My Enemy’s Daughter

CHAPTER 22



AURORA LEAL

A few hours before….

I knew this day would come sooner or later. “Fate always comes back to collect its debts,” my mother used to say. I avoided going to prison when I asked for a divorce, at the time of his arrest the media tortured me so much that I was depressed for two weeks, I never went to see him, not even to understand the whole situation, but I knew he would come after me when out and honestly it took longer than I expected.

I stare at the pill like it’s my lifeline, unsure whether or not to take the strong sedative to calm my nerves. Anxiety medications started to be part of my life in adolescence, when my mother’s absence became almost unbearable and crises came along with sleepless nights. Something lighter at first, but over time just a black streak could have an effect.

“Damn!” I yell, throwing the medicine into the trash can.

I place a hand on my stomach, convincing myself that this is the right thing to do.

I grab my bag, walking to the exit of my apartment, not forgetting to visualize my profile in the large mirror in the room and notice the bulge in my abdomen. I shake my head, expelling the thread of guilt that threatens

to appear.

He wanted a child.

Henrico always made his intentions clear, a great and perfect family, just like it was with their parents. But unfortunately that wasn’t my dream, nor was I thinking about having children, so every time he suggested something I changed the course of the conversation. I didn’t love him. I couldn’t have your kids.

But…

I gasp, pulling the air out of my lungs as the elevator threatens to open. Thank God I don’t have neighbors around me asking me about my dad or how the pregnancy is going.

Daddy.

The great Augusto Leal.

The only man who could convince me to do anything, even lie to the judge.

I step out of the elevator, ignoring the greetings of a few acquaintances in the Hall and heading straight out of the building, hailing the first taxi that comes along, grateful that it is empty.

I’m not thinking when I give the address of the first house I lived in, where Dad and the imposters now live. I shift in my chair, uncomfortable with all the thoughts running through my head right now.

He wanted to know about that night.

The night I should have gone to see my dad, but it was actually Peter who was waiting for me.

“Faster Please.” I ask the driver.

I bite the corner of my lip, picturing the night perfectly in my head. The night was cold and gloomy, although the rain was just starting when I left, I knew a storm was about to break out, I just didn’t think it would happen turned out to be a perfect analogy years later.

“Thanks.” I say to the taxi driver, driving him much further than the ride and heading straight for the huge luxury home.

The house my mother chose!

I walk right in, without knocking or making any noise to attract attention. I know Dad is home, I know because I know his schedule, so I go straight to his office.

He lifts his head and raises an eyebrow as soon as he sees me, his mouth twisting in distaste and I conclude that my presence is not welcome.

“Aurora.” he says, much less kind than he used to be when the other wasn’t in his life.

“Father.” My voice comes out shaky, almost like a small groan of pain.

“Your husband is arriving, is there anything you want to talk about before he arrives?” I skip the part that Peter has a meeting with him without my knowledge.

I walk over to his desk and place my bag on one of the chairs, working up the courage to spill what I’ve been holding back for years.

“Henrico came looking for me.” I decide to speak immediately.

His expression changes from detached to furious, causing me to take two steps back.

“What did you say?” he asks, coming out from behind the table and heading towards me.

“Nothing but…” I trail off, pondering my words.

“But? There’s nothing to say, girl. This man is our enemy thanks to you!” he yells, taking advantage of my insecurity.

Thanks to me.

“What are you talking?” I ask, not understanding her accusations.

He huffs, going to the bar and pouring himself some whiskey.

“Well, you were the one who married him in secret, weren’t you?” Your little head planned this to piss me off.” he says wryly, drinking the amber liquid to the end.

I straighten my shoulders, knowing he’s right about that, but not exactly.

I married Henrico in an act of rebellion, the man I loved had just left the country, choosing to prioritize his career over me. My life was in chaos, I hated sharing the same roof as daddy’s new wife and I hated hearing the bastard call me sister, every time I looked at her I was reminded that the woman who gave me life was lifeless and I was alone in the world.

I wanted to get back at Peter, rub it in his face that I didn’t need him and that there were other options for me. I also wanted to challenge Dad, to show him that if he could marry anyone and replace Mom, I could do whatever I wanted too. And I did. I married a country man, simple and honest, completely different from the men I was used to. But Augusto Leal doesn’t know that I ended up liking that life, that deep down I wanted to be happy with Henrico.

“That night…”

“That night is in the past. Dad concludes, giving me an impatient look.

“You brought Peter back.” I accuse.

“And now you’re married and expecting a beautiful baby, aren’t you?” ” He says wryly, pulling a smile at the corner of his lips.

“You made me lie to the judge!” He manipulated me into saying that Henrico received strange visitors, when in fact he never did.

“Not that you’ve seen.” He corrects her, pouring her another glass of

I laughed.

“You are unbelievable.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Yeah, you’re a fool. Don’t tell me that meeting the ex-convict made you have any conscience, don’t tell me you still have feelings for him.

snort.

“I…”

“Let’s go dear.” Say what you want at once! He yells, anger taking over his face.

A pain in the bottom of my belly starts to bother me and I have to put my hand in and hide it.

“I want to speak the truth. I never saw Henrico talking to any drug dealer.

Dad snorts again.

“You saw your truck yourself.” I conclude.

I shake my head.

“You planted this.” I say, feeling the pain intensify.

He raises his eyebrow.

“This is a very serious charge, especially as you were the sole beneficiary of your arrest.

I frown at his suggestion.

“What?”

“Well, you got married not long after, never visited him, and were the main witness to have him arrested.” He accuses, maintaining a firm and cold stance.

“You guided me. I was shaken and confused, that night I was going back to get my things at home and leave with Peter, I was glad I didn’t find Henrico at home, but I didn’t know about his arrest until I got his call!

He smiled.

“And you were free, I took the little opportunist out of our lives and got elected.

“You set all of this up.

“Yes, but don’t think I’m the only one to blame for all this.” Your words suggest that there is someone behind the whole setup and when I think about questioning it my pain increases due to nervousness and tension and I can’t hide it.

‘I am your daughter!’ I cry out, feeling the liquid wet my legs.

“Yes, and that’s why you’re going to keep your mouth shut.” Say, impersonal.

My vision blurs and I feel my temperature drop, leaving my hands sweaty and cold.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dad asks, looking fatherly for the first time.

“I am not feeling well.” Is all I can say before I hit the ground, feeling my consciousness slip away and all I hear before passing out is Peter’s voice screaming in alarm.


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