Monica grabbed the phone and glanced at the name on the screen. It was Dalin—her stepmother. A chill ran through her. Why was Dalin calling Saroath's phone? Without hesitating, she answered.
"Hello?"
"Monica," Dalin's voice came through, calm yet firm. "You have her phone, don't you?"
"Yes," Monica replied cautiously, "Come to my ro…."
Before Monica could finished, Dalin hung up. Moments later, there was a knock at her door.
"Come in," Monica called out.
Dalin entered, wearing her nightdress, her expression guarded and unreadable.
"You know her phone has always been with Dad until now, right?" Monica asked, watching her stepmother closely.
"Yes," Dalin said without flinching.
"So, what are you going to do?"
"I'm glad you have it," Dalin said, her tone shifting. "I need to tell you something, and I don't want your dad involved in Saroath's case anymore."
Monica's eyes narrowed. "What is it you want to tell me?"
Dalin hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"A few days before she died, Saroath contacted me. We met outside. She asked me for $50,000."
"What?" Monica's voice rose in shock.
"I asked her why she needed it," Dalin continued, her voice tinged with confusion.
"But she wouldn't tell me. Just said it was urgent and promised to pay it back. I was going to discuss it with you, but... she's gone now."
"Maybe she needed money to pay a debt when the video footage of her son was leaked, and the lender needed her to pay?" Monica suggested, continuing.
"Or, is that the money you and dad gave her to run the business that failed?"
"No way!" Dalin rejected.
Monica's suspicion deepened, her mind racing. Something wasn't adding up.
"Why did you want her phone?" Dalin asked, her voice sharp.
"You don't need to know," Monica shot back coldly.
Dalin's eyes narrowed. "I see. And I hope it has nothing to do with you."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You know exactly what I mean," Dalin said, her tone dripping with accusation.
Monica chuckled darkly. "Hush. You know her better than I do. She even asked you for money. Maybe you should be watching yourself."
Dalin's expression hardened. "I'm worried about you. Dara's video footage appeared briefly earlier, only to vanish again. And with his mother's death... Do you really think Dara won't act?"
Monica's eyes flashed. "You're blaming me for all of this? Hey, look at me—"
"I know you're not that cheap," Dalin interrupted, her voice rising. "But you're reckless, bitchy!"
Monica smirked. "You're the one who taught me."
"You're just like your father," Dalin hissed.
"And you?" Monica snapped. "Stick to your own business and stay away from me."
"How can I?" Dalin countered. "I need to keep a close eye on you—on your actions, your motives."
"I can do whatever I want. I'm not your daughter! Stop acting like you can mother me!"
"I am your stepmother," Dalin shot back. "And your superior. If you keep acting like a spoiled child, pulling cheap tricks, I can have you fired in an instant. Watch yourself, and keep me updated."
"That's sh*t!" Monica spat.
"What did you say?"
"Who are you to control me?" Monica's voice trembled with anger. "You're just the second wife. I'm not a pawn you can play with."
Dalin stepped closer, her tone ice-cold. "Then play. Play to your heart's content. But let's see how far you get before you end up back with your mother."
Monica's eyes blazed. "Don't you dare mention my mother again!"
"And what if I do?" Dalin challenged, her lips curling into a taunting smile.
Monica raised her hand, poised to slap Dalin, but her stepmother was faster. Dalin caught her wrist tightly, her grip firm and unyielding.
"I told you," Dalin hissed through clenched teeth, "don't act like a child. Don't be bad. Stay humble and honest with me, or you'll hit a dead end. Now, f** off.*"
Monica smirked bitterly, her mocking smile full of defiance. "You think you can end me? You won't be able to."
"Act like the person you've always wanted to be, Monica," Dalin said sharply, "to make your mom proud, right? Otherwise — Don't dare to play with me, I'm running out of patience with your stupidity."
Monica froze, her words cutting deeper than she expected. But instead of responding, she clenched her fists, her jaw tightening, refusing to let her emotions betray her.
Dalin threw her hand aside, glaring, but Monica wasn't finished.
"Fifty thousand dollars, and you were going to discuss it with me first?" Monica sneered. "Come on, Stepmom. Don't pretend to be innocent. It's so cringeworthy, it makes my skin crawl."
"You'll regret this, Sarcastic!" Dalin shot back, her voice low and ominous.
Monica shrugged and turned away. "I need to sleep. I have a meeting tomorrow."
Dalin stared at her for a moment longer, but seeing no room to push further, she turned and walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence.
***
On the other side of the dimly lit corridor, Marina stood pressed against the cool wall, hidden in the shadows.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she strained to catch every word exchanged between her older sister and stepmother. The tension, the venom in their voices—it was unlike anything she had ever witnessed before.
Fear crept into her, chilling her to the bone. How did it come to this? How could two people in the same family despise each other so deeply? The thought terrified her.
Her knees felt weak, and she pressed her back harder against the wall, trying to steady herself. Her mind raced, overthinking every word, every possible outcome.
"My dear," Mr. Heng's voice came from behind, startling Marina. She spun around, her heart leaping to her throat, and nearly screamed.
"Dad," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
Heng stepped closer, his expression soft, and gently took her trembling hand. "Come with me, my sweetheart."
"Yes," she murmured, her voice shaking.
He led her down the corridor and into the quiet, warmly lit study. The scent of old books filled the air as they sat face to face on the leather sofa by the bookcase. Heng reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Marina's face.
"Marina," he said gently.
"Dad, I'm so sad…" she choked out, her voice breaking.
Heng sighed deeply, his face clouded with regret. "It's okay," he said softly. "Both of them are losing themselves in their own battles, but by tomorrow, things will return to normal. You don't have to get caught up in it. Just focus on your work and your dreams, my darling."
Marina wiped her eyes, her lips quivering. "But why has my sister become like this?"
Heng's shoulders slumped as he looked down, his voice heavy with guilt. "It's because of me, Marina. I made her this way... It's all my fault."
Marina's tears began to fall. "What do you mean, Dad?"
"She grew up under pressure," Heng explained, his tone bitter and filled with self-reproach. "She lived in an environment of strict rules, of pain—caught in the agony of me and your mom's divorce. And neither of us gave her the love and care she deserved. We neglected her, Mari. Both of us."
Marina's tears flowed freely now, her small frame shaking with emotion. She buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed by the weight of her father's confession and the heartbreak of her family's fractured bond.
"As you remember," Heng began, his voice heavy with regret, "it's been almost 15 years since your sister left your mom and came back to live with me. She told me she wanted to be strong, to prove she could run a company on her own." He sighed deeply, his expression pained. "She used to be so bright, so smart, and soft-hearted when she was nine or ten. But after the divorce… She fell into depression. It was hell for her."
Marina wiped her tears and said quietly, "But my sister has always been kind to me, to Mom, and to our family."
"Yes," Heng admitted, nodding slowly. "I know. She plays her role as best as she can, but it's all shaped by the circumstances she's faced. She's still smart. She's still kind, even if she hides it under that armor."
Marina gave a small, sad smile. "Yes… I believe that too."
"So, dad doesn't want to see you stuck in an environment like hers," Heng said, his voice tender but firm. He reached out and held Marina's hands tightly. "I set you free, so you can be anything you want. Okay?"
Marina nodded silently, her tear-streaked face softening at his words.
"Good," Heng said with a faint smile. "Now, go to sleep and don't overthink everything."
"Yes, dad. You should rest too," Marina replied softly.
"I will, my darling," Heng said, gently patting her head before she stood up.
Marina gave him a small smile before leaving the study, her heart a little lighter but still weighed down by the shadows lingering in their family. Heng watched her go, his own thoughts heavy as he leaned back into the sofa, lost in quiet reflection.
***