CHAPTER 130: THE POLICE ARE HERE

"You are being patient with me, Roman," Julie whispered, her voice barely steady as her trembling hand rose to his face.

Her fingers brushed against his cheek, tracing the faint stubble there. His skin was warm beneath her touch, grounding, real.

Her eyes softened, lashes heavy with emotion. "I don’t think I will ever get a man who is so patient with me... over—"

Her voice trailed into silence, her throat tightening, words lost in the whirlwind of feeling.

Roman didn’t let her finish. He leaned forward, closing the distance in one decisive motion, his lips pressing over hers. Firm, commanding, yet achingly gentle.

Julie’s breath caught. Her hands tightened instinctively against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

His lips molded against hers with practiced restraint, not demanding, not rushing—simply sealing her confession with the kiss she hadn’t dared to complete in words.

The world around them quieted. For a moment, it was just their shared breath, the lingering taste of each other, and the warmth that spread like fire between them.

---

Meanwhile, across the city, chaos brewed at the Jenkins Mansion.

The once-proud estate stood silent behind its tall iron gates, but outside, the storm of voices refused to quiet.

Paparazzi had gathered for over an hour, their cameras flashing with every slight movement behind the curtains.

Reporters shouted questions, voices clashing in a relentless barrage.

"Mr. Jenkins! Is it true you were involved in the cover-up?"

"Lewis! How long have you been hiding this scandal?"

"What about your daughter Rachel—does she know the truth?"

Lewis Jenkins remained inside, pacing the length of his study like a trapped animal.

His usually immaculate hair was disheveled, his tie loosened, sweat beading on his forehead.

He dared not step out, for fear of what the mob outside would do to his reputation—or his family.

His breathing was uneven, hands trembling as he clutched a glass of whiskey, though he hadn’t taken a sip.

His eyes were bloodshot, darting toward the windows where flashes of light bled in from camera shutters.

From the corner of the room, Rachel stood, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

Her face was pale, lips pressed into a thin line.

She stared at her father, her expression carved from stone, but her eyes—her eyes betrayed the tempest within.

She had loved him once. She had admired his power, the way he commanded respect wherever he went.

But tonight, she saw something else.

Tonight, she saw the man who had torn another family apart—the man whose choices had orphaned the boy she once called her fiancé.

Her chest tightened painfully. Logan...

Her brow furrowed as a thought sliced through her like a blade.

If Logan’s father was truly killed, then who are the people he calls his parents now? Who exactly is the Steve family?

Her heart clenched with sorrow, a sting of guilt lodging itself deep.

She hated herself for it, but pity flickered within her.

Pity—for the man she had once betrayed, the man she had accused.

"Father," she whispered hoarsely, her voice trembling. "Do you even realize what you’ve done? Because of you... because of you, Logan grew up with nothing. You ruined him."

Lewis snapped his head toward her, his face darkening, but before he could speak, another voice cut in.

"Rachel."

Cassandra’s tone was sharp, though her eyes were weary. She stood by the doorway, her elegant gown wrinkled, her composure strained.

She had been silent for too long, watching her husband unravel.

But now, seeing the disgust in her daughter’s eyes, the cracks in their family could no longer be ignored.

Rachel’s lip trembled, but she held her mother’s gaze. "He destroyed someone’s life. Someone I—" Her words broke, her throat tightening with a bitterness she couldn’t swallow. She turned away, unable to finish.

Lewis slammed the glass onto the table, the sharp clink echoing like a warning.

"Don’t you dare speak to me as though you understand what it takes to protect this family! Everything I did, I did for power, for stability. You wouldn’t last a day in my shoes!"

Rachel flinched but refused to cower. "And what did it cost you, Father? What did your ’power’ buy? Look outside! Look at what they’re saying about you!"

The room fell heavy with silence. Even Cassandra’s lips tightened into a grim line, her eyes narrowing as she watched her husband unravel further.

She had feared this day would come, feared the truth would claw its way to the surface. And now, here it was, ripping apart everything they had built.

From outside, the sound of engines rumbled, mingling with the cacophony of voices.

A ripple of commotion spread through the crowd of reporters.

"Police! The police are here!" someone shouted.

The flashing of cameras grew wild, the voices rising into frenzied chaos.

Blue and red lights reflected off the mansion’s towering walls.

Inside, Lewis stiffened. His shoulders squared, though his hands shook as he straightened his suit jacket.

The fear he had tried to hide bled through his eyes.

Rachel’s breath caught. "They’re here for you."

Cassandra closed her eyes briefly, her heart sinking. She whispered, more to herself than anyone else, "It was only a matter of time."

A heavy knock rattled the front doors. The pounding was steady, authoritative.

"Lewis Jenkins," a firm voice called from outside. "By order of the court, you are under investigation. Open the door."

Lewis’s face turned ashen. He looked at his wife, then his daughter, but neither moved to shield him.

Rachel’s lips parted, her voice quiet but venom-laced. "This is what you built, Father. And now it’s collapsing on you."

Another pound on the door. The echo boomed through the halls.

Lewis inhaled sharply, his chest rising as though he would fight, but Cassandra stepped forward, her hand lifting with weary finality.

"Don’t make this harder than it already is," she said softly. Her eyes glistened, not with love, but with the grief of a woman who had known this day was inevitable.

The door swung open. Uniformed officers stepped inside, their presence heavy, suffocating.

Cameras outside exploded in a frenzy, capturing every second. Reporters shouted wildly, microphones stretched over the gates.

"Mr. Jenkins! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Did you order the death of Logan’s father?"

"Is Rachel involved in the cover-up?"

Rachel stood frozen, her arms hugging herself tightly, watching as the police surrounded her father.

Lewis’s face twisted with a mix of anger and fear as they reached for his wrists.

"No!" he barked, stepping back. But his voice cracked, betraying his weakness.

The metallic click of handcuffs cut through the air like thunder.

Rachel turned away, her hands trembling, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

Cassandra remained still, her gaze steady, as though she had finally resigned herself to fate.

And outside, the chaos of flashing lights and screaming questions continued, sealing the Jenkins family’s downfall in the eyes of the world.

The cold clink of the handcuffs echoed in the grand Jenkins hall, a sound far too sharp for a house that had once boasted of wealth and elegance.

Lewis Jenkins stood stiff, his face strained between fury and dread, his lips pressing into a hard line as if he could hold his dignity together with sheer will.

Two officers flanked him, their gloved hands steady but firm as they guided him toward the door.

The red-blue flash of the sirens spilled through the tall windows, casting grotesque streaks across his once-imposing figure.

"Wait—" Cassandra’s voice cracked suddenly, breaking through the silence like fragile glass shattering.

She stumbled forward, her composure unraveling.

Tears blurred her eyes until the outlines of her husband and the officers became a watery smear.

"Lewis!" Her voice carried both accusation and desperate affection, a contradiction that tore her apart.

"You’ve ruined us... ruined yourself... but you’re still—" Her breath broke into a sob, her hand clutching the air as though reaching for him could hold him back.

Lewis twisted his head slightly, his jaw taut. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered to her, and the mask slipped—fear, regret, and the weight of years of secrets crashed into his gaze.

But just as quickly, he steeled himself, his lips curling into a bitter grimace.

"Cassandra," he rasped, his voice low but trembling at the edges. "You knew. All these years—you knew. Don’t weep now."

Her tears spilled freely down her cheeks, hot and unrelenting.

"I feared it, yes! I feared it every day of my life! And that fear... it’s what kept me silent." She clutched at her chest, her sobs raw, wracking her frame.

"Do you know how many nights I lay awake, praying this day would never come? And now—now it’s here. My fear has swallowed us whole!"

The officers pulled at his arms, but Lewis resisted, planting his feet briefly, glaring at his wife.

"Don’t you dare make this about you, Cassandra. Everything I did, I did for this family—for you, for Rachel."

His voice thundered, but there was a hollow echo to it, like a man trying to believe his own lie.

Rachel, standing at the base of the stairs, flinched at his words. Her eyes burned, but not with tears. They burned with betrayal.

"For me?" she spat, her voice trembling but sharp. "Don’t twist this, Father. You didn’t destroy Logan’s family for me. You did it for power. For control. Don’t put your sins on my shoulders."

Lewis’s nostrils flared, his face darkening. "You’re too young to understand—"

"I understand enough!" Rachel’s voice cracked, but she did not falter. Her hands clenched at her sides as she shook her head, disgust rippling through her.

"You made me a pawn in your games, you made me lie, and worst of all—you left a boy orphaned and broken! That’s not protection. That’s destruction."

The officers tugged again, their patience thinning. "Sir, we need to move."

Cassandra’s sobs grew louder, echoing off the marble walls.

She pressed both hands to her face, her body shaking uncontrollably as her wails filled the once-proud mansion.

Her tears carried years of silent complicity, years of pretending not to know the truth, years of turning her face away from the rot at the core of her family.

And now, with the world outside screaming, cameras flashing, and the law closing in, her misery spilled unrestrained.