C9 You were never married to him

''Not without the shares."

"Dream on if you think I'll hand over my shares, my daughter's inheritance, so that your ungrateful son can pass them to his bastard child!"

Constance's eyes narrowed. "He deserves it after enduring you for years."

"Get out."

"Is this your final decision?"

"Out."

"Fine. You pushed me to this. Don't blame me for being cruel."

Louise, caught in the crossfire, stepped forward, desperate to mediate. "Monique, Constance, let's calm down and talk."

"I'm done talking."

Constance's disdainful gaze bore into Monique. "Prepare for a lonely life. I'll ensure you lose custody of Sahara."

Monique's rage flared. Sahara was her lifeline—what would she do if they took her away? No. She couldn't let that happen.

"You won't dare."

Constance turned, resolve in her eyes. "Weekend deadline."

Monique 's chest rose and fell with suppressed fury.

At the door, Constance paused. "By the way, if there's a bastard here, it's not our Alex but your precious Sahara."

Monique felt like a bomb had exploded in her head when she heard the words.

"Stop right there, Constance. Explain yourself!"

Monique walked towards her, her heart racing. The air hung heavy with tension.

Constance's eyes, sharp as daggers, bore into Monique. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in on her. Monique's breath caught in her throat.

"What the hell do you mean?" Monique demanded, her anger flaring. "Explain yourself!"

Constance's lips curved into a mocking smile. "Wouldn't you like to know," she replied, her tone dripping with disdain.

Louise, ever loyal to Monique, stepped forward, blocking Constance's path. Her ample frame seemed to fill the room.

"Sorry, Mrs. Constance," Louise mumbled, but her eyes told a different story.

Monique squared her shoulders, determined to unravel this mystery. She closed the gap between herself and Constance.

"Explain yourself," Monique pressed, her voice low and dangerous.

Constance laughed. Her laughter was cold ; a bitter wind cutting through the room. She leaned in, her eyes never leaving Monique's face.

"So you should know," Constance drawled, "you and Clinton were never really married."

The words hung in the air, a revelation that shattered Monique's world. Each word was like a shard of glass piercing her heart.

She staggered back, her mind racing. How could this be true? The man she'd loved, the vows they'd exchanged—were they all a lie?

Monique's ice-cold gaze locked with Constance's, demanding answers. The room was a battlefield of emotions, and the air crackled with tension.

The revelation hung heavy in the air, thick enough to choke on. Monique's mind spun, each memory turning into a chipped mirror reflecting distorted versions of their life together.

Constance, her eyes glinting with a strange satisfaction, continued, "The Justice of the Peace who officiated your wedding was a fake . You were living a blissful lie, thinking you were his wife. But legally, you were just a woman he lived with."

Monique's breath caught, and her eyes widened with disbelief. The weight of Constance's revelation pressed down on her, leaving her feeling disoriented and betrayed.

''Fake?''she rasped, her voice hoarse.

"Is this some sick game, Constance?" Her voice wavered between anger and desperation.

Tears welled, blurring the woman before her. "Ten years," she choked, the weight of every shared laugh, whispered secret, and stolen kiss turning to ash on her tongue. "Ten years believing I was his ..." The word tasted foreign, bitter: "Wife."

''Wife? You can only dream about it. It will never be your turn to be my son's wife.'' Constance stated, smirking.

Her smirk was akin to a gut punch to the younger woman.

''No , it's a lie. It can't be true...''

Constance laughed and her laughter echoed through the room. "No game, my dear. Just the truth."

Monique's mind raced through memories, questioning the validity of every shared moment. The times she'd referred to Clinton as her husband, the warmth of their shared bed, the dreams they'd built together—all of it now seemed like a carefully crafted illusion.

Rage, hot and primal, flickered in her chest. "You planned this, didn't you? You did this. Why?" Monique demanded, her voice shaking with fury.

Constance's smile widened, revealing a hint of triumph. She couldn't bother herself hiding the truth.

The more desperate and hurt Monique seemed, the wider the smile on Constance's face grew.

"But why?" Monique demanded, her voice an octave higher.

"Why? Why the hell not. I never liked you for my son. You weren't good enough," she spat, the words laced with venom. "You were never worthy of my Clinton.''

Tears streamed down Monique's face. "I was the best thing that ever happened to your son."

Constance's smile vanished; she took a step forward and glared at her almost former daughter-in-law, her eyes blazing with anger. "The best thing? The best thing you say? You were a nightmare disguised as a daydream. Anyone who crosses paths with you is bound to ruin their lives."

Monique stared at her blankly, wiping away tears.

"Does he know?" she asked quietly after a while.

"What does it matter?"

The room tilted, the air thinning. Monique stumbled back, Louise's concerned face a blur at the edge of her vision. She leaned against the chair, sobs wracking her body, a primal scream against the lie she'd lived.

"After everything I did for you, two years ago..."

Constance's countenance changed. She looked like she had swallowed a fly, however, it was fleeting.

"So what? Nobody asked you to make the sacrifices. Truth be told, you only did that to tie my son to you forever."

"Is that how lowly you think of me?"

"They say first impressions make the deepest cut; unfortunately for you, you could not buy me with your money."

"So you decided to play god with my life? Why?" Monique, on the verge of losing it, yelled.

"It was the only way to save my son."

"You are really too cruel, Constance..."

With her world crumbling around her, the implications of Constance's revelation rippled through her, leaving devastation in its wake. She felt a sense of free fall, her anchors to reality slipping away.

The realization that her marriage, her family, and her identity were built on a lie left Monique grappling with an overwhelming sense of loss. The room spun as the weight of truth pressed down on her, and she struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the deceit.

Constance watched, a cold satisfaction in her eyes, as the truth took its toll on Monique. The once confident and poised woman now stood broken, her world shattered by the revelation.

Monique's anger surged, and her fists clenched. The room seemed to close in around her as the revelation settled like a heavy stone in her chest.

Her anger morphed into a chilling emptiness. "And Sahara?" she whispered, the name a fragile thread holding her sanity together. ''Did you think of her when you were playing god with our lives?" Her voice trembled, a mix of fear and protectiveness for her daughter.

Constance's expression turned dark. "Legally, she's his bastard child. And only over my dead body will he ever legitimize her birthright."

Constance walked away smirking. Monique slipped to the floor, a sobbing mess. She didn't care if the other woman heard her wretched cries. She has just lost the one thing she had held dear.

Her love for Clinton and marriage to him meant everything. She had abandoned her family, a life of luxury, and a fiancé who had set the world at her feet for him.

Louise approached her gently, her gaze sympathetic.

"Miss Monique?"

Monique looked up, her tear-streaked face breaking Louise's heart.

"Louise, what do I do? What do I do now? It was all a lie..."

Louise sighed. "No, it wasn't. Your marriage to Mr. Clinton was real."

Monique looked up, disbelief etched on her tear-streaked face. A self-deprecating smile tugged her lips. "Louise, just because I want it to be real doesn't make it real."

"No, Ms. Monique. Yes, Constance really did plan to sabotage your marriage, but she never succeeded."

Monique looked up, disbelief etched on her tear streaked face.

"Louise?" Her voice trembled,''what are you trying to say?''

The chubby elderly woman sighed. She moved closer to the heartbroken girl, sat next to her, and held her in her arms as she rested her head on her chest.

"Do you remember how I came to be by your side?"

Monique frowned, wondering what her being by her side all these years had to do with the lie she had been living.

"You fell in love with Daniel."

Louise scoffed. "You still believe that after all these years?"

"Louise?"

"Jacques sent me to your side."