The Mistress Who Ran Away With The Twins-Chapter 173: Cold Confrontation: The Truth

Rome...

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Silence fell like a heavy curtain.

The kind that presses against your ears until every breath feels too loud. It wrapped itself around the room, thick and suffocating, and for a moment I wondered if this was what it felt like when something finally broke beyond repair.

My mother didn’t answer right away.

She stood there clutching the envelope as if it had suddenly grown teeth, her fingers tightening around the paper until it crumpled slightly in her grip.

Her lips parted, then closed again, as though words rose to the surface only to drown before they could escape. For the first time in my life, she looked... cornered.

My father straightened, his expression hardening as he took a step closer, his presence filling the space the way it always did when he wanted to assert authority.

"What is that? what are you accusing your mother of, Rome?"

I didn’t look at him.

My eyes never left her.

"Well?" I pressed, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside my chest. "You’ve always been good at explaining things. Justifying your actions. Go on. Explain this."

She swallowed.

"I—" Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again, shoulders lifting as if she could still pull herself together.

"Rome, you shouldn’t believe everything written on paper. Documents can be forged. Lies can be dressed up as facts."

That was all it took before a bitter, humorless laugh escaped me, scraping my throat on the way out.

"You really think I’d come here with something I didn’t verify?" I asked. "You really think I’d accuse you without making sure every word in that envelope was real?"

Greece finally looked up from his phone, his brows drawing together.

"What is it now, Rome?" he said slowly. "You’re starting to scare Mom. What’s going on?"

I reached into my coat and pulled out another set of papers, slapping them onto the table one by one.

Bank records.

Employment rejections.

Legal notices.

Blacklisting requests.

Every single one traced back to the same source.

Her.

"These," I said, my voice dropping dangerously low, "are records of job rejections Sylvia received over the years. Restaurants. Hotels. Private firms. Even places that were desperate for workers."

My mother’s face drained further with every word, the color leaching from her skin as if the truth itself was draining the life out of her.

"She didn’t just get rejected," I continued. "She was blocked. Quietly. Systematically."

My father frowned deeply, shaking his head as though denial might erase what was laid out in front of him.

"That’s impossible. Why would your mother do that? No matter how much you accuse her, she wouldn’t have the power—"

I finally looked at him.

"Yes, she does," I said. "She had the power to destroy someone. And she already did."

His mouth snapped shut, the words dying before they could form.

I turned back to my mother. "You used your influence and money. You made sure she couldn’t work. Anywhere."

"That’s not—" she began, desperation creeping into her tone.

"You made sure she had no choice," I cut in sharply. "No independence. No way out."

Her hands were trembling openly now, the envelope shaking as if it might slip from her grasp. For a moment, she looked small. Fragile. But I knew better.

"I did it for you," she said suddenly, her voice rising, breaking through the tension like glass shattering. "Everything I did, I did for you!"

Something inside me cracked.

"For me?" I repeated softly, disbelief bleeding into every syllable. "You destroyed her life for me?"

"She wasn’t good for you!" my mother snapped, the last of her carefully crafted mask falling away. "She was a distraction. A weakness. She made you reckless, emotional—soft. You were throwing away everything we built for some woman who didn’t even know her place!"

My fists clenched at my sides.

"You don’t get to talk about her like that."

"Why would you even defend her now?" she scoffed, her expression turning cold and sharp. "It’s been years, Rome. Don’t tell me you talked to her again and she complained to you. Is that why you divorced Ingrid? Because of her?"

Her voice shook with fury and fear, the kind that comes from realizing control is slipping.

"Do you know what that woman would’ve done to you? To this family? She would’ve become your weakness—something people would exploit. She’s a walking scandal that would’ve destroyed you. I protected you before it was too late!"

I stared at her in disbelief.

I couldn’t believe the mother I once admired for her gentle nature was capable of this. The same woman who used to smooth my hair when I was a child, who told me the world was dangerous and that she would keep me safe. She had controlled me my entire life, and I let her—because I believed she was protecting me.

But hearing how thoroughly she destroyed Sylvia...

I couldn’t even look her in the eyes anymore.

"You didn’t protect me," I said coldly. "You controlled me."

My father stepped forward, his voice sharp with authority. "Enough. Lower your voice. You don’t get to talk to your mother like that."

"No," I snapped, finally meeting his gaze. "You don’t get to silence this. Not now."

I turned back to my mother, every word tasting like blood.

"You manipulated her. You backed her into a corner so tight she had no choice but to disappear."

She shook her head violently, tears spilling freely now.

"I never told her to leave you. She left on her own. She even ran off with another man. She cheated on you! A woman like her doesn’t deserve someone like you!"

"No," I shot back. "You took everything else away from her first. You took her away from me. And I know now—you manipulated things to make it look like she cheated."

I locked eyes with her, watching the flicker of shock she couldn’t hide before rage replaced it.

"You never cared about her," I continued. "You made her believe the entire world was against her."

I stepped closer, my voice lowering.

"You even used me," I said quietly. "You let me believe she left because she didn’t trust me. Because she didn’t love me enough to stay."

Tears streamed down her face—not from regret, but desperation, from the fear of losing what little control she had left.

"I was trying to save you," she sobbed. "Don’t you see everything I did for you? If I had let you stay with her, you wouldn’t be where you are now. You wouldn’t have reached your position if you stayed with her!"

"By ruining her?" I said coldly. "You were wrong. Completely wrong."

I glanced briefly at my father, restraining his anger, and at Greece, watching silently from the side, his expression unreadable. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"I was never happy without her," I continued. "If you hadn’t destroyed our relationship, maybe we’d be happy now—with our children."

"K-kids?" my mother whispered, stunned.

My father’s face mirrored her shock.

"Kids?" he echoed. "What do you mean, kids, Rome?"

I met his gaze, then glanced at Greece—who wasn’t surprised at all. Amusement flickered briefly in his eyes before I shut it down with a glare.

"Yes, Dad," I said evenly. "Kids. She was carrying my children when she ran away. And Mom is the reason I never got to be with them."

The room exploded.

"What?" my father blurted out, stumbling back a step. "You’re saying she was pregnant—no—children?"

"Yes," I said, looking straight at my mother. "She raised them alone. While you destroyed her life."

My mother’s lips trembled, her voice barely a whisper.

"I—I didn’t know. I swear. I didn’t know she was pregnant. But even so, how can you be sure those children are yours?"

I felt sick hearing it.

"Yes, what I did was manipulation," she continued weakly. "But if she truly loved you, she wouldn’t have left. She ran away while pregnant. That only means one thing—that the child wasn’t yours."

"Enough," I said sharply. "Hearing you say that makes me sick."

I straightened, exhaustion settling deep into my bones.

"I can never come back to this family as your son," I said coldly. "That’s the only mercy I have left because I don’t know what I’d do if I listened to you any longer."

Silence crushed the room.

My father finally spoke, his voice unsteady. "Rome... is what you said true?"

I looked at Greece, whose faint smile vanished under my glare.

"If you want confirmation," I said flatly, "ask Daniel. He knew about them long before I did. He knows everything—what my mother did to Sylvia included."

I turned back to my mother.

"You didn’t just hurt Sylvia," I said. "You hurt my children. You stole years I will never get back."

She collapsed into the sofa, shoulders shaking.

"I was afraid," she whispered. "Afraid of losing you to someone like her. I thought what you felt was just a fleeting admiration. I thought I was doing the right thing. Please... understand my intentions, son."

"You lost me the moment you decided my life belonged to you." I said.

I turned toward the door.

"Rome," my father called. "Where are you going?"

I paused, but didn’t turn back.

"I came here for answers," I said. "Now I have them."

"And that’s it?" Greece asked cautiously.

I glanced over my shoulder, my voice final and cold.

"This family will never touch Sylvia again," I said. "You don’t get to interfere. You don’t get to manipulate. You don’t get near my children."

My mother looked up, tears streaming. "Please... let me at least see them."

"No." I said without hesitation.

I opened the door.

"If you truly care," I added quietly, "you’ll leave her alone for the rest of your life."

Then I walked out.

The door closed behind me with a soft click.

Outside, the morning air was sharp and cold. I inhaled deeply, letting it burn my lungs, grounding me in the present.

I had spent years blaming Sylvia for betraying me.

Years believing I failed her.

Now I knew the truth.

And knowing didn’t bring relief.

It brought resolve.

Because whatever it took—whatever bridges I had to burn—I would not let history repeat itself.

Not with Sylvia.

Not with my children.

Not ever again.