Echoes of the Heart - 10. Chapter 10: Elena's life hangs in the balance after a shocking revelation. Will she survive?

Carter stood at the center of his bustling office, energy buzzing through him as he handed over some last-minute instructions to his assistant. The fashion event for their summer collection was just around the corner, and he could hardly contain his excitement. Months of work, endless hours of coordination, and sleepless nights were finally paying off. With a satisfied smile, he flipped through the last set of files, adjusting a few details. His mind was racing with the anticipation of it all—models, photographers, designers—everything had to be perfect.

He was about to head to the next meeting when he heard a familiar voice call his name from behind.

“Carter!”

Startled, Carter turned around, his eyes immediately landing on Eric. The man stood there, a wide, flirtatious smile lighting up his face, his usual mischievous glint in his eyes. Eric had always had that effect on people, including Carter—effortlessly charming, with an aura of confidence that was hard to resist. He leaned casually against Carter's desk, looking as though he owned the place.

“Eric,” Carter greeted, his own smile spreading wide as he closed the files and walked toward him. “What are you doing here so early?.”

Eric smirked, his eyes never leaving Carter’s.

“I came to get you,” he said smoothly, crossing his arms. “Thought we could grab some food, maybe talk about some important matters while we’re at it.”

Carter frowned slightly, a hint of confusion creeping onto his face.

“Important matters? What do you mean?”

Eric leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering into something teasing yet earnest. “You still haven’t given me an answer.”

Carter sighed softly, glancing down before looking back into Eric’s eyes. He closed the distance between them, his shoulders slumping a bit as if weighed down by what he was about to say.

“Eric, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Talking to my aunt, convincing her to forgive me for all the problems I caused—it meant a lot. I don’t even know how to repay you for that.”

A playful glint sparked in Eric’s eyes as he winked, straightening up and moving closer to Carter.

“I didn’t do it for your aunt. I did it for you. And you can repay me, you know. Consider my proposal. I’m serious about it.”

Carter let out a light laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back against the desk.

“Eric, you’ve been gone for so long, you don’t even know what’s been happening in my life.” He exhaled deeply, his expression softening. “I was married once, just over a year ago. It didn’t end well, and it cost me more than you could imagine. I’m not sure I’m ready to enter into something new. Especially something as serious as marriage.”

Eric’s smile never faltered, not even for a second. Instead, he stepped closer to Carter, his expression softening as he reached out and took Carter’s hand in his own. His touch was gentle, his thumb rubbing sweetly over Carter’s knuckles, sending a strange warmth through him. Then, slowly, Eric brought Carter’s hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to it.

“Sheila told me everything,” Eric murmured, his voice soft yet full of understanding. “But is that what’s stopping you? What people will say?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

Carter shook his head, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… you deserve someone better. Not a divorcee who’s still sorting through his past.”

Eric’s eyes softened further as he shook his head, his grip on Carter’s hand tightening slightly.

“I don’t see you like that, Carter. You’re a good person. Someone who deserves to feel loved more than anyone else.” He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto Carter’s. “I know you’re scared, and that’s okay. But you know me—I’m not going to hurt you. I never would. I just need you to give me a chance.”

Carter froze, his mind going blank as Eric’s words sank in. His heart pounded against his ribcage, each beat louder than the last as he stared at Eric. The air around them felt suddenly charged, like the moment was too big, too overwhelming to handle. He didn’t know what to say, caught between the fear of repeating the past and the unexpected comfort that Eric’s presence brought.

“I…” Carter began, his voice faltering as his thoughts swirled.

He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to navigate the weight of Eric’s words or the sincerity in his eyes. He felt stuck—like he was standing on the edge of something terrifying and exciting all at once.

“I… I don’t know,” Carter whispered, barely audible, his voice thick with emotion.

Eric smiled, squeezing his hands.

“You don’t have to know everything right now. Just… let me in.”

Carter was still processing everything Eric had said when, out of nowhere, he felt an arm slip around his waist. Startled, he glanced to the side and found Jeremy standing next to him, a big smile spreading across his face, those familiar eyes sparkling with warmth. Suddenly, it was as if the tension in Carter’s chest evaporated, and he could breathe again.

“Hey there,” Jeremy greeted casually, his voice light and playful. “Whatcha doing?”

Carter smiled back, feeling a sense of comfort in Jeremy’s presence. “I was… talking to someone,” he said with a small nod, gesturing toward Eric.

Jeremy’s gaze shifted slightly, his eyes moving toward Eric, and in an instant, recognition flashed in them. Eric was standing there, still wearing that same flirtatious smile. Jeremy knew exactly who he was—the man he’d seen at the office with Carter before, holding his hand.

Carter quickly cleared his throat. “Uh, Jeremy, this is Eric Mendez, my childhood friend, and we’ve known each other for a long time.”

He looked at Eric, beginning to introduce Jeremy, but before he could finish, Eric chimed in.

“Jeremy Rivers, of course,” Eric said with a smile, his eyes locking on Jeremy. “Who doesn’t know the fashion king?” He extended his hand toward Jeremy, who grasped it firmly, their handshake powerful.

“Nice to meet you in person,” Eric continued smoothly, still smiling. “You’ve got a real gem working for your company, you know. Carter’s one of a kind.”

Jeremy’s smile softened as he turned to look at Carter with a quiet affection in his eyes.

“I know,” he said, his voice almost tender as he gazed at him.

But then, Eric spoke up again, his voice light yet pointed.

“It’s a good thing you’re here, actually. Maybe you could help me talk to Carter about something important—like considering my marriage proposal.”

The moment the word “marriage” left Eric’s mouth, Jeremy’s smile vanished. His face drained of color as he turned to look at Eric, the shock evident in his eyes. His gaze darted between Eric and Carter, disbelief taking hold.

“Marriage?” Jeremy gasped, his heart pounding as fear gripped him. “What… what do you mean?”

Eric, still smiling brightly, glanced at Carter before turning back to Jeremy.

“Yeah, I want to marry Carter. He’s been a part of my life for so long, it just feels like the next step.”

Jeremy’s heart raced, and he stared at Carter, who stood there with a soft smile, one that Jeremy couldn’t decipher. He felt like the world was spinning out of control. Carter? Getting married?

“Are… are you getting married?” Jeremy managed to ask, his voice thick with anxiety.

Carter shook his head and shrugged, clearly uncomfortable.

“No, I’m not. I—” he hesitated, his usual confidence faltering.

Jeremy’s mind raced, a shiver running down his spine as his thoughts spiraled into worst-case scenarios. He couldn’t lose Carter, not like this. Panic welled up inside him as he imagined a life where Carter was no longer by his side, and that fear took a firm grip on his heart. Desperate to keep things from slipping away, Jeremy abruptly took a deep breath, grabbed Carter’s hand, and held on tightly.

“Well,” Jeremy said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady, “that’s something you and I are going to have to discuss later. But right now, we have work to do, and it can’t wait.”

Carter frowned, looking confused.

“What? Work? We—”

Before Carter could finish, Jeremy tightened his grip on Carter’s hand and pulled him toward the office. Carter was left stumbling to keep up, bewildered by Jeremy’s sudden urgency. Once they reached the office, Jeremy shut the door behind them with a decisive thud, turning to face Carter with wide eyes, as if he’d grown another head.

“Marriage?” Jeremy asked, his voice filled with disbelief. “You’re considering marriage? How well do you even know this Eric guy?”

Carter raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed by Jeremy’s reaction. “Calm down,” he said, closing his eyes briefly as he sighed. “Eric isn’t a stranger. We grew up together. We know each other better than anyone.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to marry him!” Jeremy blurted out, his voice more emotional than he intended.

Carter laughed, shaking his head.

“No, I’m not considering marriage, Jeremy. I told you, I’m not ready for that. At first, I thought Eric was joking, but now I’m sure he’s serious.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “Even my aunt’s asked me about it.”

Jeremy’s eyes went wide, his heart pounding once more.

“Wait—what did you say?”

Carter frowned, clearly taken aback by Jeremy’s intensity.

“Why are you questioning me like this? I was busy, and we didn’t talk about it much.”

Jeremy interrupted him, almost pleading now.

“You need to talk to your aunt, Carter. You have to tell her exactly what you told me. That you’re not ready to marry Eric. You don’t want to marry him.”

Carter sighed, tilting his head and giving Jeremy a curious look.

“You’re acting weird, Jeremy. What’s going on?”

Jeremy’s eyes softened, and he took a deep breath, his grip loosening.

“Just promise me you’ll talk to her. Tell her how you really feel. Please.”

Carter let out a long breath, clearly exasperated.

“Fine, I promise. I’ll talk to her tonight and make it clear.”

The tension in Jeremy’s shoulders eased, and a smile slowly spread across his face. Relief washed over him, though a lingering unease remained in the back of his mind. He still had to tell Carter the truth about how he felt. But for now, he was reassured. He hadn’t lost him—yet.

Carter, seeing Jeremy relax, raised an eyebrow. “So, are we going to get to work, or did you drag me in here for something else?”

Jeremy chuckled, though there was a nervous edge to it. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get to it.”

Carter shrugged, walking over to the desk where a stack of papers awaited. Jeremy watched him for a moment, his mind still whirling with thoughts of what could’ve happened, what could still happen. He couldn’t shake the dread gnawing at him, knowing that he’d have to come clean eventually. With a shake of his head, he followed Carter, determined to keep everything together—at least for now.

***

Carter opened the door to his apartment, and the moment he stepped inside, a wonderful aroma of spices and something delicious cooking enveloped him. A smile instantly crept onto his face as he glanced ahead. His aunt Sheila was already rushing toward him, her face beaming with joy. She greeted him with her usual warmth, pulling him into a tight, affectionate hug.

“Oh, you’re finally home!” she exclaimed, taking his bag from him as if it was second nature and ushering him toward the living room. They sat close together on the couch, her excitement practically radiating from her.

Carter frowned, his smile fading into curiosity.

“Why are you so excited, Aunt Sheila?”

Sheila reached out, taking his hand in hers, her expression soft but still buzzing with enthusiasm.

“Eric called me this morning,” she said, her tone full of expectation. “He told me he was going to take you out. So, how did it go?”

Carter sighed heavily, leaning back against the cushions.

“I didn’t go with him,” he admitted, sounding both tired and slightly guilty. “I had too much work today with the event coming up. We’re running out of time.”

Sheila’s smile faltered for just a second as she stared at him.

“But Carter, you’ve got so many people who could handle that. All Eric asked for was some time. You can’t work all the time,” she said gently, but there was a hint of insistence in her voice.

Carter let out another long sigh.

“I didn’t go because I didn’t want to give Eric any false hope. He’s suddenly talking about marriage and he’s so serious about it.” he said softly.

He took her hands in his, his tone becoming more serious.

“Aunt Sheila, don’t get me wrong. Eric is a really nice guy. He’s loving, caring—a perfect man. But...” He paused, searching for the right words. Taking a deep breath, he finally continued. “I’ve made a decision with my heart once before, not my mind. And you and Dad didn’t agree with it. And… it turned out to be the worst decision I ever made. I lost so much because of it, including Dad.”

His voice grew quieter as he reflected on the painful memories, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“But that whole journey, that heartbreak, it brought me to where I am now. A new phase of my life. And I have you with me now, and that’s what matters.”

Sheila’s expression softened as she listened, and she smiled, squeezing his hand.

“Of course, you have me,” she said tenderly. “You’re my son, Carter. And your happiness is my responsibility. And in my opinion, Eric is a very good man. I really believe he’s going to make you happy. He’s already proven he’s willing to go to great lengths for you.”

Carter gave her a small, weary smile.

“I know, Aunt Sheila. Eric is amazing, but my life’s a mess right now. I’m just now uncovering all these truths about my family, and I still haven’t found my mother or brother. I don’t even know if I want to drag anyone else into that.”

Sheila placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, her expression kind but firm.

“That doesn’t mean you have to put your whole life on hold,” she said gently. “I like Eric. I think he’s the best person for you. He has his life together, he knows all about your past, and despite that, he still wants to be with you. If you keep pushing him away, you might lose someone amazing.”

Carter’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of worry. His heart tightened at her words. He knew Sheila only wanted the best for him, but the idea of diving into another relationship—especially one as serious as what Eric was proposing—filled him with doubt. He wasn’t sure if he had room in his heart for that anymore.

“I know you mean well, Aunt Sheila,” he said quietly, “but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. After everything… I’m scared. Scared of failing again, of hurting someone… and myself.”

Sheila moved closer, her voice gentle but with a determined edge.

“Carter, Eric isn’t asking you to marry him tomorrow.” She chuckled nervously. “He wants to show you just how much he is serious about this. If you’re unsure, give him 2 weeks only. He’s only asking for two weeks. Just two weeks for him to convince you. If he can’t, then he’ll back off, and he won’t bring it up again. But if he can… well, maybe it’ll be worth it."

Carter opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but Sheila raised a hand, her eyes pleading.

“Please, Carter. Just promise me you’ll give him those two weeks. You owe yourself that much happiness.”

Carter sat there, completely torn. His mind was swirling with confusion, doubts, and fears. He had spent so long rebuilding his life after the mess his heart had gotten him into last time. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to take that leap again, no matter how good Eric seemed. But the look in Sheila’s eyes, that unwavering belief in his happiness, made it hard for him to refuse. He was stuck, pulled in two directions.

“I…” he stammered, still trying to find a way out. But Sheila’s hand tightened around his, and her gaze didn’t waver.

“Please,” she whispered again.

With a deep breath, Carter finally nodded, though uncertainty still clouded his heart.

“Alright,” he said softly. “I promise. I’ll give him the two weeks.”

Sheila’s face lit up with joy, and without warning, she threw her arms around him in a tight, warm embrace.

“Thank you, Carter! You won’t regret it, I promise. Thank you so much!”

Carter hugged her back, but his mind was far from settled. As she held him, the warmth of her happiness surrounding him, a heavy weight still pressed down on his chest. Sheila was thrilled, but Carter? He wasn’t so sure. His heart still ached with fear and uncertainty, and the path ahead felt more uncertain than ever.

***

The room was dim, only a faint light flickering from the far end, casting long shadows across the cracked tiles. The sound of water dripping, slow and deliberate, echoed in the stillness, each drop landing with a soft, mocking rhythm. The bathroom was grimy, the air heavy with dampness and decay. In the bathtub, water trickled onto a motionless figure, Elena, her head resting against the cold porcelain. Her hair, wet and matted with dried blood, clung to her skin, framing a face marked by exhaustion and pain.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. Her vision was blurred, the world around her spinning in disorienting circles. She groaned softly, a pounding headache greeting her, the dripping water intensifying the throbbing in her skull. Elena blinked, trying to focus, her body feeling foreign and weak, as though it no longer belonged to her. She shifted her head, gazing around the dingy bathroom. Everything swirled until, finally, it settled into focus.

Her arms throbbed with pain from the ropes that had bound her, the marks still fresh on her skin. Every muscle in her body protested as she tried to move. Weak, nauseous, she groaned again, louder this time, as she slowly pushed herself up from the tub. Her hands reached for her head, massaging the aching spot where the blood had dried, a dull pain pulsing beneath the surface. The effort of standing was immense, her legs trembling beneath her as she rose on unsteady feet.

With difficulty, she managed to climb out of the tub, each movement slow, deliberate, as if any sudden shift would shatter her already fragile body. Limping, she made her way toward the door, which was slightly ajar, the dim light from the next room seeping into the bathroom. Her heart began to pound harder, each step echoing louder in her ears as she approached the door. She peeked into the next room—the room where she had been held captive.

Empty.

Her breath caught, and cold sweat began to form on her brow, sliding down her face. Her pulse quickened as she moved cautiously into the room, her eyes darting around in fear. She scanned the shadows, searching desperately for any sign of him, for Dexter, but there was nothing. He wasn’t there.

Maybe… just maybe she could make it out.

Her pace quickened. She limped toward the door on the far side of the room, each step feeling heavier than the last, her heart racing. The moment her fingers touched the cold door handle, her hope shattered.

Dexter was standing right there, on the other side, staring at her with cold, unrelenting fury. His eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shock of fear straight through her, freezing her in place.

Elena’s breath hitched, her body stiffening as terror washed over her like a storm crashing onto the shore. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, her knees weak as she took a step back, her body trembling. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Only fear.

Dexter took a menacing step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “You like playing hide and seek, huh?” He took another step forward, his presence looming. “Do you really think you can go out there and expose my secrets? You just love causing trouble, don’t you?”

His voice escalated into a yell, the sound bouncing off the walls. Elena stumbled backward, her chest heaving with each panicked breath. Her eyes were wide, her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she backed away from him.

“Are you tired of life, Elena?” Dexter sneered, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. “Do you want to join your precious son? Is that it?”

Elena’s lips quivered, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stared at him, helpless. Dexter’s words cut deep, stabbing into the most fragile parts of her heart. He chuckled darkly, the sound bitter, cruel.

“Do you remember how he died?” His voice was sharp, each word twisted with malice.

Tears streamed down Elena’s face as she raised a trembling finger, pointing directly at him. Her voice cracked, barely audible, but filled with raw emotion.

“Ethan... Ethan died... because of you. You killed him.”

Dexter’s face twitched, his eyes flaring red with rage. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Elena’s voice grew louder, her fear giving way to anger, to a desperate release of the truth she had been holding in for so long.

“You killed him, Dexter! You’re a murderer!”

A slow, cruel grin spread across Dexter’s face. The evil in his expression was chilling as he looked at her, relishing in the power he held over her. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper, yet it carried more weight than any scream.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Elena’s tears flowed freely, her entire body trembling, trapped between the door and the monster who had destroyed her life.

Her face trembled, her body wracked with grief and fear, her tears flowing uncontrollably as her breath came in ragged gasps. Her heart felt like it was tearing apart from the weight of her son’s loss, but her voice, though shaky, cut through the silence like a blade.

“Murderer,” she whispered, her voice barely audible at first. Then louder, firmer: “You’re a murderer, Dexter!”

Dexter’s eyes blazed with fury, his face contorting as a scream tore from his throat.

“What could I do, huh?” he yelled, stepping closer with each word, his voice filled with venom. “Mother and son, you’re both alike! Always taking things from me—things that made me happy!”

Elena took another step backward, her heart racing so fast it felt like it would burst. Her back was almost against the wall, nowhere to run, her body trembling as Dexter approached her, his face twisted with years of pent-up hatred.

“First, you took my father away!" he shouted, his voice shaking with rage. "Destroyed our family! And then Ethan—Ethan did the same with Jeremy! None of you were ever at peace until you took everything I had!” His voice broke, pure bitterness pouring out of him as he waved his hands erratically.

Elena’s lip quivered, her legs weak beneath her.

Her voice came out in a shaky breath, “I... I made a mistake by marrying your father, I know that. But your parents were divorced long before I ever came into the picture, Dexter.”

Dexter’s scream cut through the air, loud and furious.

“So what?!” he bellowed. “Even after their divorce, my father loved my mother! There was hope, there was always hope that they’d get back together! But you... you came along and ruined everything!”

Elena’s steps faltered as Dexter advanced, towering over her, his fists clenched tight at his sides. His face twisted in anguish and hatred, his words growing more wild with each breath.

“I had to compete for my father’s love—with you, with Ethan! And that wasn’t enough, was it? No! Ethan went ahead and stole the one person that ever mattered to me. He knew how much I loved Jeremy, and still, he took him away from me!”

Elena’s tears blurred her vision, but she stood her ground, her voice soft yet unwavering.

“Dexter… maybe we made mistakes. But what you did, what you’ve done—it’s not a mistake. It’s a crime.”

The look of sheer anger that flickered across Dexter’s face was terrifying. His jaw clenched so hard it looked as if it might snap, his eyes burning with unfiltered rage. He was breathing heavily now, each breath sharp and shallow, his whole body trembling as if he were on the edge of completely losing control.

Elena, trying to remain calm despite the storm of fear raging inside her, spoke again.

“Everything you’ve done—it’s going to come to light. Sooner or later, everyone will know what really happened. Even if you keep me locked up for the rest of my life, people will find out that Ethan’s death wasn’t an accident. It was murder, Dexter. And it was planned.”

At her words, Dexter snapped. He let out a furious roar, his face twisting into something inhuman.

“Yes!” he screamed, his voice filled with rage and something else—something darker, more deranged. “Yes, it was planned!”

He stepped closer, his eyes wild as he leaned into her face.

“There’s a saying,” he growled, his voice eerily calm for a moment. “Destiny is a path God carves for us, and when we ignore His signs, He makes sure we get another chance—through punishment.”

Elena's breath hitched as she stared into his eyes, the madness in them unmistakable.

“And since God wasn’t punishing Ethan himself,” Dexter continued, his voice rising again, “He gave me the opportunity! He gave me the chance to punish him!” His lips curled into a twisted smile, a look of triumph crossing his face as if he had just revealed some divine secret.

Elena’s body trembled as her mind spun, fear gripping every part of her. Ethan's death wasn’t an accident or an act of rage. It was premeditated, a murder born of years of jealousy, resentment, and hatred.

And now, that hatred was directed fully at her.

***

Years back…

*

The door to Ethan's room opened, and he stepped inside, his face glowing with joy. His dark hair, pulled into a neat ponytail, shone under the soft light of the room. His handsome face was a picture of happiness, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he admired the engagement ring glinting on his finger. Jeremy had just proposed, and Ethan could hardly believe it. He was the happiest man in the world, and he couldn’t wait to tell his mother the news.

He rushed toward the mirror, his smile growing wider as he looked at his reflection. The ring caught the light and shimmered beautifully, a symbol of the love he and Jeremy shared. Ethan held his hand up, admiring the way the band wrapped around his finger, perfect and elegant. His heart swelled with joy, thinking about their future together.

Suddenly, the door burst open behind him. Ethan spun around, startled. Standing in the doorway was Dexter, younger but with a twisted expression of anger and pain etched across his face. His eyes locked on the ring on Ethan’s finger, and the moment he saw it, a wave of fury washed over him.

“No!” Dexter shouted, his voice trembling with disbelief as he rushed toward Ethan.

He grabbed Ethan's hand, his grip tight and desperate, his eyes fixed on the ring like it was some kind of betrayal.

Ethan, taken aback, chuckled nervously.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, holding up his hand to show Dexter the ring. But before he could say more, a sharp pain shot through his wrist as Dexter twisted his hand viciously.

“Ah! What are you doing?!” Ethan screamed, trying to pull his hand free from Dexter’s grip, but Dexter was relentless, his fingers digging into Ethan's skin as he tried to rip the ring off his finger.

“Give it to me!” Dexter snarled, his voice laced with bitterness.

Ethan finally managed to yank his hand away, stumbling back a few steps, his breath ragged and his face twisted in pain. He held his injured wrist, staring at Dexter with wide, confused eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted, his heart pounding, his earlier joy replaced by shock and fear.

Dexter stood there, shaking his head, tears welling up in his eyes. He took a breath, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“Ethan... you ruined my life,” he said, his tone filled with agony. “Jeremy was supposed to be mine. Mine! He was supposed to propose to me, not you!”

Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. He stood there, frozen, the shock hitting him like a tidal wave.

“What... what are you talking about, Dexter?” he whispered, his voice weak and uncertain, unable to process what he was hearing.

Dexter’s fists clenched, his whole body trembling.

“He was supposed to be mine, Ethan! You stole him from me!” he yelled, his voice rising in hysteria. “You’ve always taken things from me, and now you’ve taken the one person who mattered! You need to go to him right now. Tell him you can't marry him. Break his heart, and then I’ll be there to pick up the pieces. It was always meant to be me!”

Ethan’s face paled, and he took another step back, his eyes locked on Dexter in disbelief.

“You’ve lost your mind,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I’m not going to do that. Jeremy and I love each other. You can’t just…” He shook his head in disbelief, struggling to find words for the insanity of what Dexter was saying. “You’re asking me to destroy everything for you? No. I won’t do it.”

Dexter’s face twisted in rage.

“You’ll regret this,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes wild with fury.

Ethan shook his head.

“You've gone insane. I'm not going to listen to any of this,” he said, his voice firm.

With that, he turned to rush past Dexter, desperate to get away from the madness. But before he could reach the door, Dexter's hand shot out, gripping a handful of Ethan's hair and yanking him backward.

Ethan cried out in pain, stumbling as Dexter pulled him back, his body slamming into Dexter’s chest.

“I’m not done with you yet!” Dexter growled, his voice cold and dangerous.

The two men struggled, Ethan fighting desperately to free himself as Dexter tightened his grip on his hair. Ethan swung his arm, landing a hit on Dexter’s side, causing him to stagger, but Dexter retaliated with a sharp elbow to Ethan’s ribs. Ethan gasped, the air knocked out of him as he crumpled, but he didn’t stop fighting.

He managed to get back on his feet, pushing Dexter away. The two faced each other, panting, the room thick with tension. Ethan's eyes burned with anger now.

“Let me go!” he shouted, his voice hoarse.

Dexter’s face twisted in a snarl as he lunged at Ethan again. This time, he kicked out with all his strength, his foot connecting with Ethan’s leg. A sickening crack filled the air as Ethan fell to the ground with a thud, screaming in agony. His leg twisted unnaturally beneath him, the pain overwhelming.

“Ahh!” Ethan clutched his broken leg, writhing on the floor, tears of pain streaming down his face. He tried to crawl away, but the pain was unbearable, his leg throbbing with each movement.

Dexter stood over him, breathing heavily, his face cold and triumphant.

“Now you’ll understand,” he muttered darkly, his voice almost a whisper. “Now you’ll see what happens when you take what's mine.”

***

Present Day

*

Dexter stood before Elena with a wicked smile playing on his lips. His voice was smooth, almost triumphant as he recalled the moment.

“I wanted to hurt Ethan so badly,” he said, his eyes gleaming with malice. “But too bad you showed up and separated us.” He chuckled darkly, as if it were a fond memory. “Ethan, in his naïveté, didn’t even tell Jeremy what happened. Can you believe that?” Dexter's face morphed into something almost grotesque, a look of pleasure crossing it.

“But I got another opportunity,” Dexter continued, his voice lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. “The day you took Ethan for imaging. None of you suspected it, but I made sure that during his X-ray, he was exposed to a dangerously high dose. Just a few thousand dollars... and boom, Ethan’s life was destroyed.”

Elena gasped, tears streaming down her face as she cried in pain. She could barely breathe, the horror of Dexter’s confession tightening around her chest like a vice.

“How could you…” she whispered, choking on her sobs. Dexter’s laughter echoed through the room, cold and manic.

“Elena, don’t underestimate what money can do,” he said with a sinister grin. “At first, I thought it didn’t work, you know. Years passed, and I nearly gave up. But then... boom,” he said, his voice laced with sick satisfaction. “Ethan was diagnosed with cancer. Fast-growing, aggressive, and there was nothing any of you could do. Do you know the joy in that?” He let out a twisted laugh, almost reveling in the memory.

Elena collapsed to her knees, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You killed him,” she cried, her voice trembling with anguish. “All these years... you’ve been walking around like an innocent man. How could you live with yourself? Do you even have a conscience? Anything human in you?”

The smile on Dexter’s face slowly faded, his expression darkening. His jaw clenched as Elena’s words dug deeper, striking something inside him.

“You killed someone, Dexter!” Elena sobbed, her voice raw with grief. “And you’re standing here, talking about it like it’s nothing. How can you not regret it? How can you—” Her words were cut short by Dexter’s sudden outburst.

“Regret what?!” Dexter snapped, his voice harsh and bitter. His eyes blazed with anger as he stared at her. “I did nothing wrong! Why should I regret anything?!”

He took a step closer, his face contorting with rage.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of going through what my mother did when you stole my father from her! She went insane, Elena! She killed herself because of what you did!” His voice cracked with a mixture of fury and pain.

Elena’s eyes widened in shock as Dexter’s rage spilled over, his words like venom.

“I went to Ethan,” Dexter continued, his voice shaking with emotion. “I begged him to leave Jeremy, but no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. The love of his life, he said,” Dexter sneered, mocking Ethan’s words with a cruel twist of his lips. “He didn’t care what I went through, so why should I care? I don’t regret a damn thing, Elena. And now… now things are about to fall into my favor.”

Elena's heart pounded as she listened, the horror of Dexter’s words sinking in like a lead weight.

“You’re a criminal, Dexter,” she whispered, her voice filled with disgust. “You’re sick, and you’re a murderer.”

Dexter's face twisted into a snarl.

“Enough!” he roared, his patience snapping. “I'm so sick of hearing your voice, of seeing your face.” He took another step closer, his eyes burning with hatred.

Elena instinctively stepped back, but her body hit the wall behind her. There was nowhere to go. Her chest heaved, and cold sweat trickled down her forehead as Dexter loomed over her, his presence suffocating.

“This is all your fault,” Dexter hissed. “If you hadn’t overheard my conversation, I wouldn’t have had to keep you locked away all these months. But now... now you know too much about me.” His voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. “So, I think it’s time you got out of my life. For good.”

Elena’s body trembled violently at his words. She knew what he meant, and the fear threatened to overtake her. But with a deep, shuddering breath, she steadied herself, her voice trembling but defiant.

“You might kill me, Dexter,” she said, her eyes locked on his. “But that won’t erase the truth. One way or another, it will come out. Everything you’ve done... it will come to light.”

Dexter’s face twitched, the twisted smile gone, replaced by cold fury. Elena's words hung in the air like a final, desperate declaration of justice, but Dexter didn’t care anymore. His patience was gone, and his anger was an unstoppable force.

Dexter's fingers dug painfully into Elena's arm as he yanked her closer, his grip unrelenting.

“Who’s going to reveal the truth, huh? You?” His laughter echoed through the room, sharp and mocking. He shook his head slowly, his eyes dark with amusement. “I don’t think so, Elena.”

Elena's breath hitched, her body trembling, but she nodded, her voice shaky but determined.

“Yes, I will. I’ll tell everyone what you did. The world will know.”

The smile vanished from Dexter’s face, his features hardening into something far more menacing. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her face.

“One murder or two, Elena,” he said coldly, his voice void of emotion, “the punishment’s the same. Isn’t it?”

Her eyes widened in sheer terror as his words sank in. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, dragging her closer still. His lips curled into a sinister smirk.

“Say hi to Ethan for me.”

Before she could react, his hand shot up, gripping her head with terrifying strength. In one swift, brutal motion, he slammed her head against the wall with a sickening thud. Elena didn’t even have time to scream—everything went black in an instant. Her body crumpled to the floor, lifeless, as blood began to pool beneath her, staining the cold, dirty tiles.

Dexter stood there for a moment, breathing heavily as he watched the blood spreading slowly across the floor, his face emotionless. Then, almost imperceptibly, an evil grin crept across his face.

“Dead men tell no tales,” he muttered under his breath.

He took a step back, watching Elena's motionless body, and then, as if the weight of what he'd done lifted him instead of dragging him down, he laughed. It started low but quickly grew louder, manic, filling the room with the sound of his twisted satisfaction. He had won. And in his mind, that was all that mattered.

To be continued…