“Mom, you’re talking about motherly love and filial piety. Maybe take a good look in the mirror before you preach. If people in Trurgh hear about this, they’ll laugh you right out of town.”
Smack! The slap came hard and fast.
Rosalyn struck her across the face with everything she had.
Estela’s head snapped to the side. A bright red handprint bloomed on her pale cheek.
It all happened so suddenly, no one had time to react.
“Mom! What are you doing?” Vance rushed forward, grabbing Rosalyn’s arm.
Josh and Rowena stood frozen, eyes wide with shock.
But in Phoebe’s eyes, there was a flicker of
smug satisfaction.
Estela slowly turned her face back and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with her fingertips. The ehill in her eyes cut through the room like a blade, sharp and unforgiving–no one could meet her gaze.
“Out of respect, I’ll call you ‘Mom‘ one last time,” she said coldly. “But if you’re looking for some stray you can slap around at will, go ahead and tell your son to speed up the divorce.”
Rosalyn froze, unsettled by her eyes. ‘How could this wretched girl change so much in just a few days?‘ she wondered.
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“Oh, and while you’re at it, maybe ask your darling son and precious grandson why that fever hasn’t broken yet.”
Estela stood in front of them, arms folded, chin slightly raised. Even with a fresh slap mark burning red across her face, she looked anything but defeated.
She wasn’t backing down–she was done playing nice.
Her words hit their mark. Vance and Josh’s expressions shifted instantly.
Vance’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth.”
He knew what she was implying, but this wasn’t the place. Josh was the future heir of the Leon family–some things couldn’t be said out loud.
Rosalyn picked up on his hesitation, quickly switching tactics. She clutched her chest, wailing dramatically, “Vance, just look at the kind of wife you married! Divorce her! You must divorce her!”
Vance caught her before she could stumble, his face clouded with frustration. “Estela, do you have to make a scene like this?”
His tone was cold, impatient. “Yes, Mom slapped you. That was wrong. But she’s still your elder. What happened to the respectful, obedient daughter–in–law you used to be? Do you really have to blow everything out of proportion?”
Estela wasn’t surprised–not even a little.
Every single time she and Rosalyn had clashed, Vance had always stood on Rosalyn’s side.
Even when he saw her get hit, he’d stay calm and neutral, treating it like both sides were equally to blame.
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No–worse than that. He’d force her to bow her head and apologize afterward.
And right on cue, he said, “Apologize to Mom, and we’ll put this behind us.”
Estela just looked at him. Looked at the man she’d bent over backward for over the past six years.
‘This is who I have been protecting, enduring for. How blind have I been?‘ she thought.
Her silence made Vance uncomfortable. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Estela replied flatly, “Checking to see what’s wrong with my eyes.”
Vance was speechless.
The two children had stayed silent through it all, too scared to say a word.
Josh tugged on his father’s sleeve. “Dad. let’s just go back.”
“Yes, Vance,” Phoebe said gently. “This is a private floor. Let’s head downstairs and talk.”
Vance nodded, snapping out of it, his eyes drifting to the tightly closed hospital room.
The Leon family’s business had long been based in Zrefast. Their foundation in Trurgh wasn’t nearly as deep as the old–money families rooted here.
But the Rangel family was different. Unlike those century–old dynasties, they were newer players–only relocating to Trurgh from overseas in the past few decades. And yet in just ten years, they’d risen
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to the very top.
They were the face of new wealth–now leading the city’s elite Four Great Families.
Vance had hoped to use this trip home to build ties with them. But thanks to the chaos in his own household, he hadn’t even had a chance to pay a proper visit.
He needed to sit down and talk to Estela soon. Calm things down. Get her back in line.
If she went back to how she used to be, he wouldn’t mind giving a little ground.
“Let’s go,” he said.
But Estela didn’t move.
The others waited for her.
Rosalyn, already impatient, sneered, “If she won’t leave, just let the Rangel family’s security throw her out.”
Then she pointed at the lunch box sitting on the bench. “And take the soup. If that wretched girl’s good for anything, it’s that her soup’s actually decent.”
Vance didn’t see a problem with it.
The soup had been made for Josh anyway. It’d be a decent excuse for Estela to back off without losing face.
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