C 11: She's a manipulative bitch

''Well, look like the cookies are ready, Your Highness!" Louise announced playfully, placing the golden brown treats on the counter.

Sahara's eyes sparkled with delight. "Wow, they look delicious, Louise! Can we call Daddy now ma ma?"

Monique hesitated. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions. Clinton's betrayal and the raw wound from Constance's visit still throbbed.

But looking at her daughter's innocent face, filled with a longing to see her father, Monique knew it was imperative to put her personal feelings aside.

Picking up the phone, her trembling fingers hesitated for a second over the dial pad before she dialed Clinton's number. Ring after ring filled the room, each unanswered call adding to the knot of tension in Monique 's stomach. After several attempts, a defeated sigh escaped her lips.

"Honey, maybe Daddy's at work and he's busy," Monique explained gently, trying to mask her disappointment.

Truth be told, this was nothing new. It had happened before, one too many times in the past. She has always believed he was busy with work and had tried to be understanding when they could not reach him, however knowing what she knew now, she wondered how many of those time had he purposely blown them off?

And now? Was he really busy with work or were they playing second fiddle to his new family?

Sahara's smile faltered, a flicker of sadness clouding her eyes. She took a small bite of the cookie, the sweetness unable to chase away the disappointment.

"I have an idea!" Louise exclaimed, her voice breaking the silence.

Both Monique and Sahara turned to her with curious expressions.

"Why don't we surprise Daddy? I bet he'd be thrilled to see you, especially with these delicious cookies."

Sahara's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Can we go, Mommy?"

Monique glanced at Louise, a silent question hanging in the air. Louise offered a reassuring smile, understanding the conflict in her friend's eyes.

''You look like you are in desperate need of some shut eye. I will drive her if you don't mind.''

"Thank you, go on and change into something warmer,'' she told her daughter.

"Yay!" Sahara cheered, throwing her arms around Monique's neck.

Monique held her daughter close, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. There was still uncertainty surrounding her relationship with Clinton, but the love for her daughter was unwavering.

She took a deep breath, pushing aside the doubts. In that moment, the warmth of her daughter's embrace and the scent of freshly baked cookies offered a flicker of hope.

Ten minutes later, Louise was behind the wheel of the family van, heading towards Clinton's place, a delicious aroma and two determined hearts aboard.

Meanwhile, across town, while Sahara waited with childish anticipation for her mother's call to connect, in Clinton's living room, a scene of quiet contentment unfolded.

Clinton cradled their newborn son, humming a lullaby, while Lydia, with her head resting on his shoulder, watched them.

Clinton's heart was brimming with love.

The peaceful moment was disrupted by the insistent ring of a phone. Clinton glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing as he saw Monique's name.

Lydia, sensing his hesitation, offered a gentle smile. "It could be important, Clinton. Perhaps it's Monique calling about Sahara."

Clinton considered her words, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over him. He hadn't spoken to Sahara since their last visit, and the memory still stung.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the room as Constance entered the lounge. Her gaze fell upon the phone, and a flicker of recognition crossed her face.

"Who is it?" she inquired crisply, though her piercing look revealed she already suspected.

"It's Monique," Clinton muttered.

Constance's expression hardened, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Ignore her," she snapped.

Clinton hesitated, his finger hovering over the answer button. He hadn't spoken to Sahara since their botched visit to the company .

"It could be about Sahara."

Constance scoffed. "And what does that have to do with you now?"

Clinton met her icy gaze. "Sahara is still my daughter, regardless of what’s happened between Monique and me. Or did you forget your own words about treating her fairly?"

Constance crossed her arms. "That was before I realized what a manipulative bitch that woman is. You can't have your cake and eat it too," Constance said sharply. She shot a pointed look at Lydia cradling the baby. "They should be your top priority now."

Lydia, tensed when Constance's piercing gaze fell on her.

Clinton's jaw tightened. "I have no intention of abandoning Sahara. She's still my daughter."

Constance sneered. "And it's that very daughter Monique will use to trap you."

Clinton looked at his mother, puzzled. "You used to be fond of Monique. What happened? Did she offend you somehow?"

Constance scoffed, her brow creasing. "I saw through her act. She puts on a good show, but it's all calculated manipulation."

She paced, her eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with contempt. "Monique is really something else. I can't believe it took her this long to react." She paused, muttering under her breath. "What is that scheming witch planning now?"

Clinton's head snapped up. "What did you say, Mom?"

"Nothing," Constance replied dismissively. "Anyway, I think it's about time you two set a date for your wedding."

Clinton and Lydia exchanged puzzled looks.

"It's too early for that," Clinton said. "Monique and I haven't even started divorce proceedings yet."

Constance waved her hand. "You don't need to worry about that."

The young couple cast her quizzical gazes.

Constance sighed heavily, as if the weight of her deception was too much to bear. "You'll find out sooner or later anyway. Your marriage to Monique was a sham."

Clinton jolted to his feet in shock, nearly dropping the baby in his arms. Lydia grabbed the child, her eyes wide with alarm.

"What are you talking about?" Clinton demanded. "My marriage was perfectly legal!"

Constance lifted her chin defiantly. "I knew from the start Monique was not the right woman for you. So I took matters into my own hands."

Dread crashed over Clinton like a tidal wave. "What did you do?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Constance met his fury unflinchingly. "I saved you. The officiant at your wedding was an actor I hired. A brilliant plan to spare you from that cold, heartless witch."

Clinton reeled, grasping for something to steady himself. His marriage, his life - all a lie crafted by the woman before him.

"But...why?" he choked out. "Why would you do this?"

Constance tilted her head, as if the answer were obvious. "I told you - I did you a favor. You didn't love Monique enough anyway."

Anger boiled up in Clinton. "You had no right!"

Constance shrugged, indifferent. "I did it and it's done."

Overwhelmed, Clinton collapsed into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. His mother had ripped his reality apart on a whim.

Realization hit him as he looked up; the vile and hateful woman before him seemed like a stranger, making it even more challenging to reconcile her with the once-gentle image of his mother.