The Ruthless Heir

Erica’s [POV]

I’m a wreck of nerves when I squeeze Santi in the first hug I’ve given him in so long. A weird sound strangles my throat, betraying my emotions, and he pats me awkwardly in an attempt to comfort me.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I croak.

“I know,” he answers. “I’ve missed you too.”

I hold him at arm’s length, examining him. He’s still the same scarred man who crawled from the ashes of the wreckage that imploded our lives. But something about the way he carries himself is lighter. Though his eyes are no less intense.

“You look different,” I observe.

He shifts. “A lot has changed.”

I force a stiff nod, understanding tension still lingers between us as my eyes roam to Ivy. She’s sitting across the room with Elena, and I force a smile, hoping she can see it’s genuine.

“When can I meet my niece?”

“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” Santi answers.

I can feel my chest caving in, pain lancing through me, and Judge seems to sense it too as his hand settles on my back. At least, that’s until my brother notices it, and the warmth of Judge’s comfort falls away.

“Mercedes will behave,” he assures Santiago in an authoritative tone. “And she would very much like to meet her niece if you’ll let her.”

Santi’s gaze moves to Ivy, and mine does too. It’s in her hands, and I understand that. I’d also understand if she said no, but she’s a better person than I am. She rises from her chair, rocking Elena in her arms as she approaches, but Santi intercepts her halfway. His hand settles on her hip as he leans down to whisper in her ear.

I wait quietly while she answers him, her eyes on mine. I feel like I’m frozen in place as she finally approaches me, and it’s hard to know what to do. I want to thank her, but I don’t know how.

“Ivy,” I choke out a clumsy greeting. “I’m happy to see you are recovering well.”

“Is that so?” Ivy returns, her voice not completely absent of the ice I deserve.

“Yes.” I dip my head, trying not to let myself get crazy emotional. “I know I can be a spoiled, jealous bitch sometimes, okay? I can admit, I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, and for that I am sorry. But you make my brother very happy, and I see that you’re here to stay, so I would like to try to get to know you. If you’ll let me.”

Ivy seems surprised by my admission, but her face softens, and I want to believe this bridge hasn’t burned entirely.

“I think that would be beneficial for all of us,” she says, shifting Elena so I can see her. “This is your niece, Elena Frances De La Rosa.”

“She’s beautiful.” I bring a trembling hand to my lips, tears filling my eyes. “Can I hold her for a minute?”

Ivy looks at Santi, and he nods back at her. “That’s up to you.”

She considers it for a moment and then helps me take the small bundle into my arms. I stare down at her in awe, marveling at her innocence. That sweet baby smell. My heart floods with warmth, and I know everyone can see it. The tension radiating from Judge beside me is palpable, but I only have eyes for my beautiful niece. She’s truly amazing, and more than anything, I know I want and need to be a part of her life.

“One day, you will have your own,” Santi murmurs approvingly.

He couldn’t have any idea how much his words terrify me. I know he’s thinking way into the future, but at some point, he will learn it isn’t that far off at all. Hoping they can’t see the flush crawling down my neck, I crack a joke.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Maybe I’ll have a whole brood of them. Ten little monsters just like me.”

Santi snorts at the notion. “What do you think of that idea, Judge?”

Against all rational sense, my eyes snap up to his. “Yes, Judge. What do you think of that?”

He narrows his eyes, but it doesn’t hide his obvious displeasure at the thought. “She can do what she likes… once she’s proven herself capable.”

His answer feels as visceral as a slap to the face, and I wish more than anything I hadn’t heard it, even if I already knew deep down that’s how he feels. It serves as a reminder that I can’t let him in again. Every touch, every soft word… they are all designed to lure me back to him, but if he knew the truth, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It’s up to me now to leave him before he can make that decision. Before he can serve me the ultimate and most painful rejection of my life.

My baby deserves more than that, and I will never let our child know anything but love. I might not know much of it myself, but I will learn, and it will pour out of me so fiercely, I pray he or she will never feel his absence in the way I surely will.

“A conversation for another time,” Santi says, sensing the tension I wish wasn’t so obvious.

“Thank you for letting me meet her.” I hand Elena back to Ivy. “I suppose we should probably get going now.”

Santi agrees, and they inform us they’ll meet us outside. I don’t wait for Judge, but I can feel him watching me as we venture out onto the steps of the manor. It’s strange how this place that was once my home no longer feels that way. I’d been so jealous of Ivy coming here, taking over everything, and pushing me out of the house I grew up in. But as I stand here, silent, my eyes moving over the beautiful architecture, it feels like a chapter of my life I never want to revisit.

I understand now that home is not just a place but a feeling. And I’m going to make a home for my baby and me. Somewhere safe. Somewhere violence has never touched. And I will do it without the man beside me, no matter how much my heart aches.

It’s funny how time changes one’s perspective. For years, I have waited for the Morenos to be brought to justice. On one horrific night, I lost my father and brother Leandro to the explosion linked back to this family. Santiago barely survived himself, crawling from the flames, his flesh forever marred by the events. I clung to the hope that he would live, begging God and every other deity that might exist to save him as he faced a brutal recovery that most would not be strong enough to endure. And then came the news that our mother died a result of her grief, no doubt.

What was left behind in the wreckage of those months was a brother and sister who’d had everyone they’d ever loved ripped away. We vowed revenge. We plotted it, and we relished it with a fervency that burned the blood in my veins, twisting and gnarling me into something I didn’t particularly like.

We wanted every Moreno to pay. It didn’t matter the cost. It didn’t matter their involvement. They all needed to suffer as we had. It was the only thing that made sense. At least, that was what I thought until Santiago fell in love, and the truth began to slowly unfurl.

I now understand who was responsible, and as I sit through Abel Moreno’s trial, listening to all of his sins and misdeeds, two things become evident. The first is that I was becoming just like him. So twisted up in my grief and desire for revenge, I couldn’t see wrong from right. And the second is that I just don’t have the energy to carry that burden of hate anymore. All it’s managed to do is poison me, and for the sake of my sanity, I understand I have to let it go. But I also understand that, on some level, I already have. Because there are bigger things on the horizon now. I have a life waiting for me, and I still don’t entirely know what that life will look like, but I know I don’t want it to be tainted by these memories.

Yet as I listen to The Tribunal sentence Abel to death, I can’t help the uneasy feeling that settles over me when his eyes move to mine. Today, I will wash my hands of him and never want to think of him again. But I can’t help wondering if he has concessions for that. I don’t doubt he would have revealed my plan to The Tribunal to save his skin. He probably told them of my involvement in trying to lure Santiago to adultery, which inadvertently got him poisoned. That was never my intention, nor my plan, but Abel schemed and made it so.

Regardless, I know it doesn’t matter how it happened. The fact is it did, and I could still be held responsible for it. By the evil glint in his eyes right now, I don’t doubt that’s exactly what he’s trying to tell me.

A shudder moves over me, and then the room falls to silence as the final word is passed down, and we are all told to adjourn to the courtyard. I move in a daze, Judge pressing his hand against my lower back in a silent show of support. The night sky is black when we step out and gather before the gallows. We’ve been here for many hours, and it’s late now. The normally raucous crowd surrounding the IVI compound is absent, and instead, there are only soft murmurs that fall into silence as the process begins.

Every Society member who has been wronged by Abel is allowed to speak, and there are many of them. It goes on for what feels like hours, and another wave of emotion crashes over me, exhaustion mingling with finality. I haven’t witnessed a Society execution before. This will be the first I’ve attended, and hopefully my last. They do happen, though not commonly. It takes a lot for The Tribunal to hand down a sentence such as this. I only know I will be grateful when it’s over. Despite my resolve to keep my emotions in check, my eyes sting with unshed tears as the weight of it all settles over me. This is it. The culmination of all my grief-all the tension between my brother and me, the painful memories, and the past we didn’t know we’d ever be able to leave behind. After today, there’s no doubt in my mind we will. We’ll have no choice.

“It’s our turn,” I whisper to Santi.

He nods, and Judge releases me reluctantly. Together, Santi and I walk up to the platform, standing before the smug asshole who sent our lives spiraling into chaos and misery. Santi holds me close, and I stare at the face of the man I swear I will never allow to haunt us again. He refuses to meet my eyes, refuses to act as if he cares about the fate about to befall him.

Santi speaks to him first, low and vicious, his words unfaltering. I only catch a few of them, lost in my thoughts, unable to take my eyes off the man who will cease to exist after this day. I consider my own words to him if there is anything I need to say, but I realize as my brother finishes, Abel Moreno neither deserves nor cares about my thoughts or feelings. Santi seems to sense this, and when he finishes, he turns us both to take our leave until I halt him.

I pull away from him, stepping close to Abel as I steal all my strength, and he finally dares another smug glance at my face. No, I certainly have no speech for him. But I do have something. I hurl my disgust and venom from my lips, spitting into his face.

“I will do the same to your grave,” I tell him with a smile. “Enjoy your death, you miserable bastard. You’ve earned it.”