Marrying My Father's Enemy-Chapter 80: Beatrice ‘s Breakdown

Chapter 80: Beatrice’s Breakdown

Vanesa left the living room, clutching her phone tightly as if it were her shield.

She had been quietly reading an article about Callian Reed, smiling to herself, when Beatrice had passed by earlier, too preoccupied to notice.

Now, she didn’t know why her mother had suddenly decided to zero in on her.

She could hear the sharp click of Beatrice’s heels behind her.

"Vanesa!" Beatrice’s voice hit through the air like a whip.

Vanesa paused but didn’t turn around.

"Don’t walk away from me!" Beatrice hissed in a shaking voice.

Before Vanesa could react, Beatrice grabbed her arm roughly and dragged her toward the garage.

"Mom, what are you doing?!" Vanesa protested, trying to wriggle free.

Beatrice didn’t answer; her grip tightened as she marched forward.

The door to the garage creaked open, and the cold, barely bright space enveloped them.

Beatrice pushed Vanesa against the side of the car; her hand suddenly grabbed Vanesa’s face, forcing her to look up.

"Why?" Beatrice’s voice cracked, her breath turned ragged. "Why do you look like him?"

Vanesa blinked, confused and frightened. "What are you talking about?"

"Why do you look like him?" Beatrice’s voice grew louder, more frantic. Her other hand came up, trembling, before she slapped Vanesa hard across the face.

Vanesa gasped, her cheek stinging. "Mom, stop!" she cried, tears formed in her eyes.

Beatrice ignored her, her face twisted from rage. "You disgust me!" she screamed, her nails dug into Vanesa’s cheeks. "Every time I see you, I see him!"

Vanesa sobbed, her hands trying to push Beatrice away. "Please, Mom, stop! I didn’t do anything!"

"You didn’t do anything?" Beatrice spat, tears fell down her face now. Her voice broke into a hysterical scream. "You exist! That’s enough!"

She slapped Vanesa again, harder this time.

"Why do you have his nose? His eyes?" Beatrice sobbed uncontrollably, her words tumbled over each other. "I gave you everything! Everything, and this is what I get? A reminder of my biggest mistake?"

Vanesa slid to the floor, clutching her face, her sobs matched her mother’s. "I’m sorry," she whispered, trembling. "I’m sorry for whatever I did."

Beatrice took a step back, her chest inhaled as if she couldn’t breathe. She raised her hand again but stopped mid-air; her whole body started shaking.

"Get out," Beatrice said through clenched teeth, her voice eerily calm now.

Vanesa looked up, her face streaked with tears. "What?"

"GET OUT!" Beatrice screamed, her voice echoed through the garage.

Vanesa scrambled to her feet; her legs wobbled as she stumbled toward the door.

She didn’t dare look back.

Once the door slammed shut, Beatrice let out a guttural scream, grabbing a wrench from the workbench and hurling it across the room.

The metallic clang reverberated through the space as it hit the concrete floor.

She grabbed the nearest tool—a screwdriver—and threw it with all her strength.

"Why?" she screamed at no one. "Why is this my life?!"

Her hands shook violently as she swept a box of bolts and screws off the table, sending them scattering across the floor.

She kicked over a toolbox; the sound of metal hit and started ringing in her ears.

"I hate this!" she shrieked. "I hate all of this!"

Beatrice sank to her knees, her fingers clawing at the cold floor as if she could tear it apart.

Her sobs came in jagged bursts, her entire body wracked with pain she couldn’t contain.

"You ruined me," she whispered hoarsely, her hands trembling. "You ruined everything, Steven. You ruined me, Henry. You ruined me, everyone."

She slammed her fists against the floor; the skin on her knuckles split from the force.

"I gave everything!" she screamed, her voice cracked. "I built this! I made this family! And what do I get? Lies! Deceit!"

Beatrice’s screams turned into whimpers as her strength gave out.

She leaned back against the car, her head tilted up toward the ceiling as tears continued to pour down her face.

Her breaths were shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at nothing.

The garage was silent now, save for the faint sound of her gasping for air.

The mess around her—the scattered tools, the overturned toolbox, the splattered bolts—felt like a reflection of her own shattered mind.

"I’m tired," she whispered to herself; her voice was so soft, one could think it was a lullaby. "I’m so tired."

She wiped at her face with trembling hands, smearing her makeup further.

Beatrice stayed there on the floor for what felt like hours, the cold seeping into her skin.

For the first time in years, she felt truly alone and defeated.

"It was all your fault!" she said it, forcing her jaw to clench tight enough that the teeth inside her mouth could be cracked.

"Eira Hax..." she muttered. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

She began shaking her head in disbelief. "I got rid of your mother, but the bitch’s daughter came back like her old ghost."

She scoffed while sitting on the ground. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" She began laughing louder this time.

"What did I do wrong?! Aggghh!"

Beatrice put her hand into her hair and started ripping it apart. "Where was my mistake?! I allowed that bastard child to live! I allowed it! I did!" she yelled.

"And this bitch, again, came back for me and my life! How dare you? How dare you think you can take anything from me! How dare you!!!!"

Beatrice was one of a few who knew about Eira’s birth.

Back then, Steven helped her hide this fact from Henry.

Beatrice knew how much Henry loved Helen and could’ve prevented everything.

He would’ve loved Eira because she was the daughter of Helen, the only woman Henry ever loved.

"I had no other choice. I needed to eliminate her. I needed her to disappear, to be gone forever... that’s why I... that’s why I did what I had to do..."

Beatrice placed her hands on her belly. "My pregnancy. My baby... it was Henry’s... no, no... it is Henry’s. It can’t be his... no... no... I won’t allow it!"

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦