C 12: There is no place for you in his life

Lydia beckoned to the elderly nanny who was standing quietly on the side to take the baby away.

She then turned to worriedly look at Clinton who had just risen to his feet.

He paced mumbling inaudibles to himself.

White-hot rage boiled up inside him as his mother continued to gloat over her deception. If it had been anyone else revealing they had sabotaged his wedding in such a cruel, calculating way, he might have struck them without a second thought.

But this was his own mother, smugly relishing in the destruction she had wrought on his life. What could he possibly do to her? Hitting her was unthinkable, despite how much she may deserve it. He could only glare at Constance, hands clenched into trembling fists at his sides.

The sheer audacity of her actions left him feeling gutted and impotent. She had willingly, gleefully demolished his marriage - his reality - all under the guise of "protecting" him. As if she had any right to make that choice.

Yet Constance appeared utterly unbothered by his simmering fury. She met his heated stare with a challenging look, daring him to act.

They both knew any violence or disrespect from him would only vindicate her twisted narrative further.

So Clinton could only stand there, seething in humiliated silence as the mother he once trusted and admired paraded her betrayal without an ounce of shame or remorse.

"How could you do this?"

Constance sneered. "What's with the attitude?"

"You sabotaged my marriage! You had no right!"

Constance cackled loudly. "No right? I had every right! What, are you telling me you actually loved Monique?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Don't be a hypocrite. Instead of the sticky eye, you should be thanking me."

Clinton recoiled as if struck. "Thanking you? For demolishing my life behind my back?"

"I saved you from that conniving witch!" Constance shot back, her voice rising. "You never truly loved her. You just loved the idea of her - her looks, her status. But deep down, you know it's true. If you really loved Monique, you never would have cheated."

The barb hit its mark, shame flashing across Clinton's face before anger hardened his features once more. "That's no excuse! You manipulated and deceived me!"

Constance was unmoved. "And I'm not sorry, not one bit. Now set a date for your wedding to Lydia. I think you two should get the marriage certificate first before the ceremony itself."

Clinton opened his mouth to protest, but Constance barreled on. "How does the day after tomorrow sound?" She turned eager eyes to Lydia. "I think that timeline works perfectly, don't you dear?"

Lydia tensed, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as both Clinton and his domineering mother looked her way. She shot Clinton a helpless glance, silently pleading for him to rein in his mother's runaway plans. But Clinton's own expression was one of disbelieving outrage.

"Mother, you can't be serious!" he finally burst out. "My marriage to Monique might have been a sham, but that doesn't erase the years I invested in it. We have property to share as well as Sahara's custody to think about.’’

Constance simply tsked dismissively. "You can still do all that while planning for your wedding. The future is what matters now. I'll have the justice of the peace lined up by tomorrow..."

As mother and son continued arguing, their raised voices clashing like a thunderstorm, Lydia shrank back on the couch. She was witnessing Constance's overpowering forcefulness for the first time.

She couldn't help but wonder, to what terrifying heights she was willing to go to get her way.

Clearly, she would brook no opposition when it came to getting her way, no matter how ruthlessly she had to force the issue. A knot formed in Lydia's belly as she realized just how trapped they all were in Constance's viselike machinations.

Seeing Clinton helpless against his overbearing mother, Lydia summoned her courage to interject. "Mom, there's no need to rush things. Why don't we take this slowly?"

Constance snorted derisively. "What a bunch of nonsense. There's no room for taking things slow." Her eyes glinted with fevered determination. "You two need to be married as soon as possible. I am getting myself the perfect daughter-in-law this time around. I want everything to be top-notch and proper."

Clinton shot Lydia an apologetic look before arguing, "We have to consider Sahara's feelings too, Mom. This is affecting her as well."

Constance wheeled on him, sneering. "Now you think about her feelings? It's not until now that I realize what a blasted hypocrite you are." She jabbed an accusatory finger. "You should have cared about her feelings the first time thoughts of cheating on her mother entered your wretched mind!"

Lydia shrank back, staring at the floor as the conversation dredged into deeply uncomfortable territory. She wasn't proud of being the other woman who helped ruin a family. Each time she gazed at her son, guilt over Sahara and Monique lanced through her.

If it were up to her, Lydia would have preferred they lay low for a while to sort through this mess respectfully. But Clinton couldn't wait to start anew, to share his scandalous "freedom" with the world. As much as it pained her, she couldn't entirely fault him for that driving need.

Mustering her courage once more, Lydia tentatively offered, "How about in two weeks? We could get the certificate then and begin planning the wedding properly after that."

"This Friday," Constance stated flatly, brooking no argument. "In two days' time."

The young couple exchanged worried glances, realizing there was no dissuading the force of nature before them.

Like a relentless early bird fixated on its prize worm, Constance chirped on, undeterred. "Wonderful, now we're all on board! Let's brainstorm some ideas." She was already running away with the demented fantasy.

"First, we need to schedule the christening ceremony for baby Alexander. I think a month from now works perfectly. Then we can have the wedding itself a week after that! How does that sound?" She looked around expectantly. "Great, right?"

Feeling trapped, Lydia mumbled something about putting the baby down for a nap and rose shakily to her feet. She knew it was futile to argue with Constance in this terrifying, irrational state.

"I'll come with you," Clinton said in a low voice, equally cowed.

Just then, and elderly maid entered with a small smile. "You have visitors, sir. A Ms. Louise and Ms. Sahara, here to see you."

The room fell deathly silent as three stricken faces turned toward the doorway.

Sahara stood behind the maid, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she stared at her father in disbelief. Louise's lips were pressed into a razor-thin line, shooting them all an icy glare of pure contempt.

In that endless, horrific moment, realization set in for everyone - Sahara must have heard everything.

Clinton looked as if he'd been struck, his face draining of color. "Sahara..." he croaked out, taking a stumbling step forward. But the devastated look in his daughter's eyes stopped him in his tracks.

Lydia clapped a hand over her mouth in horror, shrinking back. She had known her relationship with Clinton was built on lies and betrayal, but seeing the truth's fallout play out so vividly made her stomach churn.

Constance sneered, showing no remorse at being caught red-handed. In fact, this seemed to have played out just as she would have preferred. She barely spared a glance at her devastated granddaughter - and even then, her gaze was laced with outright hostility.

Examining her perfectly manicured nails, Constance stated flatly, "You heard it all, didn't you?"

"Mom, please stop this," Clinton begged, looking anguished. He took a tentative step towards Sahara, but she immediately recoiled, shaking her head furiously as tears brimmed in her eyes. Another step forward earned him several stumbling steps back from the terrified girl.

His own daughter now stared at him like he was a complete monster.

"Princess, please come here," he pleaded hopelessly. "We need to talk about this."

Constance's voice cut through like a razor. "Since you heard it all, I'll only say this once. There is no place for you and your mother in this family anymore."

A chorus of outraged shouts exploded at once.

"Mom!"

"Mother!"

"Mrs. Constance!"

But Constance ignored them all, instead pinning the five-year-old Sahara with a terrifying, steely gaze. Tears rolled down the little girl's cheeks, but Constance seemed utterly unmoved by her granddaughter's distress.

"In two days' time, your father is going to marry his son's mother," she stated bluntly. "If your mother has any shame left, tell her to stay far away him."

Clinton rounded on her, aghast. "You've gone too far!"

But Constance simply shrugged, unrepentant. "Have I now?"

Her callous indifference seemed to sap all the oxygen from the room. Even Louise looked briefly shaken before reassuming a protective stance in front of the devastated Sahara.

The silence thickened, nobody daring to move or even breathe too loudly.

Tears welled up in Sahara's eyes, and she turned, fleeing from the room. Louise shot one final withering look at Clinton before swiftly following after her.