Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Christiana’s POV
The encounter with Alex kept replaying in my mind like a relentless loop. It was as if the universe had conspired to drag him back into my life at the most inconvenient moment.
As I walked through the suite of our luxurious hotel, my eyes drifted over the sleek, modern furniture and the expansive view of the city below.
I was trying to focus on finding the perfect penthouse for us, a safe haven away from the chaos Alex had thrust into our lives
The twins were playing in the living area, their laughter echoing through the room, Ethan, with his dark curls and inquisitive eyes, was building a fortress out of blocks, while Emma, with her delicate features and golden hair, carefully arranged her dolls around the structure. For a moment, their innocence was soothing to my troubled heart.
Ethan’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Mommy, when can we see our daddy?” His question was unexpected, piercing through my concentration like a sharp knife.
1 froze, my heart sinking. “Ethan, why do you want to know about him?” I asked, trying to mask the turmoil in my voice.
Ethan looked at me with those earnest eyes, so much like Alex’s. That man we saw at the airport, is he our daddy?”
1 felt a cold wave wash over me. There was no way I could lie my way out of this one. Ethan was firm, his face set in a stubborn expression that mirrored his father’s. I saw him walk over to Emma, who was quietly playing with her toys. “Emma,” he said, “the man at the airport is our daddy.”
Emma’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Are you sure, Ethan?”
Ethan nodded. “I’m sure.”
Emma’s face crumpled as tears filled her eyes. “Why did he leave us? Why does he avoid us?” Her voice trembled with hurt and confusion. “Doesn’t he want to see us? Why did he leave us behind!”
Seeing Emma cry tore at my heart. I sank to the floor beside her, gathering her small frame into my arms. “Sweetheart, it’s complicated,” I said softly, trying to hold back my own tears. “I’m so sorry.” NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.
Ethan stood by his little face firm. “Mommy, tell us the truth. Is he our daddy?”
The weight of the question pressed down on me. I had tried so hard to shield them from the pain of their past, but here they were, demanding answers I wasn’t ready to give. My heart ached as I saw their innocent faces, so full of hope and confusion.
I took a deep breath, my hands trembling as I wiped away Emma’s tears. “Okay,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’ll tell you the truth. That man you saw at the airport… he is your father. But things didn’t work out between us. He left us a long time ago.”
Ethan and Emma looked at me with wide eyes, absorbing the information. “Why?” Emma asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why did he leave us?”
I swallowed hard, searching for the right words. “He and I had problems. He made choices that hurt us. But you two… you tw are my whole world. I’ve been working hard to give you everything you need. Sometimes, people make mistakes and things don’t turn out the way we want them to.”
Ethan’s face scrunched up in determination. “But Mommy, if he’s our daddy, why doesn’t he want to see us?”
I felt the tears slip down my cheeks, and decided not to tell them what Alexander wanted. “I don’t know, Ethan. I wish I could give you a better answer. I only know that right now, it’s best for us to move forward and not dwell on the past.”
Emma’s sobs softened, but the hurt in her eyes remained. “I just wanted to see him, to know why he left us!
I hugged them both tightly, feeling their tiny bodies tremble against mine. “I know, Emma. I know. We’ll get through this together, okay!”
The room was silent except for the sound of our breathing and the city noise outside. The weight of the truth hung heavy in the air, and as I looked at my children, I knew I had to be strong for them, even as my own heart was breaking.
At that moment, all I could think about was how I was going to shield them from further pain and ensure that they felt loved
Chapter II
and secure, no matter what.
As I held Ethan and Emma close, trying to comfort them in our hotel suite, the knock on the door broke the uneasy silence. The city lights outside seemed distant and faint compared to the heaviness that settled in my chest. I opened the door to find one of my guards standing there, holding a letter with a wax seal.
“Ms. Davis, this just arrived,” he said, his expression unreadable.
I took the letter with a nod, my heart pounding. The seal was an ornate design, unmistakably Margaret Alistair’s–imposing and grand. I closed the door behind the guard and carefully peeled away the seal, unfolding the crisp paper inside.
The letter read:
“Ms. Davis,
“It has come to my attention that you have recently become quite a figure in this city. While I have always respected your resilience, certain matters concerning my family require your immediate attention. It is imperative that we meet to discuss these issues and ensure that my family’s reputation is not jeopardized.*
“I expect your cooperation in this matter. Please contact my office to arrange a suitable time for our meeting.”
“Margaret Alistair
Reading those words, unease and defiance surged through me. Margaret had always been a powerful presence in rhy life, her disapproval was obvious from the start of my marriage to Alex. Her gaze had always been cold and judgemental, as if I were an unwelcome guest in her perfect world
I remembered vividly the day she learned of our divorce–the way she had handled my belongings with coldness, discarding them as if they were of no consequence. The harshness in her voice as she delivered her final scornful remarks still echoed in my mind. The memories of her disdain and the way she made me feel like an outsider had never fully faded.
Now, as I read her letter, those old wounds felt fresh. The fear and anger I had tried so hard to leave behind resurfaced, but I wouldn’t let them overwhelm me. I was determined to protect my children from the shadows of my past. Margaret’s influence might be powerful, but I refused to be intimidated.
I looked at Ethan and Emma, their eyes wide with confusion. I had to keep my composure, not just for myself but for them. I resolved to handle whatever Margaret had in store with the same strength and boldness I had used to rebuild my life. She might try to drag me back into the darkness of the past, but I would not let her succeed.
With the letter in hand, I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the confrontation. Margaret might have po
wer,
but I had fought too hard to let her dictate the course of my life.