The continuation…
The door bursts open violently.
A harsh shove, the creak of wood, heavy footsteps storming into the house without permission.
The two children froze, then immediately ran — Amy to Bella's side, Leo into Lucian's arms.
Celine didn't look surprised… only terrified, like she knew this scene all too well. She took an instinctive step toward her kids, then stopped, as if fear had chained her feet.
The man (angrily, voice tight with suppressed rage):
"Celine!!! Where have you been?! What the hell do you think you're doing?! It's—"
He stopped abruptly.
His eyes caught Bella, then Lucian.
His gaze darted like an arrow, landing on Lucian for a beat… a mocking tone slipped out almost naturally.
The man (tense, sarcastic):
"Well, well… a strange man in my house at this hour? Lovely, Celine. Really lovely."
Bella sat quietly, not looking at him — her eyes instead observing Celine, the children, their reactions…
Lucian pulled Leo closer, calm but sharp-eyed, silent, as though measuring the air of the room.
Then suddenly—
The man (eyeing Bella, tone turning disgustingly slick):
"Oh… but you… you're not from around here, are you? I'd say this neighborhood doesn't deserve a royal face like yours.
Name's Dean, by the way… if you ever need help with anything here, anything, I'm available anytime."
Bella raised an eyebrow. Just one.
The kind of gesture that silently files his words under trash talk.
Then she looked toward Lucian… who gave Dean a stare as cold and immovable as stone, before shifting his gaze back to Celine.
Lucian (dryly, without raising his voice):
"I thought monsters slept at this hour."
Dean tried to laugh, but the pressure in the room made it die in his throat — especially when Bella didn't respond, didn't even glance his way. She only looked at Celine, then at the kids, and thought to herself:
Bella (in her mind):
"The first instinct when the father enters… the kids don't run to him.
The girl hides behind me, the boy clings to Lucian.
Celine wasn't shocked — she expected his violent entrance, her maternal reflex flickered…
This fear is rooted. It's not new. It's not a moment… it's a pattern."
Then she looked straight at the man — right into his eyes, as if she were reading his classified file.
The fake smile on his face began to melt.
Her voice came out low — but it split the room in half.
Bella:
"You're the real guest here, aren't you? In this house… even your wife doesn't live with you anymore.
And your children… they only know you as a loud voice, or a shadow on the wall."
The little girl clutched Bella's hand tighter, while the boy breathed deeply, as if finding a new kind of safety.
The man (trying to raise his voice):
"Tch, what's it to you two…? Who even are you?"
Lucian (coldly, lethal calm):
"We're the people you pretend don't exist."
A sudden silence.
Celine grips her own hands, the children hide in the arms of two strangers, and the husband stands there—helpless, trying to hold onto a mask of strength before guests who now see right through him.
Lucian glances toward Bella, asking quietly:
Lucian:
"Do you want to leave… or take them with us?"
Bella stays silent for a moment.
Her eyes move from one to another — the girl clutching her hand, the boy in Lucian's arms, Celine's confused face, and finally… Dean.
Her gaze slices through him, peeling off his pathetic mask of arrogance.
Then… gently, disturbingly calm, she begins to free the little girl's hand.
The girl resists, but Bella's touch is firm, almost heartbreakingly tender — a goodbye disguised as care.
Shock floods the girl's eyes. Even Lucian pauses, caught off guard by Bella's move.
Bella (calmly, too calm):
"We should go. Thank you for the tea, Celine."
The room falls still.
The children freeze — as if all the air just vanished.
Celine whispers something inaudible, while Lucian narrows his eyes at Bella, trying to read her intent.
Then… he sees Bella lean toward the boy, whisper something in his ear while gently placing her hand on his head.
After that, she murmurs something to Lucian—quiet, sharp, precise.
Bella (whispering):
"Quick plan. We leave, pretend to go. I hid one of my pens on the couch.
We come back to 'retrieve' it.
I'll get Celine to run a recording. If he says or does anything, we catch him. If not, we wait.
But… I'm not leaving them. Not ever, Lucian."
Lucian understood.
His eyes softened, and he nodded slightly.
He realized Bella wasn't cold — just clever.
They stood up and headed for the door.
Bella:
"Thank you, Celine. And you two… sleep well, little ones."
She didn't look at Dean.
No goodbye. No glance. No word.
Lucian walked out first, calm and deliberate.
As he passed Dean, he intentionally bumped shoulders with him — hard.
The impact was solid as a wall.
Dean staggered back a step, stunned.
He looked up and found Lucian staring him down with quiet dominance. Dean said nothing.
Then… Bella walked past him.
Their shoulders brushed, and she looked right at him — a gaze that stripped him of any illusion of control.
She was his height, but her eyes carried a storm he couldn't face.
Dean (thinking):
"Who is this woman…? And why can't I speak?"
Bella turned to Celine, a calm farewell in her eyes… and whispered softly:
Bella (quietly):
"I'll be back soon…"
Lucian opened the door.
Bella stepped out first.
Then Lucian gave one last look inside — a silent warning — before leaving and closing the door.
---
Outside – In front of Celine's house
The night was still, the air slightly cold.
Dim streetlight reflections shimmered off the car parked a few meters away.
Inside, Bella scrolled through her phone quickly, eyes darting over the screen, clearly anxious.
Lucian watched her from the passenger seat and asked quietly:
Lucian:
"What are you looking for?"
Bella (still scrolling):
"Celine's number… God, I didn't realize I have this many contacts.
Feels like I know half the planet."
Lucian smiled faintly, leaning a little closer.
Lucian:
"When did you even get her number?"
Bella looked up briefly, then smiled as she finally found it — a small look of victory.
Bella:
"When you were busy playing with the kids… I asked for it, and she gave it to me."
Lucian (small smirk):
"Ah… makes sense now."
He paused, raised his brows.
"And what are you planning to do with it?"
Bella gave him a sideways glance, voice dripping with dry humor:
Bella:
"I'll call her to order a cake, obviously.
What did you think — I'd ask her father for her hand?"
Lucian chuckled, waving his hand as if to surrender:
Lucian:
"Alright, alright… stupid question."
Bella laughed softly, then turned serious again, staring at the house in silence.
Her expression hardened; the tension returned.
Bella (whispering):
"I just hope she agrees to the plan… and more importantly, that she answers. That's the key."
Lucian watched her with calm focus and said gently:
Lucian:
"Don't worry. Everything will go the way you planned.
Trust me — and trust yourself."
Bella smiled faintly, his words grounding her.
Her eyes went back to the house — its shadows darkening under the weak streetlight.
At that moment, neither of them knew what was happening inside…
but both were certain of one thing —
Whatever it was…
It wasn't good.
•••
Inside — Celine's house
It was late at night. A heavy silence hung in the place, like dust stuck in the air. The two children stood before the closed door, staring at it with eyes full of disappointment, as if waiting for a miracle to bring back the strangers who had given them a moment of safety. Celine trembled, trying to arrange the teacups on the table to look busy, while she wiped away a tear that fell without permission.
Suddenly his voice rose. Dean — that clear tone of anger, the voice she knew all too well.
Dean (voice muffled with anger): "Is the play over?! I feel like I live in an orphanage, not my house! Where's your dignity, Celine?!"
She didn't answer. She crossed her arms over her chest as if shielding herself from the words that always came before his fist.
Dean (stepping forward): "You let them touch my kids?! You sat with them like they were their parents?! What did I tell you? Don't speak, don't interfere, stay silent!"
Amy stepped back a step and clung to her brother's hand, while Leo whispered in a trembling voice:
Leo: "They were nice… we just wanted to go with them."
Dean (shouting): "Shut up! I'm your father, not those strangers! You go with them? Over my dead body!"
Celine looked at her children, then at her husband, and said in a tired voice:
Celine: "They did nothing wrong… they only tried to help us."
Dean (with a mocking laugh): "Helping us? Or were they trying to paint you as some pathetic victim?! I don't need the pity of an arrogant rich woman nor of her handsome boyfriend pretending to be a knight! They're all liars… and you believed them?!"
He dropped onto the couch with fake exhaustion and said coldly:
Dean: "Make the tea."
She didn't argue. She picked up the tray and turned to her little ones:
Celine (calmly): "Come on, my little ones, come with your mother."
They went together to the kitchen. She tried to seem steady, but tears came first, falling one after another to the sound of running tap water.
---
From Celine's perspective (POV)
I was born to parents who loved me, the only daughter, and so they worked day and night to give me everything I wanted. We were a well-off family. I was a smart girl from childhood; I always got top marks. Yes, you might say I was lucky, but the truth is I earned my place with long nights and their sacrifices.
In my teens I took a part-time job at a small bookstore to prove to my parents I was strong and mature. They refused at first because they wanted me to focus on school and have a normal adolescence like other girls, but they finally supported me.
As you know, love appears in adolescence — sincere or false. Since I had never truly experienced it and grew up in a household full of my parents' love, I assumed my relationship would be the same… I was wrong. Very wrong.
I met the man who later became my husband — Dean. He was arrogant and manipulative. I fell for him even though I knew he spent his time with other girls. I read many romance novels about "the proud young man who falls for the clever girl," and I thought my story would be like that.
Dean suddenly got close to me; from his view we were friends, while to me he seemed like a dream come true. I didn't like his arrogant, manipulative personality, so I thought: why not change him? Like in the novels. I tried many times, to no avail. Then I realized the idea of "changing a man" is a lie — or maybe I was the fool.
We separated, and I went back to my life. I worked hard until I became a university professor at a respected university, one of the leading lecturers. Life seemed to smile at me, but before I could enjoy it, fate turned its smile sour.
I met Dean again; he was working as a construction worker. Because of old feelings, we started talking again. I noticed his personality had changed: he was calmer; the arrogance faded. He worked hard this time, and one day he said to me: "I love you, Celine, will you go out with me?" That was one of the happiest days of my life. I confessed my feelings and we began a new relationship. He never tired of messaging me, and I replied in kind.
After two years he proposed. He told me he had prepared everything during those two years — the house, the ring, the wedding, every detail. Of course I agreed. We had the wedding soon after, then honeymooned in a lovely French village where we had wonderful times.
Dean advanced in work, and he asked me to stop working so I could live "like a queen" at home. I was exhausted from work pressure, so I agreed. If I could go back, I'd say I was naive then.
Eight years of a happy marriage passed; during them I gave birth to my little Amy and my beloved Leo. But months later Dean changed completely. He began to rage at the smallest things, shouting, hitting, insulting. He forbade me from going out, as if he owned me — a sick possession.
He turned my life and my children's life into hell. Why? Bad company he kept and the substances he started taking. I no longer cared whether he was the cause or not, but I often wanted to kill him. I no longer feared prison or death… because I knew there was no one left for me.
But every time those thoughts seized me, I remembered I had two children — a beautiful princess and a little knight. I couldn't leave them alone in this cruel world, especially since my parents died years ago. For that reason alone I kept living. I lived for them only.
End POV — Celine
She returned to the present at the sound of her trembling voice:
Celine (whispering): "But… if only…"
She looked at the knife near the sink. She stared at it so long she imagined another scene — a bloody future with no return.
But Leo's voice cut through her thoughts.
Leo (anxiously): "Mom, are you okay?"
She hurried to wipe her tears away, then turned to him with a warm, forced smile.
Celine: "I'm fine, my little one. I'll make you both a cup of warm milk, then you'll go to sleep, okay?"
Leo (with childish stubbornness): "No, we don't want to sleep! We want to stay with you, protect you from the monster!"
Celine smiled sadly and knelt before him.
Celine: "I know, my heart… but you have school tomorrow, right?"
He pouted and puffed his cheeks stubbornly, while Amy silently stared at the floor.
Celine (gently): "What's wrong, my love?"
Amy (softly): "Mom… will Cinderella the princess and the handsome prince come back to take us?"
Leo added: "Yes, when will they come back? I don't want to stay here."
Celine was stunned by her children's words and sadness crept into her heart. She sighed after a moment of thought and said quietly: "The princess must return to her home before midnight, and so must the prince, so it's not good for them to stay together."
Leo lifted his head enthusiastically in agreement.
Leo: "But! I want to go with the knight!"
Amy (laughing): "No, with the handsome prince!"
Leo: "Knight!" Amy: "Prince!"
Celine laughed despite everything, then stood and continued preparing the tea and milk. But the ring of the phone stopped her.
She looked at the screen, and the name that appeared made her heart stop for a moment: "Lady Bella."
Her hand trembled, then she took a deep breath and answered the call.
Celine (nervously): "Hello… Miss Bella, how can I help you?"
Bella (firmly calm): "Mrs. Celine, I'll get straight to the point. I want you to listen to me until the end, without interrupting."
Celine: "Go ahead."
Bella: "You are suffering violence from your husband, aren't you? Physically and psychologically… and your children too."
Celine (confused): "How… how did you know?"
Bella (with mild sarcasm): "Let's say news travels fast… just kidding. It's obvious from how he behaves. Listen to me—do you need help?"
Before Celine could answer, Bella continued quickly:
Bella: "Okay, I'll assume you said yes — I have a plan…"
Celine cut her off suddenly, her voice sharp and strained:
Celine: "No! I don't want your help."
Bella (surprised): "What?"
Celine: "I can protect my children, and I will take them out of this hell by myself. Thanks for your kindness, but I don't need your pity."
Silence followed. Then Bella's voice came, calmer but heavier than any shout:
Bella: "How long?"
Celine (confused): "Pardon?"
Bella: "How long will you stay like this? How long will your children remain prisoners of this hell? How many years have you been married?"
Celine: "Eight… maybe nine. I don't remember."
Bella let out a bitter, scornful chuckle:
Bella: "Eight years of hell is enough to bury you alive. Time is not on your side, Celine… but I still am."
Rain began tapping on the windows in the background, as if the sky were listening too.
Bella (calm but sharp): "Eight years is enough to make you stand up, Celine. Don't tell me you're still waiting for that man to come back to the way he was — you know he won't."
A few seconds of silence, broken only by Celine's ragged breathing and the sound of running water from the sink.
Celine (hoarse, barely audible): "It's not that simple, Miss Bella… there are two children, a life I built from nothing… I can't just destroy it like that."
Bella (firm): "He's the one who destroyed it, not you. And your children know it more than you do — trust me. I can tell from their voices that they fear him more than they love him."
Celine gasped softly, the words cutting through her.
Celine: "You don't know him. He isn't always like that… sometimes he comes back like he used to, laughing with the kids, apologizing… he makes me believe there's hope… then the next day… he's a monster again."
Bella: "No. He doesn't come back the way he was. He only comes back to grab the thread again. That's not a return — it's a trap."
(brief pause; Bella's tone becomes more practical)
"Listen, I don't want promises or perfect plans. Just do what I tell you, okay? Turn on your phone, put it on speaker, and hide it somewhere inconspicuous. I want to hear everything happening in the house. I won't intervene — I'll only listen."
Celine (clearly hesitant): "Why? What will you do with the recording?"
Bella (bluntly): "I'll keep it as evidence. Because if you ever decide to leave, you'll have nothing. Nobody will believe you without proof. Trust me — I know this kind of man. They wear a saint's face in public and the devil behind closed doors."
Another silence, then Celine inhales shakily.
Celine (whisper): "Bella… if he finds out… he'll kill me."
Bella (firm but warm): "He won't know. Just do as I say. Be selfish for once — think of Amy and Leo, not yourself. What I'm doing now is for them too."
Celine looked at her children sitting on the floor with an odd, quiet stillness, their worried eyes on her. She reached out and stroked their heads with trembling tenderness, then whispered in a soft voice:
"Okay… I'll do it."
Bella smiled despite the anxiety in her chest and pressed the record button on the listening device in the car next to her.
Bella: "Good. Now just act natural. I'll stay on the line — don't hang up. If things get worse, say one word only… 'light.' Okay?"
Celine: "Light… understood."
Celine took a deep breath, placed the phone on a small shelf near the cups where it wouldn't be obvious, then headed to the kitchen to finish preparing the tea.
From the car, Bella put an earpiece in and the dark glass reflected her tense, focused face. Beside her, Lucian sat silently, watching her with worry, then said in a low voice:
Lucian: "Are you sure about this?"
Bella (not taking her eyes off the screen): "Yes… this time we won't wait for another victim in tomorrow's headlines."
Celine steadied herself. The kettle boiled in the kitchen; Leo and Amy sat at the small table drinking warm milk, watching their mother with anxious eyes.
Amy (softly): "Mom, will dad drink tea with us?"
Celine (with a faint smile): "Yes, but then you'll finish and go to sleep, okay?"
The children nodded silently.
Celine felt every molecule of air tremble around her, as if the house itself breathed fear with her. She lifted the tray carefully — three cups of tea, a small spoon trembling between her fingers from the tension — and walked toward the living room.
Outside, Bella could hear everything through the phone: ragged breaths, slow footsteps on wooden floors, a slight clink of cups. Lucian watched the glow of her phone screen in silence.
Lucian: "This is madness… just sitting here and listening."
Bella (coldly): "Silence is sometimes stronger than any action."
Inside the house, Dean sat on the couch, his shoulders tense, his eyes fixed on Celine. When she set the tea before him he gave no thanks; he only lifted the cup and blew on it lightly, then said quietly with a buried rage:
Dean: "Finally, you're acting like you should."
Celine stood mute, hands clasped before her, eyes on the floor.
Dean (sipping slowly): "You know… when I saw that rich girl and how she looked at you, I felt like maybe you told her something… something about us."
Celine (weakly): "I didn't say anything."
Dean: "Are you sure? Because I don't like lies, Celine. You know that well."
The spoon clinking against the cup sounded too loud, making the children in the kitchen startle.
Bella in the car clenched her fist, her gaze hardening.
Dean (placing the cup on the table): "Do you know what the problem is? You're not scared enough."
Celine (trembling): "I… I don't understand what you mean."
Dean rose slowly; his steps were heavy and his eyes dark. He moved toward her until he nearly touched her, leaning in so his voice was close to her ear.
Dean (in a frightening whisper): "I mean fear makes people obey. And you… you forgot how to obey."
A tear fell from Celine's eye but she didn't move. In the kitchen, Amy held her glass and shivered, whispering to her brother:
Amy: "He's angry again…"
Leo (whispering): "We have to protect Mom, like the knight."
He gripped her small hand with the courage of a child who doesn't fully grasp the danger.
Outside, Bella whispered to herself: "Come on, say it, Celine… the word."
But the word they agreed on did not come. Instead, the voice on the phone was Dean, barking sharply:
"Lift your head and listen to me!"
The sound of a loud slap cut through the silence… followed by the crash of a cup shattering on the floor.
Bella's face froze; she clenched the phone in her hand so tightly it almost cracked.
Lucian (in a stunned whisper):
"Bella…"
Bella (cutting him off firmly):
"Quiet!"
Inside, Celine's breath was ragged, her voice hoarse:
"Dean… for the children, please…"
Dean:
"The children?! Everything you're doing right now is destroying them! Because you still don't know your place!"
In the kitchen — Amy cried silently, while Leo crawled out from under the table, trying to peek toward the living room. The phone was still on the shelf, recording everything.
Bella (whispering, voice trembling):
"Everything's being recorded… hold on, Celine, just hold on."
At that moment, Dean turned toward the kitchen after catching sight of a small shadow. His voice thundered:
"Leo! Come here!"
The sound of a chair scraping, small hesitant footsteps approaching… then — the call suddenly cut off.
Silence filled the car.
Bella stared at her dark phone screen, frozen, breathing hard.
Lucian:
"The line's dead."
Bella (low, furious):
"Damn it… he knows."
Bella yanked open the car door, determination etched across her face.
"I'm done listening. It's time to act."
Lucian grabbed her arm, trying to stop her:
"Bella! You can't just walk in there — the man could be dangerous!"
Bella (resolute):
"I know. But if I don't walk in tonight, there might not be anyone alive by morning."
She strode toward the house with steady, deliberate steps. The dim streetlight glowed faintly on her face as the cold wind whispered through the almond tree branches — as if warning that what was about to happen wouldn't be easy.
Lucian stood frozen for a second, watching her approach the door, then muttered to himself:
"I'm going after her… but first, the police need to know."
He pulled out his phone, dialed emergency services, gave the address in a calm but firm tone, then hung up and ran after Bella with cautious steps.
Bella reached the door and pressed the bell softly. Her heart was racing, but her expression stayed composed.
After a few seconds, heavy footsteps approached, and Dean opened the door slowly, his face showing surprise and hesitation.
Bella (smiling calmly, her body language confident):
"Ah… good evening again. I just realized I forgot my pen here earlier — a very precious one — and I wanted to come get it, if you don't mind."
Dean (confused, hesitant):
"Oh… I'll get it for you."
Bella (tilting her head back slightly, smiling politely):
"No, no, I honestly can't remember where I left it exactly… so maybe I'll need your help to look for it."
Dean hesitated, then slowly opened the door wider, allowing her inside.
Bella stepped in lightly, thinking quickly:
"Judging by how he's acting, he doesn't know about the plan between me and Celine. That's good. But why did the line cut? Could the phone have fallen? Or maybe the battery died?"
At that moment, Lucian arrived behind her. His expression instantly shifted — cold, imposing, every movement radiating strength that couldn't be ignored.
He stopped a short distance from Dean, his piercing stare unrelenting. Lucian's frame dwarfed Dean's, and the man immediately felt the weight of threat pressing down on him.
Dean (hesitant, calculating whether to fight, but his sanity pulling him back):
"What the…"
He looked at Lucian's towering build, and fear crept in — violence was no longer an option.
Lucian stood still, silent, his eyes delivering a single message: One wrong move… and you'll regret it.
Bella (confident, as if negotiating):
"Well then… shall we find that pen?"
She moved forward slowly, her hand out as if merely searching for a small object, while her eyes tracked Dean's every twitch. Every detail around her was noted with precision.
The air was thick with tension — light footsteps, Dean's uneven breathing — every sound felt amplified. Yet Bella moved with steady, unshakable composure.
Her eyes darted around the room, searching for Celine and the children. They weren't in the living room. Lucian followed her in; Dean trailed behind, his face tightening with irritation.
Dean (with disdain):
"Tch, is that pen really worth all this fuss?"
Bella smirked sarcastically while running her hand along the couch cushions:
"Of course it is. It's a rare pen — worth half a million US dollars."
Lucian and Dean both froze for a second, taken aback by the number. Lucian muttered in disbelief:
"All this… for a pen?"
Bella replied coolly:
"Why not? The ink's of the finest quality, and the cap's made of rare oak."
Dean muttered under his breath, staring at her, something nagging at the back of his mind:
"She's insane. Who pays that much?… Filthy rich — no wonder her boyfriend's such an arrogant jerk, spoiled by her money. If I were in his place…"
Bella, still pretending to look for the pen, wished she could just find Celine and the kids. But instead, she spotted the pen — and before she could discreetly hide it, Dean noticed.
Dean:
"Ah, there it is. You found it."
Bella felt a wave of frustration — she hadn't found the family. Lucian stepped closer and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Suddenly, Celine appeared, looking down at the floor, holding her children's hands. Amy wiped her tears with one small hand, Leo tried to steady his face though his eyes were red and tired, and Celine herself looked ashamed and broken — a faint red mark burned on her cheek.
Shock and confusion filled both Bella's and Lucian's faces.
Dean's eyes burned with anger as he shouted:
"Didn't I tell you not to leave the room — you and the kids?"
Celine gripped her children's hands tightly and said hoarsely:
"I refused to stay. Is that a problem?"
Dean snapped back:
"A problem? Of course it's a problem — you disobeyed me! And that's something I don't tolerate."
Celine (with suppressed fury):
"And why should I care what you tolerate or not? You're not the master of my life."
Dean (mocking, his voice dripping arrogance):
"Stop talking nonsense! Who else would've kept a roof over your head? Who's been feeding you and your brats? What would you do without me?"
Before Celine could speak, Lucian's voice cut through the air like a blade:
Lucian:
"She could do far more than you could ever imagine."
Dean turned to him in disgust:
"And who the hell do you think you are, meddling in my family's business? You and that arrogant rich girl — get out of my house."
Little Leo suddenly stepped forward, his voice trembling but earnest:
"Please, Mr. Lucian… don't leave us."
Lucian's heart clenched; he smiled softly at the boy.
Lucian:
"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."
Dean (furious, sneering):
"And what's that supposed to mean, huh? Who the hell are you anyway? Acting all high and mighty just because you're the lover of this pompous, spoiled rich woman?"
"Huh."
Lucian's face flushed red with embarrassment at that awkward sound that escaped him. What snapped him back to his senses was Bella's sharp voice calling his name:
"Lucian!"
Lucian stammered, "Oh—yes, sorry."
His eyes steadied again, tone cold and cutting:
Lucian:
"What nonsense are you spouting? I have nothing to do with whatever you're imagining... but I know exactly what you do to your family, you disgrace."
Dean (stepping toward him angrily):
"How dare you talk to me like that… in my own house!?"
Lucian didn't respond. He just met Dean's glare with silent, unflinching defiance.
Meanwhile, Bella observed the scene with calculated calm, her eyes flicking between the two men. Then she turned to Celine and her children, moving quickly toward them and studying their faces closely.
Bella (softly, her voice filled with genuine regret):
"I'm sorry… I came too late."
Celine (with a faint, broken smile):
"It's alright, miss… just having you here… gives me a bit of hope."
Bella's chest eased at those words. The children pressed close to her with timid smiles, and for a fleeting second, a gentle smile touched Bella's own lips.
Dean noticed, and suddenly his anger erupted. He stormed toward them — toward Bella — waving his arm:
"Get away from my kids before I kill you!"
He pulled a knife from his pocket.
Celine screamed in panic:
"Don't you dare hurt Miss Bella!"
Dean lunged, but Lucian caught his wrist — the one holding the knife. Dean struggled, but Lucian's grip tightened, his strength overwhelming. There was a sharp crack — the sound of a bone giving way. Dean's face twisted in agony as Lucian forced both his arms behind his back, restraining him completely.
The children hid behind Bella's legs, terrified. She watched the scene with icy composure, while Celine stood frozen in disbelief.
A heavy silence filled the air before Bella spoke quietly to Celine:
"Do you want to take revenge — even just a little?"
Celine stared at her restrained husband. Her lips trembled, rage and hesitation battling inside her. Bella leaned close, whispering in her ear, her voice sharp and deliberate:
"He deceived you, beat you, humiliated you… made you and your kids live in fear. Are you really going to let that slide? One or two slaps would be enough to remind him what fear feels like — to let him taste loss for once. It's your choice… but," she added with a sly smirk, "if I were you, I wouldn't waste the opportunity."
The air was thick with tension. The choice was now in Celine's hands — to stay silent or finally strike back.
Seconds stretched. Dean bent forward in pain, wrists locked behind him, panting. The children trembled behind Bella, seeing only the adults' feet. Celine stood still, staring at her own shaking hands.
A strange heat built in her chest — anger, shame, confusion — then, like a sudden flare, she stepped forward and struck Dean across the face.
A loud smack filled the room.
It wasn't out of cruelty — it was release.
Everyone froze. Everyone except Bella, who smiled faintly, proud.
Dean's cheek burned red; his fury twisted into pain and disbelief. But it didn't change one truth — that slap was a declaration: Celine's patience had ended.
Then came more slaps, one after another. Celine screamed through her tears, hitting him with years of pent-up rage. Dean's face reddened further, his pride shattered.
Bella's tone shifted — calm, steady, almost motherly. She placed a firm hand on Celine's shoulder:
"That's enough. He's had his share. Physical revenge ends here. From now on, we use the law — not violence. We already have evidence, and the police are on their way."
Celine collapsed onto a nearby chair, exhaling a deep, trembling breath. A single tear fell — but it wasn't a tear of fear. It was the beginning of freedom.
Outside, blue lights flickered in the street. The sound of approaching sirens cut through the night.
Lucian stepped back from Dean, holding his phone.
"I called emergency services a minute ago. They're here now."
Moments later, two officers entered, boots firm, caps glinting under the lights. One spoke clearly and firmly:
"Everyone stay calm. You—on your knees. Hands where I can see them."
They checked Dean, disarmed him, and cuffed him. Dean shouted curses and struggled, but the officers' grip was solid.
Officer (coldly professional):
"You're under arrest for domestic assault and possession of a weapon inside a residence. You'll give your statement at the station."
Celine watched him being restrained with empty eyes. Her voice came out small but resolute:
"I just don't want my children hurt anymore."
One officer noticed a recording device on the table.
"Do you have evidence?" he asked briskly.
Bella held up her phone — it was still recording the earlier call.
"Yes. Everything's on here — the threats, the shouting, the violence."
The officer nodded approvingly, taking the device.
"Good. This will strengthen the case. We'll take your statement. Thank you for cooperating, Miss Bella."
Celine's children peeked out from behind Bella and ran to their mother's arms.
Outside, neighbors gathered, whispering. But now, for the first time, Celine had something she hadn't in years — witnesses, protection, and the law on her side.
Bella gave Lucian a subtle nod, signaling him to follow the police and handle the procedures. He understood immediately and left.
Then she sat by the children, gently wiping a tear off little Amy's cheek. Turning to Celine, she spoke in a practical yet warm tone:
"I'll help you sort everything — the report, a temporary shelter, the legal process. This recording is key. Can you take the kids somewhere safe tonight?"
Celine lifted her head, tears glinting but her voice firm:
"I just want them away from all this. I want to start over."
Lucian handled the formalities with the officers, explaining the situation. The lead officer told them about a family protection center and a temporary safe shelter for mothers and children.
Officer (calmly):
"We'll take him into custody. You'll give your full statement soon. The children will be placed under protection for now, and the evidence will be submitted to the prosecutor."
Before leaving, Bella stood beside Celine at the door, holding her hand firmly:
"I'll stay with you until you're safe — truly safe. We'll handle the witnesses, the report, everything. You're not alone in this."
Celine smiled — the first real smile she'd managed in years.
"Thank you… I don't know what I did to deserve people like you."
Bella (softly):
"No need for thanks. Just follow my instructions — document everything. Bring your ID, the kids' papers, photos of the injuries if possible. We'll make this case solid."
The police led Dean into the patrol car, lights flashing blue as they drove away — leaving behind a house that still trembled from what had happened.
Lucian glanced back once, catching sight of Celine hugging her children tightly. Then he looked to Bella — a quiet exchange of gratitude passing between them.
The scene faded on a calm note:
two sleeping children in their mother's arms,
Bella packing a small bag,
Lucian speaking with the officer —
and a new beginning taking shape for Celine and her kids.
•••
The Next Morning — Paris, Morning News Broadcast
The TV screen showed footage from the previous night: police cars, flashing blue lights, and shocked neighbors speaking to the camera.
The anchor's serious voice spoke in French, rising over the images of the incident:
> « La nuit dernière, la police française est intervenue dans une affaire de violence domestique grave qui a failli tourner au drame. Grâce au courage de la témoin, Mademoiselle Bella, et à la rapidité d'action du jeune homme en pleine ascension dans le monde de la célébrité, Lucien, une femme et ses deux enfants ont pu être sauvés du danger. La police a ouvert une enquête officielle et a placé l'agresseur en garde à vue en attendant sa comparution devant la justice. »
"Last night, the French police intervened in a severe domestic violence case that almost turned into a tragedy. Thanks to the courage of the witness, Miss Bella, and the quick action of the rising celebrity Lucien, a woman and her two children were rescued from danger. The police have launched an official investigation and detained the assailant pending trial."
The image then cut to the anchor's face as he continued with a faint smile:
> « Cet incident aurait pu se terminer de manière tragique sans l'intervention de ces deux personnes qui ont fait preuve d'un courage exceptionnel. Leur histoire est devenue le sujet de conversation de toute la société ce matin. »
"This incident could have ended tragically if not for the intervention of these two individuals who showed remarkable courage. Their story has become the talk of society this morning."
---
Elsewhere…
In Bella's Apartment
The same news broadcast played on a large screen in front of a gray couch in a stylish apartment flooded with morning light.
Lucien sat on the couch wearing a short-sleeved red shirt and loose black pants, his eyes fixed on the screen, his expression a mix of boredom and disbelief.
Behind the couch stood Bella, dressed in a loose black short-sleeved shirt and wide blue pants.
In her arms, she held her pet — a small smiling Quokka named Shimo — who stared at the screen curiously, as if he understood what was being said.
Bella (sighing in exasperation as she tightened her arms around Shimo):
"Oh God… I didn't want anyone to know we were there. I just wanted to help, not become some kind of hero on TV."
Lucien chuckled softly without looking at her, speaking with light sarcasm:
"Well, fate decided otherwise, Miss Celebrity. The world loves heroes — especially the ones who don't want fame."
Bella let out a long sigh and shook her head in defeat.
"Fame is the last thing I need right now…"
At that moment, Amory came down the indoor stairs, his hair slightly tousled, wearing a tight white shirt that showed his lean, athletic frame and loose violet pants. He held a coffee cup in his hand, clearly having overheard everything.
Amory (with a faint smile as he walked toward them):
"The news heroine again, huh?"
He approached Bella, slipped an arm gently around her neck, leaned down, and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, whispering by her ear:
"My wife was born to be a hero."
Bella (slightly surprised, then laughing softly):
"Amory… you're dramatic even in the morning."
She let out a short laugh — but on the other side of the couch, Lucien froze in place, his cold eyes fixed on them with a trace of irritation.
He tried to ignore the scene, but his hand clenched the pillow beside him unconsciously.
Amory noticed and turned toward him with a sly smirk, then looked back at Bella and kissed her cheek again — longer this time — never breaking eye contact with Lucien. It was obvious he was doing it just to annoy him, and to enjoy the feel of Bella's soft skin at the same time.
Lucien (muttering under his breath):
"How lovely… a live show first thing in the morning."
Amory flashed a small, victorious grin, while Bella sighed and raised her brows in mild despair.
She gently pulled away from him and said:
"Enough acting, Drama Queen. This isn't some war movie."
Amory (placing a hand on his chest dramatically):
"Oh, so this is the tragic ending? You're leaving the husband who fought for his love?"
Bella couldn't help but laugh and shook her head, heading toward the kitchen with Shimo in her arms. The Quokka made a short sound, as if joining in her mockery.
She stepped into the kitchen, still holding Shimo in her left arm. She had barely taken two steps before her phone buzzed in the pocket of her blue pants.
Lifting Shimo slightly higher with one arm — as if the little creature was used to this — she reached into her pocket with the other hand and pulled out her phone.
The name on the screen read:
My Mommy 😘❤
She paused for a few seconds, staring at the name with a very calm smile… not quite happy, not quite sad — just warm. Different.
A soft sigh — the kind of sigh from someone who knows where their true sense of safety lies.
Then came a real smile.
She pressed the answer button…
To be continued…
And here we are, at Part Two of Chapter Nine, almost at the finish line!
Only one chapter left — Chapter Ten — before the end of Volume One.
Then we'll begin Volume Two, which will consist of four interconnected parts revolving around a single central event.
I hope you're excited for what's coming next!
Tell me — has anyone started noticing or connecting some of the threads from previous chapters? Especially from Chapters 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and even this one.
See you next time ❤️