Chapter 78: 78
The sun adorned the sky in all its glory by day, and at night the moon shone as brightly as it could yet neither could cast their light into Nix’s darkened world.
Days slipped into weeks, and weeks blurred into a month, but still, not a single word had been heard nor a single glimpse caught of the man whose very name once struck fear into the heart of fear itself.
The dynasty went on with its affairs, rejoicing over the success of their deceitful plots, unbothered by his absence. The business world, however, cried out for him headlines screamed, investors begged for his return but Nix paid no attention. His room had become a reflection of his soul,cold, silent, and drenched in darkness.
He had thought he was finally piecing his life back together. But just as the edges began to fit, everything shattered again.
"Uncle?"
The small, hesitant voice broke through the silence. Cicilia stood at the door, peeking into the pitch-black room. She was the family’s last hope, the only anchor strong enough to pull him out of his shell.
Fumbling with the phone she held, she switched on its flashlight. The weak beam cut through the gloom, sweeping across the floor until it found him.
Nix lay sprawled on the ground beside his bed, his head tilted back against the mattress, his hair tousled and his expression empty. The room reeked faintly of stale air and whiskey, and the curtains had been drawn so tightly that not even a sliver of sunlight dared to slip through.
Her small voice trembled as she spoke again. "Uncle... you look like a mess."
She took a cautious step forward, the light shaking slightly in her hand, illuminating the man who had once been untouchable now reduced to a hollow shell of himself.
"Uncle, you look like a mess," Cicilia said softly, walking closer until she was standing right in front of him. Her tiny hands tugged at his arm, urging him to sit up.
Nix blinked, his tired eyes adjusting to the faint light from her phone. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, running a hand through his disheveled hair before reaching for the lamp switch. The sudden glow revealed the shadows that had carved deep lines into his face.
"Cicilia..." he exhaled her name like a sigh. "What are you doing here?"
She pouted slightly, stepping closer with all the bold innocence only a child could have. "Everyone said you’re sad because Aunt traveled far away, and you won’t come outside. Uncle, are you mad at Aunt Carmela?"
Her question struck deep a blade of innocence piercing straight into his guilt-ridden heart. He forced a weak smile, pulling her gently into his arms as if afraid she’d vanish too.
"No, my little one," he murmured, his voice rough but tender. "I’m not angry at your aunt."
"Then why won’t you come out?" she asked, pulling back to look at him with wide, serious eyes. "You know, Aunt Carmela told me she’d be traveling to a faraway place and that I shouldn’t cry when I miss her. And I’m not crying, Uncle. So you shouldn’t cry either."
He tried to hold it in the tears, the ache but her words broke through the walls he’d built. A single tear escaped, tracing a quiet path down his cheek. Cicilia reached up with her small hand and wiped it away.
"She also told me to show you this video when she finally travels," the little girl continued, her tone turning half-playful, half-scolding. "But you’ve been hiding in your room for so long. Do you want her to be angry at me?"
She handed him the phone she’d been holding. It was warm from her grasp, the screen faintly smudged by her small fingers. Nix hesitated for a moment before unlocking it the wallpaper was a familiar photo of Carmela smiling at the beach, her hair whipping in the wind. His breath hitched.
There was only one file in the gallery a video titled "For You."
With trembling fingers, he tapped it open. The screen flickered to life, and suddenly, there she was.
Carmela.
The light in the video was soft and golden, almost dreamlike as she sat by the window, sunlight spilling across her face. Her expression was calm, gentle, but her eyes carried that familiar glimmer of sadness that only he could read.
"Hello, Mr. Dean..." Carmela’s soft voice filled the room, her face appearing on the screen with that familiar teasing smile. "Or should I say Nix? No... Nathan?"
She paused, scratching the back of her head with a sheepish grin, clearly flustered. "Honestly, I don’t even know what to call you anymore. Are you an onion or something? Because every time I peel back a layer, I end up crying."
Nix’s lips quivered into a weak smile, the tears already welling in his eyes.
"And let’s not forget," she continued, tilting her head with a mock glare, "that demon version of you, the one that made me jump into the sea when you knew I couldn’t swim. Really? What kind of man does that to the woman he loves?"
She let out a long breath, shaking her head with that familiar exasperated sigh. "You made me lose my mind, Nix Dean."
Despite himself, Nix chuckled a broken, breathless sound that came out between tears.
Her smile softened. "And come on, Nix Dean... are you a fool? Who tells the woman they love that they only brought her under their care to exploit her, huh? You should’ve just said you loved me from the start. I might’ve even married you right then and there."
She scoffed, wiping a stray tear. "Ah, you’re such a coward." Her voice cracked slightly before she added, quieter, "Or maybe I’m the coward... for not being able to tell you all this to your face."
Her gaze lifted, eyes shimmering as she tried to blink back the tears. "I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay by your side till the end, Nix. I’ll have to break my promise to you. I’m leaving to... visit my in-laws." She tried to laugh at her own weak joke but only managed a trembling smile.
A heavy silence filled the room as she took a slow breath, her expression growing more somber.
"Nix... I’m sick," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not just sick.. I’m dying. Don’t blame Zamiel for not telling you. I made him promise to keep it from you. I thought... maybe I’d get better, or maybe the results were wrong. But I was only fooling myself."
Her eyes darted away from the camera as she admitted softly, "I had to take so many medications every day... it became exhausting. Sometimes, I even flushed them down the toilet just so you wouldn’t notice." She let out a shaky laugh, quickly fading. "I’m done pretending, Nix. I’m tired of bottling everything in. Tired of convincing myself I have forever with you, when I barely have two months left."
Nix’s hand trembled as he gripped the phone, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. His breath grew shallow every word she spoke was a dagger cutting deeper.
"I don’t know when this video will reach you," Carmela continued, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, "but when it does... Please don’t hate me too much. Because I love you, Nix Dean."
She smiled faintly through her tears. "And I’ll always love you.. even in death."
The screen froze for a second before fading to black.
Nix stared at the phone, his reflection faintly visible on the darkened screen. Then it all crashed at once,the composure, the strength, the walls he’d built to keep the pain at bay. A choked sob tore from his throat as he pressed the phone against his chest and pulled Cicilia into a desperate embrace.
He held her so tightly she could barely breathe, his tears soaking into her hair. "She’s gone... she’s really gone," he whispered brokenly, his body trembling as if the words themselves shattered him further each time he said them.
Cicilia’s small hands gripped his shirt as if trying to hold him together. She didn’t fully understand, but she could feel his pain.
The door creaked open, and Tom, Xavier, and Luna stepped in quietly. The sight before them froze them in place, Nix, the unshakable Nix Dean, crumbling in the dark.
Without a word, they joined him. Luna knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around both Nix and Cicilia. Tom’s hand rested on Nix’s shoulder, and Xavier’s usually stern eyes glistened with unshed tears. None of them spoke; there were no words heavy enough to hold the weight of that moment.
For the first time in a long time, silence didn’t mean distance, it meant mourning.
After a while, Luna gently stroked Cicilia’s hair. "Cicilia, sweetheart, come with Aunt Luna, okay? Uncle Nix and Uncle Tom need to talk."
The little girl hesitated, then looked up at Nix. He managed a faint nod, pressing a trembling kiss to her forehead before letting her go.
"Okay," Cicilia whispered, her voice small and sad. She took Luna’s hand, and together they quietly left the room leaving Nix, Xavier and Tom in the dim, heavy silence that followed.
"I... I wanted to know why she left the hospital the way she did and what caused her death, so I investigated. It turns out someone sent her the clip of.. of her killing Aunt.."
"I destroyed that clip myself. I remember it clearly, I destroyed it because I was afraid she would find out the truth." Nix’s confession landed like ice. For a long, suspended second Nix did not move. Then the room rewound into slow motion, his fingers unclenched, then tightened a vein stood out at his temple; the color drained from his face until all that was left was bone and shadow. The air around him seemed to thicken. Something small and human grief, and fatigue flickered, then the part of him he had buried for years stirred awake, long-dormant and hungry.
He drew in a breath so slow it felt rehearsed. His eyes, which had been wet moments before, went hard and unreadable. He did not shout. He did not break. Instead his voice came out flat, low, like steel sliding from a sheath. "Someone in the dynasty had the same clip and sent it to her. They requested to meet and... you know."
"Names."
"I’ve sent the leads to your email." Tom’s tone was careful. Nix let out a single, deep exhale a sound that was part surrender and part ignition. He turned his head left and right as if checking the room for witnesses, then rose to his feet. With each measured step, the old world returned to him: the muscle memory of command, the familiar weight of rage folded into purpose.
"Rally our men. We will go hunting tomorrow." The order was absolute. He moved to the curtains and pulled them open. Sunlight flooded the room and cut across the dust motes, but it did not lift the darkness that had settled in him; it only lit the lines of resolve on his face. From his window he could see the grounds the places he had not walked for weeks and the black-clad guards who still kept the perimeter. They looked insignificant from above, like chess pieces waiting for his hand.
"About Camillo," Tom continued, forcing Nix back to the file. For a moment Nix had forgotten the name; grief had been a quicker, louder current. Now he listened.
Tom spoke rapidly, laying out the threads "Camillo was the unseen power behind certain moves, the "big boss" who had clashed with the scientist, the same scientist later tied to Carmela. The clash had ended with the scientist’s face damaged; Tamila, Carmela’s mother, came from an ordinary family but was connected to Rena who, according to sources, was Camillo’s sister.
On the night Camillo declared his feelings, the scientist proposed; Tamila accepted. Or at least she married the scientist and Camillo’s proposal had been complicated by history, because her family had been massacred one night, and every suspicion pointed to Camillo" Nix let out a short, hollow laugh the story echoed his own, a tragic mirror. "What a tragic love story."
Tom went on "On the night of the bachelorette, Tamila slept with Camillo but later believed it was the scientist or was made to believe so. After the child was born, the scientist sent one of the newborn, the photo of Carmela and a DNA report to Camillo. Camillo attempted to reclaim his daughter, but the scientist had threatened Tamila and the child’s lives, forcing Camillo to back off and lie low.."
"And the letters I received from Tamila?" Nix asked, brow raised.
"They weren’t from her," Tom said bluntly. "They were from him. He watched the dynasty closely but could do nothing out of fear for his daughter. He controlled the narrative from the shadows.. What’s odd and worth noting is the confusion over the children’s sexes." Tom scrolled his phone, eyes narrowing. "Some claim Tamila had a boy and a girl. Others say two girls."
Nix let out a soft scoff and turned to face Tom and Xavier, the corner of his mouth lifting not with humor but with something colder. He folded his arms, the gesture a brief, human pause before action.
"One step at a time, shall we?"