to survive—were trembling. She realized that the girl who had survived Crestwood, who had rebuilt herself as Sonia Verma, who had risen from ashes into empire… had never fully stopped feeling.
The truth was a strange, dangerous thing. It made her pulse race, made her heartbeat irregular. The rage she had wielded like a weapon suddenly felt complicated. Human. Vulnerable.
She closed her eyes, fighting the sudden wave of emotion. No. I cannot allow this. I cannot let him see me weaken. Not after ten years. Not now.
But the cracks were there, undeniable, and deep.
Ricky watched her, heart hammering, realizing that the power he thought he had over her—over their history, over her response—was tenuous at best. Her armor, the one that had kept her safe for a decade, was splintering, fickle, and fragile.
“I… I don’t want to hurt you further,” he said softly. “I just wanted you to know. That you were never the problem in case you ever thought so. That it was never you. It was me. And I… I am so sorry, I intend to make things right. Check the various news channels live broadcast tomorrow 4pm.” Taking a deep, long look at her, he stood up, and walked away resolutely.
Sonia turned back to her screen, trying to focus on work, to mask the storm raging inside her. But the truth had pierced her defenses. She felt something unfamiliar: the faint, tremulous edge of hope mixed with anger, regret, and a dangerous attraction she hadn’t felt in years.
The spreadsheet glowed on her screen. The shell companies, the Mendez empire… her war. Everything she had built, everything she had planned, was still waiting.
But now… there was a new complication. A chink in her armor.
A voice in her head whispered, as dangerous and intoxicating as it was terrifying: He wasn’t lying. And I… can’t ignore that.