Finally, Carlos's car pulled up in front of the large villa overlooking the sea. The engine vibrated one last time before shutting off, leaving only the steady murmur of the waves and the soft whisper of the ocean breeze. Inside the car, a silence settled between them, almost suffocating. Carlos turned toward Chloé and gave her a gentle smile, ready to open the door.
But Chloé hesitated. Her fingers tightened slightly around the strap of her bag, and her eyes shimmered with an emotion even she struggled to understand.
Chloé (hesitant, fragile voice)
— Uh… Carlos, wait… can you give me a hug, please? I don't know if it's the pregnancy, but I really need… someone to hold me right now.
The words fell between them like a confession. Carlos frowned in surprise. For a moment, he thought he had heard her wrong. His eyes reflected both disbelief… and a sincere, almost tender happiness.
Carlos (smiling faintly)
— Of course I can. How could I refuse something like that? Hold on, I'll get out and—
Chloé (emotional, quickly)
— No, stay there… I'll come to you.
Her voice trembled just enough to sound real. She opened the door, and the salty air rushed into the car. With her bag hanging from her arm, she slowly walked around the vehicle, every step precise, calculated. Her heartbeat pounded hard but controlled. She had to stay calm. This was the moment.
Carlos half-opened his door, about to step out, when suddenly—
With a quick, precise movement, almost instinctive, Chloé firmly pressed the cloth-soaked hand against Carlos's nose.
Carlos (breathless, shocked)
— Aaaaah… Chlo… but… aaaaah…
He grabbed Chloé's wrist, trying to push her away, but his muscles were already giving out. His eyes rolled slightly, his breathing became uneven… then nothing. Within seconds, his body collapsed heavily against the seat, his head falling to the side, completely unconscious.
Chloé (slight smile at the corner of her lips)
— Well… that was easier than I thought.
In her ear, Lorenzo's voice echoed, vibrating with concern.
Lorenzo (worried)
— Chloé, is everything okay? Did you manage to knock him out?
Chloé (smiling, confident)
— Yes, boss. Now all that's left… is the rest.
Calmly, she removed the cloth and slipped it back into her bag. Her fingers quickly found the handcuffs and the roll of tape. Everything had been meticulously planned. Without wasting a second, she dropped her bag to the ground, taped Carlos's mouth shut, then cuffed his wrists together. The cold metallic click echoed through the car. Then she crouched down, grabbed his ankles, and locked the second pair of handcuffs around them.
She stood up and stared at Carlos's unconscious body for a moment. No hesitation. No visible remorse.
Chloé (whispering, almost tenderly)
— Val… I'm really sorry. But your cousin deserves this. Nobody walks all over me. I'm Chloé De Santis. Not just anyone.
A silence lingered before Lorenzo's voice returned, slightly trembling with emotion in her earpiece.
Lorenzo (emotional voice)
— Hearing that feels good. I'm proud of you, baby. Keep going. You don't have much time left.
Chloé took a deep breath, regaining an almost icy calm. She shut the car door without another glance at Carlos, leaving him unconscious, gagged, hands and feet restrained in his own seat.
She picked up her bag, removed her gloves with a sharp, precise motion, and slipped them inside before placing the strap back over her shoulder.
For a brief moment, her hand rested on her stomach, an intimate, protective gesture. Then she inhaled deeply, determination visible in every line of her face. Her eyes fixed straight ahead: the villa.
As she entered the courtyard, she spotted a table set near the pool. Glasses lined up neatly, a light tablecloth fluttering in the breeze… and her mother sitting there, back straight, seemingly lost in thought.
Chloé walked forward, every step echoing like a verdict. Every movement was a mix of grace and menace.
Her mother finally looked up, and her face fell apart in shock.
She jumped to her feet, eyebrows furrowed, unable to hide her confusion.
Chloé's Mother (surprised, almost shocked)
— Chloé? You… you're here… You… uh…
Chloé didn't answer. Her gaze was hard, cold, perfectly controlled.
She stopped right in front of her, the shadow of her silhouette reflecting across the elegantly prepared table.
And there… the real battle could finally begin.
Chloé (deep, calm but cutting voice)
— You can stop stuttering. And don't act surprised… I know you were already expecting me. And I also know that unfortunately… you're my mother.
The sentence dropped like a guillotine blade.
Her mother's eyes widened, her breathing hitching for a second. She quickly turned toward her right-hand man, as if searching for an explanation, some kind of anchor.
Chloé's Mother (tense, commanding voice)
— Where's Carlos? He was supposed to—
Chloé (cutting her off coldly)
— He was supposed to bring me back to you. But I decided to take matters into my own hands. And come here alone. Aren't you happy to see me? Isn't this what you wanted?
A heavy silence fell over the courtyard. Chloé's mother stood frozen, lips parted, unable to speak. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. In her plan, Chloé was supposed to arrive innocent, obedient, unaware… manipulable. Instead, she now faced a young woman who knew everything and radiated dangerous calmness.
Chloé slowly placed her bag on the table without breaking eye contact. Every movement was deliberate, controlled. Then she stepped closer until her mother could feel her breath.
With a sharp motion, she pulled out a chair. The wood scraped loudly against the floor, shattering the silence. She sat down with insolent elegance, crossed her legs… then folded her arms. Her eyes locked onto her mother's, piercing and analytical, like an interrogation.
Chloé (powerful voice trembling with restrained anger)
— Under different circumstances, I would've wanted to hug you… jump for joy… or maybe collapse crying in your arms. But this is different. All I feel right now… is anger.
Her mother inhaled deeply, straightening her shoulders. She tried to regain composure, to reclaim her natural authority.
Chloé's Mother (cold, grave voice)
— Fine. No point pretending anymore since you already know who I am.
I thought you had forgotten my face, considering—
Chloé (furious, voice sharp as a blade)
— Considering you abandoned me when I was two years old. Of course I didn't remember you. Not your face either. But I wanted to know. I asked questions. I wanted to see what the most despicable mother on this earth looked like.
The words hit hard.
Her mother felt her anger rise like a burning wave. Her face twisted, jaws clenched, fists tightening until her knuckles whitened. Chloé, meanwhile, remained terrifyingly calm. A statue of controlled fury.
Chloé's Mother (furious, roaring)
— How did you find out Carlos was bringing you to me? Answer me!
Chloé stood abruptly, the chair screeching beneath the impact. Her hands landed on her hips, her eyes blazing with restrained rage.
Chloé (voice vibrating with fury)
— Since we're putting all the cards on the table, why don't you start by explaining how you abandoned me when I was a baby? Or better yet… explain how you built this prostitution network you run… and especially how you planned to involve me in it. I'm listening.
Color rushed to her mother's face, fury boiling in her veins. She sharply turned toward her right-hand man, Franck, who remained perfectly still, hands behind his back, his expression cold and unreadable.
Chloé's Mother (losing patience)
— Franck, can you explain what she's talking about? How does she know about—
Chloé (cutting her off sharply)
— Stop questioning your dog… and have the decency to tell me the truth yourself.
Her mother's gaze became a mixture of rage, hatred, and wounded pride.
Chloé's Mother (authoritative, enraged)
— Little girl, lower your voice!
I remind you that after all, I'm your mother, and—
A dry, broken laugh escaped Chloé's lips.
Chloé (laughing bitterly)
— My mother? How ironic. Don't even try emotional blackmail.
I'm just as intelligent and calculating as you are. I'm not someone you can manipulate. And if you think reminding me that you gave birth to me will make me soften… bad idea. I already know that. And you have no idea how ashamed I am of it. I—
Her mother's hand suddenly shot up, ready to slap her. But with a swift, perfectly controlled motion, Chloé caught her wrist midair. The impact was sharp, violent. Chloé's eyes darkened dangerously.
Chloé (slow, threatening voice)
— You don't have the right to raise your hand against me. That's the first… and last time you try.
She shoved her mother's hand away, making her stumble slightly. The tension between them had become electric, ready to explode.
Chloé's Mother (furious)
— I see you're more rebellious than I imagined. Fine… if you want the truth, you'll get it.
She straightened proudly, as if announcing a victory.
Chloé's Mother
— I do run a prostitution network. And I fully intend to put you in it, because you're my daughter… and now I'm the only parent you have left.
Even though Chloé had already guessed it, the words hit her like a punch to the chest. Her face twisted with emotion. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. Rage burned through her blood, but beneath it, her eyes shimmered with heartbreak she desperately tried to suppress.
Chloé (trembling voice)
— I hate you with all my heart, I—
Her voice broke. The tremor in her words sounded like a suffocated scream.
Her mother let out a cold, cutting laugh.
Chloé's Mother (sarcastic)
— I don't give a damn about your love. And now that you're here, know this: I have no intention of letting you leave.
She stared at her coldly.
Chloé's Mother (cutting voice)
— And that pregnancy you're carrying… I'm going to get rid of it. Believe me, I—
A deep voice suddenly thundered through the courtyard, slicing through the air like lightning.
Lorenzo (deep voice)
— Before you kill my child and touch my wife, you'll have to go through me first.
Lorenzo had just appeared at the entrance of the courtyard. His steps were heavy, measured. His fists were clenched so tightly the veins stood out beneath his skin. His face held only one expression: cold determination.
Behind him walked three police officers in uniform. The tension in the air instantly intensified.
The moment Chloé heard his voice, she turned around. Her face lit up with a mixture of relief and pain. She ran toward him and threw herself into his arms, bursting into tears against his chest. Her fingers clung desperately to his sweater as if afraid he might disappear.
Chloé's mother felt her heart skip a beat when she saw the officers. Her eyes widened with panic. She searched desperately for her right-hand man, hoping he could still save her.
Chloé's Mother (trembling voice)
— Franck… what is all this? Can you explain what—
Franck raised a hand slightly, cutting her off with almost sad calmness.
Franck (calmly)
— I'm really sorry, ma'am, but I—
Lorenzo (imposing voice)
— There's nothing to explain, ma'am. Your right-hand man simply happens to be my spy. And inside that briefcase, the one the officer is holding… is every piece of evidence that will send you to prison for a very long time.
He paused, staring directly into her eyes.
Lorenzo (grave voice)
— So that you finally leave my wife and me alone.
Her eyes snapped toward the officers. One of them indeed carried a black briefcase — the same one Lorenzo had taken when he left the house earlier. A cold sweat slid down the back of her neck.
Chloé's Mother (shaking)
— You've got to be kidding me! Chloé, how dare you allow this? And you, Franck… you betrayed me? You—
One of the officers stepped forward, his expression severe.
Police Officer (grave voice)
— You are under arrest for human trafficking, falsifying identification documents for minors, ordering the attempted murder of Mister Lorenzo, your son-in-law, and money laundering. You have the right to remain silent, otherwise—
Chloé's Mother (screaming)
— No! This can't be happening! You have no proof, I—
She didn't get to finish. The officer violently grabbed her hands and cuffed them. Two other officers restrained her arms firmly. She struggled wildly, her screams tearing through the air, but it was useless.
Still in Lorenzo's arms, Chloé took a deep breath, trying to calm her tears. Slowly, she pulled away from him, wiped her trembling cheeks with the back of her hand, then faced her mother. Her gaze was sad, but steady, almost mature.
Chloé (broken voice)
— I wish this didn't have to happen like this. I wish that… even after abandoning me, you had become a respectable woman, someone I could've been proud of.
She shook her head, eyes overflowing with pain.
Chloé (broken voice)
— But looking at you now… I feel neither pity nor shame. Honestly, I feel like you and I have nothing in common.
Her voice suddenly hardened.
Chloé (sadly)
— To me, you don't even exist anymore. And I hope you change… even if it's behind bars.
Chloé's Mother (furious)
— You can't let these officers arrest me! You—
Chloé (firm voice)
— That's enough. I'm done with you. Officers… please take her away.
Without another word, the police forced her toward the patrol car. Despite her screams and insults, they shoved her into the back seat. Franck was taken away as well.
When the police car finally drove off, calm fell over the villa like a heavy blanket. Silence returned, broken only by Chloé's uneven breathing.
Emotionally drained and shaken, she walked to a chair and collapsed into it. Her hands rubbed nervously against her thighs, searching for stability. Then she burst into tears again.
Lorenzo immediately approached her. He knelt in front of her, gently taking her hands into his, his eyes filled with sincere tenderness.
Lorenzo (softly)
— You were brave, baby. I don't want you feeling guilty about what just happened.
Chloé (crying)
— But it hurts, Lorenzo… it hurts so much. I wanted so badly for her not to be like this. I wanted her not to leave me again. I wanted… a mom. A real one. And instead… I had to hand my own mother over to the police. Even if it was the right thing to do… it hurts.
A sob escaped her, her voice collapsing.
Chloé (broken voice)
— And you know what hurts even more? Hearing her say, right in front of me, that she truly wanted to drag me into her filthy business. That she was capable of saying she'd get rid of my baby.
Lorenzo stayed silent for a moment, unable to find the right words. Then he stood up, gently helping her to her feet before pulling her tightly against him. Very tightly. As if he wanted to absorb her pain and shield her from the entire world.
Chloé (crying softly)
— Hold me tight, Lorenzo… tighter. You're all I have now… you and our child.
He buried his face in her neck, one hand softly caressing her back.
Lorenzo (whispering)
— I'm here… and I'll always be here.
You were so strong… I'm proud of you, my little wife.
Flashback.
To be continued…