Chapter 21: A heart of vengeance

Angelic stood alone in front of her father’s freshly dug grave, the cold wind whipping around her, as if echoing the turmoil inside her heart. Dressed in a black dress that seemed to absorb the light around her, she was the picture of mourning and silent rage. Her twins, Monic and George, stood nearby, their small faces etched with confusion and sadness. The somber ceremony had been too much for them to understand fully, and Angelic knew they needed her now more than ever.

“Monic, George, both of you go to the car first. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Angelic said, her voice trembling but firm.
Monic’s eyes searched her mother’s face, sensing the storm of emotions beneath her composed exterior. “Okay, Mommy,” she whispered, taking George’s hand and leading him away.
As the car door shut behind her children, Angelic’s composed facade cracked. She fell to her knees, her fingers clawing at the cold, hard earth of her father’s grave. Tears streamed down her face, hot and bitter, each drop a testament to the depth of her pain and loss.

“Dad,” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I should have protected you. I should have been there.”

Memories of her childhood flooded her mind—the times when Arthur was her hero, the strong figure who taught her everything she knew about resilience and strength. She remembered the times they laughed together, the moments when he would lift her onto his shoulders and tell her stories of brave warriors and clever queens. Those memories, once so sweet, now felt like shards of glass cutting into her heart.
Her sorrow quickly turned to a burning rage. She clenched her fists, the nails digging into her palms, grounding her in her fury. “I swear,” she muttered through gritted teeth, “I will find the man who did this to you. I will make him pay for every ounce of pain he’s caused. No one will escape my wrath.”

Angelic stood, her eyes dry now but blazing with a fierce determination. The grief that had threatened to consume her had been transformed into a relentless drive for revenge. She looked up at the sky, as if drawing strength from the heavens above, and made a silent vow to her father.
“I will avenge you, Dad. This is my promise.”

As she turned to leave, the weight of her vow settled over her like a mantle. She was no longer just a grieving daughter; she was a warrior, armed with the pain of her loss and the fire of her vengeance. She walked to the car where her children waited, their presence reminding her of the innocence she needed to protect.

Inside the car, Angelic pulled Monic and George close, kissing their heads and whispering words of comfort. “We’ll be okay,” she assured them, even as her heart ached. “Mommy’s here. I’ll protect you both.”
The drive home was silent, the twins sensing their mother’s need for quiet. Once they were safely inside the mansion, Angelic retreated to her room, the solitude a bitter solace. She needed a plan, a way to track down the man responsible for her father’s death.

Her mind raced through possibilities, her network of contacts, and the resources at her disposal. She knew she couldn’t do it alone. She needed someone she could trust, someone who had the skills and the resolve to help her in her quest for justice.

A name surfaced in her mind: Marcelino. Despite the bitter words she had hurled at him, a part of her knew that he genuinely cared for her. His loyalty, albeit misplaced in her moment of grief, was unwavering. Could she put aside her anger and use his help to achieve her goals?

She dialed Marcelino’s number, her fingers trembling slightly. The phone rang, and for a moment, she feared he wouldn’t answer. But then his voice came through, filled with concern and a hint of hope.
“Mariam?” he said, using the name that felt so foreign to her now. “Are you okay?”
“Marcelino,” she began, her voice steadying as she spoke. “I need your help.”

There was a pause, a moment of silence where she could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. “Anything,” he replied. “What do you need?”
“I need to find the man responsible for my father’s death,” she said, her voice hardening with resolve. “I need to make him pay.”
Marcelino hesitated, sensing the intensity of her emotions. “I’ll help you, Mariam. But promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“That you won’t lose yourself in this quest for revenge. Your father wouldn’t want that.”
Angelic closed her eyes, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. “I promise,” she lied, knowing that her need for vengeance was the only thing keeping her going. “Just help me find him.”
But Marcelino didn’t agree. “I can’t, Mariam. I can’t let you go down that path.”

Angelic’s eyes flashed with anger. “Fine! This is the last time I ask you for help. Goodbye!” She ended the call abruptly, her frustration boiling over.
Left with no other option, she decided to contact the mysterious man directly. She dialed the numbers she had, but each one was out of coverage. Her heart pounded with frustration and fear until her phone finally rang, displaying another unknown number. She knew it was him—the man behind her father’s death. She answered it, her hand trembling.

“I know that you are trying to reach out to me. Remember, you are still under my surveillance every move,” the man said, his voice cold and mocking.
Angelic wasn’t surprised. This man was her enemy, and all the people he served were her enemies. She knew how powerful they were, but she wanted revenge for her father.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

“Simple,” the man replied. “Come back here, and I will let you know who Marcelino really is.”
Angelic’s heart skipped a beat. Despite her hesitation, she felt a burning need to uncover the truth. The possibility of understanding who Marcelino truly was, and perhaps gaining leverage against him, was too tempting to ignore. She glanced at her father’s pale face one last time before making her decision. This might be the only way to secure her father's safety and finally get answers.
Upon arriving, the gate opened for her once more. The opulence of the estate seemed more sinister this time, each elegant flower and pristine surface a stark contrast to the darkness she felt encroaching on her life. She made her way inside, every step heavy with trepidation.

The man awaited her in the same grand room, his demeanor calm and confident. “Welcome back, Angelic. I see your curiosity has overcome your hesitation.”
“Just tell me,”She demanded, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. “Who is Marcelino?”
The man’s lips curled into a sinister smile. “Marcelino is not who you think he is. He’s not the loving, concerned partner you believe him to be. He’s been working against you from the start, manipulating you for his own gain.”