CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:THE RECKONING IN THE DARK

Leon's gaze was locked onto mine, a storm of emotions raging behind his eyes. The love I had manipulated into his heart was evident, but so was the guilt—the weight of his sins pressing down on him. His breathing grew erratic, his chest rising and falling as if the very air around us had thickened.

His voice, though laced with tension, remained steady. "How did you escape from prison? And… how long have you been pretending to be Elena?"

I tilted my head slightly, allowing a slow, knowing smile to creep onto my lips. "Do you remember the day you came to mock me in prison?" I asked, my voice sweet with the memory of my own suffering. "I told you… you would pay for this."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it lacked the confidence it once held. "I don't pay for anything," he murmured darkly.

I stepped closer, my hand grazing my stomach. "You will. Because I'm carrying your child."

His entire body tensed. Pain flickered across his face—regret, disbelief, something deeper than even he could understand. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and for a brief moment, he looked like a man at war with himself.

I drank in his suffering like a fine wine, letting it fill me with a twisted satisfaction. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Before I forget… I killed your fake mother. Elena's mother."

His breath hitched. He stumbled back, eyes wide, searching my face for a lie. "No…" His voice was hoarse. "You… you wouldn't."

I let out a small chuckle, enjoying his torment. "I would. I did." My smile deepened. "She was trying to prove I wasn't Elena. I couldn't have that."

Leon's face contorted in something beyond rage. Beyond grief. "When did you learn to use a knife?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"At prison," I answered simply, tilting my head. "But I never needed a knife to kill."

Something inside him broke. His posture weakened, his shoulders slumped, and I knew—I had won.

Silence wrapped around us like a heavy fog. He was drowning in his own pain, and I reveled in it. My heart swelled with a dark, vicious joy.

But I wasn't done.

With one final smile, I grabbed a wooden plank from the ground, gripping it tightly. Before he could react, I swung it against his temple.

His body jerked, his knees buckling. His face twisted in shock as he stumbled backward. And then, like a lifeless doll, he collapsed onto the ground.

I wasted no time. With the strength of adrenaline, I dragged his unconscious body toward the house gates. The air was thick with tension, and I could hear the distant murmurs of guards patrolling. If they found me now, everything would be over.

But I couldn't stop. Not yet.

Releasing my grip, I let Leon's body slump against the cold metal of the gate. He was breathing, but barely.

I stood there for a moment, watching him, memorizing this moment—the moment the great Leon had finally fallen.

And then, without looking back, I ran.

The night air was thick with tension as I fled, the weight of my actions pressing heavily upon me. The forest around me seemed to close in, each rustle of leaves a reminder of the chaos I'd left behind. My heart pounded in my chest, not just from the exertion but from the realization of the irreversible path I'd chosen.

As dawn approached, I found temporary refuge in an abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town. The walls, though crumbling, offered a semblance of safety. I sank to the floor, my mind racing with fragmented thoughts. The image of Leon's pained expression haunted me, a stark contrast to the satisfaction I once felt.

Days turned into nights, and the isolation became a mirror, reflecting the depth of my deception.

The fake pregnancy, the murder of Elena's mother, the manipulation—it all weighed heavily on my conscience. Sleep eluded me, replaced by restless pacing and whispered regrets and not satisfied.