Chapter 177 The Hidden Truth
The mansion was gobbled by a hectic energy. Luke was preparing for the evidence while Peach was instructing the lawyer to save her ‘brother-in-law’ at all cost.
Arabella was on the call with Helena who was pregnant and given complete bedrest.
“You don’t have to, Helena. You have to take care of yourself too.” Arabella told her weakly, her voice sore from the sobbing.
“How can I stay behind, Bella? My brother got arrested. You guys need me and you’re telling me to stay back?” Helena cried, panicking to think about the situation.
“Because I care for you. Think of your condition too, please.”
“Bella…”
“I will see you on the day of hearing. For now, can you focus on his public image? Can you clean that up?” Arabella requested politely.
“Of course I can. I will get my people to work.” She sighed, agreeing with her, knowing her arrival would only be a burden. She should do what she has to do for now.
“Thanks.”
After the call, Arabella was on the couch, hugging her knees, staring into nothingness, praying from the bottom of her heart.
The walls seemed to be suffocating, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow were at the stairs where she almost confessed then to the main entrance where William was taken away.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the cold metal of the handcuffs against William’s skin. The sight appeared before her.
"Save him, Luke," she begged as he hung up the phone with the legal team and entered the main hall. "Please, you have to save him." She whimpered, holding his elbow, her body shaking with dread and desperation
Luke caught her hands, pulling them away, his expression converting into pity, the worry in her eyes induced the realization ‘She was always meant for him’.
The more Luke stared, the more he began to understand this and stepped back.
“The best defense attorney in the country is on a plane right now, Arabella. Peach has cleared the way.”
Luke forced out a smile, reassuring her. Her eyes closed briefly, relieved to hear that and fell on the seat, clutching her dress.
“He will be freed, not just from the cell, but from this entire case. I promise you."
Arabella pulled away, her mind spinning. Yet, through the panic, there wasn't a single flicker of doubt.
“Don’t you want to know why he did this?” Luke asked.
"I don't care about the charge," she whispered, her voice hardening. "If he killed that man, he had a reason. My William doesn't hurt people unnecessarily. He isn't a monster." She defended him mindlessly.
Connecting that incident with hers, she understood one thing, “William goes to extremes when there is no other option left.”
Luke watched her. He saw her unwavering devotion, a love so pure it was willing to embrace a ‘murderer’ without question. It was that devotion that finally broke him.
Luke hesitated. The silence he had kept for 13 years wasn't protecting William anymore, it was suffocating him. And if there was anyone who deserved to know the truth– It was Arabella.
"I am sorry, William," Luke muttered under his breath, looking toward the darkened hallway. "But I’m breaking my promise. I’m not carrying this to the grave."
That night, it was raining. Arabella sat on the sofa, staring at a plate of food she hadn't touched. Luke sat across from her, sliding a glass of water toward her.
"Do you know why William never trusts me?" Luke started, his voice cracking. "Why he never shared his feelings with me, why he thinks I am weak and needs guidance."
Arabella looked up, her brow furrowing, "He loves you, Luke. He wants to protect you."
"Because I am weak," Luke snapped, the self-loathing bubbling to the surface. "I saw it, Arabella. That night thirteen years ago... I saw everything."
“What… Did you see?” Arabella froze, her breath hitching in her throat, fearing to hear something unbearable.
"I was there. But I couldn't move. I was paralyzed by fear. I just watched from the doorway while William fought for his life." Luke whispered, his eyes distant, lost in a memory of blood and shadows.
"I saw what that monster did to him, and I didn't save him. I could only stand there and promise I wouldn't tell a soul... I let him carry the guilt of the 'murder' alone to keep the family name clean."
Arabella leaned forward, her heart racing with a sickening dread. "What did Liyah's husband do to him, Luke? Why did William have to kill him? Tell me, Luke, please."
Luke looked at her, his face twisted with a decade of suppressed grief and rage. The truth finally tore its way out.
“William was seventeen, a child in his own home, and that man tried to break him. William didn't kill for money or power….. He killed to survive a nightmare."
His lip quivered, a tear rolling down his cheek when that night appeared before his eyes, confessing with a broken tone.
"He... he tried to ravish William, Arabella…
THIRTEEN YEARS AGO.
‘He used to touch him wrongly, make foul comments but William always ignored it. He held himself for us. But, that night, when Auntie was away, her husband… Lennox, he preyed on my brother.’
That night, Luke, who snuck out from his room, caught a familiar sobbing coming from his Uncle’s study.
“William?” Luke whispered to himself and went near the window, the sight shocking him.
William backed away, his breath hitching, his hands trembling against the desk. His uncle’s eyes were glassy with drink and a dark, twisted hunger.
"Don't be difficult, William," the man whispered, his hand reaching out to catch the boy’s shoulder.
"Your father isn't here to protect you anymore. You belong to this house. You belong to me and if you do as I say, I will stop your Auntie from punishing you anymore."
"Do-Don't touch me," William whimpered, his shoulder tensing, declining the touch. He was terrified, searching for a way to run away.
The world was narrowing down to the smell of liquor and the suffocating weight of the man’s grip who roughly turned him around and pressed him down on the table.
“Uncle, no, please, please, don’t do this to me, Uncle.” He sobbed when his shirt was ripped, frightening the teenage boy to the core.
“Shh, shh, relax. It will be over before you know it, William.”
His hand went forward, reaching for the buckle of his belt.
The trauma came in the panic-stricken, animalistic need to survive. As the man’s hands moved with a disgusting familiarity, pressing the boy into him to feel his bulge.
William, who was crying, knew he had to survive at all cost. Luke gasped, covering his mouth, afraid of the horrendous sight.
William saw. His soul froze. He had to fight. He must.
He lowered his head for a second before steadying his breath to clear his vision and extended his hand for the fountain pen on the table.
He didn't think so. He didn't plan. He simply reacted.