CHAPTER 100: THE JENKINS ARE MY PARENT..

"The Jenkins are my parents... or let’s just say, they used to be," Julie murmured, her voice breaking as tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

The weight of old memories pressed against her chest—memories she had long chosen to bury.

But now, with everything unraveling, they clawed their way back up, raw and unforgiving.

---

Back at the private hospital, nestled in the heart of D State...

Rachel paced the length of the private suite, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor tiles.

The rhythmic sound filled the otherwise tense silence of the room.

Her hands trembled slightly as she clenched and unclenched them.

After a moment, she paused, drew in a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

Her chest rose and fell slowly, methodically—calming herself before she let the performance begin.

When she opened her eyes again, she bit her lower lip, crafting the perfect expression of confused concern with just the right hint of betrayal.

"How dare they... how did they even dare to sell the shares?" Rachel asked suddenly, spinning around and locking her eyes onto her father’.

Her voice was sharp but slightly choked, as if the act of speaking those words caused her pain.

"Without even informing us," she added, her lips trembling with indignation.

Lewis Jenkins sat up in bed, wincing as he adjusted his pillow. His face, though pale, hardened as her words settled into his mind.

"Yes... yes, but they’ve already sold it now. What matters—" he paused, exhaling deeply, "—is to whom."

Rachel took a step closer, her brows furrowed in apparent thought.

"You’re right, Father... but do you have someone in mind?" she asked, her voice now lower, silkier, as if coaxing the answer from him.

Lewis shook his head, disappointment painting his features. "No. I have no idea who bought them."

Rachel turned away, her expression tightening as she masked her triumph with a thoughtful frown.

"Father, think carefully. It must be someone rich... powerful enough to afford all their shares at once," she said, slowly circling the room like a predator in contemplation.

Suddenly, Lewis’s eyes widened. "Wait—dear God—I think it’s that bitch," he growled, his eyes igniting with fury.

Rachel gasped, feigning disbelief as her eyes mirrored his shock. "What? No, Father... Julie can’t do such a thing. You know her.

You raised her," she said in a breathy whisper, her tone laced with innocence and dismay.

Before Lewis could respond, Cassandra’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

"Who else would it be if not her?" she snapped, her head tilting to the side as if the very thought disgusted her. "She’s probably done enough with men to afford it."

"Mother, no!" Rachel cried, turning to her with wide, startled eyes. But Cassandra stepped forward, her glare sharp.

"Are you sure, Rachel? Are you sure you’re not with that leech?" she asked, her voice cold, probing.

Rachel froze. Her lips parted, but no words came at first.

"No, Mother! Of course not," she finally managed, her voice rising an octave. Internally, her heart raced. I can’t let it all fall back on me... not now.

"I was just thinking—maybe she isn’t the one. But... maybe you’re right," Rachel added, lowering her head in submission, aligning herself with her parents’ suspicions.

"Yes, believe us," Cassandra said sharply. "We know far more than you do. She’s done enough damage already. And if you still don’t see it, then you’re more foolish than I thought."

Rachel nodded quickly, her head bobbing up and down. "I do... I see it now," she said.

"So," Lewis said, his voice low and grave, "what are we going to do... now that she’s the one?"

Cassandra’s sharp voice cut through the lingering silence of the room like a blade.

Her brows were furrowed in restrained anger, her arms crossed tightly beneath her chest as she turned toward her husband.

"Lewis, didn’t you say you were going to ask someone to look into it?" she asked, her tone accusatory, her foot tapping against the white tiled floor in an impatient rhythm.

Lewis shifted on the hospital bed, avoiding her piercing stare. "I did," he murmured, running a tired hand over his face.

"Didn’t the investigator give you any results yet? Hasn’t he found out where she might be living?" Cassandra pressed, raising a single, sculpted brow at him.

"I know, I know," Lewis said, his voice heavy with weariness. "I spoke to the man, but since then... nothing. I haven’t heard back. He said he’d call as soon as he had any solid information."

Cassandra scoffed, her lips curling with disdain. "Then you should’ve found someone else—someone faster and more competent. We can’t just sit around while she moves pieces behind our backs."

Lewis’s shoulders slumped. His expression tightened as he shook his head, defeat clinging to him like a second skin.

"If it were before—back when we had the power, the money—I would’ve hired another in a heartbeat. But now... now, Cassandra, we don’t have much left."

He exhaled deeply, the breath dragging from his lungs like it carried the weight of all his regrets.

His eyes fluttered shut, as if the mere act of speaking had exhausted him.

"Let’s just wait for him," he said softly, a trace of hopelessness in his voice. "Maybe he’ll call soon..."

---

Back at Roman’s mansion...

The air was still, heavy with a tension neither of them dared break too quickly.

Julie stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, knuckles pale from the pressure.

Her voice was hesitant when she finally spoke, eyes lifting cautiously to meet Roman’s.

"I’m not a Wilson," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m... I’m a Jenkins."

Roman didn’t flinch. His expression was unreadable—neither surprised nor disappointed. Just still. Silent. Watching.

Julie searched his face for a reaction, anything, but there was none.

Not knowing he had known all along, that he’d only been waiting—patiently, quietly—for her to tell him on her own.

She looked down, shame curling in her stomach. Her voice trembled slightly as she continued, "I lied to you... and I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, but at the time I had no other choice."

Roman remained silent, letting her speak without interruption, his gaze fixed on her with quiet intensity.

"I was afraid," she confessed, her throat tightening. "Afraid of what you’d think... afraid that my past would ruin everything."

Roman’s brows drew together slowly, not out of anger—but out of something deeper.

Concern. A shadow of pain flickered across his features as he stepped closer.

Then finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured.

"What happened that night?" he asked. "Why were you walking alone in the middle of the road? And why did the doctor say you were in a state of shock?"

His tone wasn’t accusing, but it held weight. A quiet demand for the truth.

Julie swallowed hard. The memory clawed at her chest like it wanted to stay buried—but Roman’s question left no room to hide.

The silence that followed was thick, filled with emotions unspoken—regret, guilt, fear... and something gentler too. A desire to understand. To protect.

"It’s because I was kicked out of the family," Julie said quietly, her voice shaking with the effort to keep herself composed. "Just like that... and I hadn’t even done anything, really."

Roman didn’t interrupt. He already knew, had known the truth long before she spoke it.

But he stayed silent, his presence steady, allowing her the space to let it all out.

Julie drew in a trembling breath.

"I was just called to the living room," she continued, her eyes growing distant as the memory unfolded.

"No warning. Nothing. I didn’t know what was happening. The first thing that happened was a slap."

Her voice broke, and Roman instinctively reached for her hand, his fingers curling around hers gently, grounding her.

Julie looked up at him, her face pale and streaked with tears.

Then she closed her eyes, and a fresh wave spilled down her cheeks. Her voice cracked open, raw and full of anguish.

"I never did what they accused me of, Roman. Never," she whispered, her shoulders trembling. "No one listened. No one believed me. I had never... ever been with any man."

Her voice fell into a whisper, thick with the injustice that still burned in her chest.

"My sister... Rachel—the one I thought would defend me, the one I trusted—she was the one who made it worse.

She claimed I confessed to things I never did. Lied straight to their faces..."

Roman’s hand tightened slightly around hers.

Julie’s breath hitched. "They believed her. Just like that. Without even asking me. Without hearing my side. It was like they were blind... like I wasn’t their daughter."

She pulled her hand from his slowly, the movement soft but full of hurt. Her voice rose, bitter and aching.

"I’m their child, right?" she asked, almost to herself. "Doesn’t that mean something?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned away from him, burying her face in her palms.

"I’m also human," she wept. "But I was misunderstood... mistreated... since I was sixteen. It was like they were waiting for an excuse to throw me away."

Her sobs came freely now, unrestrained, and her whole body seemed to curl inward from the pain.

Roman sat still beside her, watching, the storm behind his own eyes growing darker—not because he doubted her, but because he believed her far too deeply.