Chapter 5 — Yin-Yang Contract

I walked toward her step by step, looking down from my height with cold indifference.

Angel, from the very moment you secretly photographed me, from the instant you burst into my private room clutching that forged divorce paper, you should have anticipated this day.

I already gave you a chance. I called my brother, hoping against hope that he would step in and stop you in your tracks.

Yet it was the two of you who chose to throw that mercy away with your own hands.

Turning my gaze away from her broken form, I looked directly at the officers.

Officer, you may take her away now.

Without a moment of hesitation, the two policemen stepped forward and slapped the cold metal cuffs around Angel’s wrists.

No! I refuse to go to prison! I will not!

Angel threw herself into a frantic, violent struggle, her hair tumbling about in wild disarray, her makeup smeared across her tear-streaked face. Not a single trace of her former, glamorous celebrity allure remained. At that exact second, the heavy doors of the villa were pushed violently open from the outside. A tall, imposing figure strode into the dim foyer, carrying the weary dust of a long journey against the harsh evening light. It was Lucas. He had finally returned.

The moment Lucas stepped into the house, a scene of utter chaos met his eyes. Angel was standing in handcuffs, the police officers wore stern, resolute expressions, and I stood nearby, my face pale as death, holding our unsettled son tightly against my chest. His gaze plummeted instantly into a freezing winter chill.

What is the meaning of this?

His voice was low, laced with an undisguised fatigue, but carrying an overwhelmingly heavy pressure that demanded answers. Before I could even part my lips to speak, Thomas burst through the door like a madman. Evidently, he had traveled back alongside Lucas. The second his eyes landed on Angel in handcuffs, they turned bloodshot, and without a single rational thought, he lunged straight toward me.

Cynthia! You vicious, venomous bitch! Are you truly not satisfied until you have completely ruined her life!

He raised his hand, aiming a vicious blow directly at my face. By sheer instinct, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the stinging impact that never arrived. Instead, a dull, heavy thud echoed through the living room, followed instantly by a sharp cry of agony from Thomas. I snapped my eyes open to find Lucas standing solidly right in front of me. His fist, unhesitating and merciless, had struck Thomas squarely across the jaw. The force of the punch sent Thomas stumbling backward several paces, blood immediately welling at the corner of his mouth.

Lucas! You actually dare to strike me! Thomas cried out, clutching his bruised face, his eyes wide with a mixture of raw fury and disbelief.

Lucas slowly pulled back his hand, his eyes swirling with a tempestuous storm, and drew me securely behind him, shielding me with an absolute posture that brooked no argument.

And if I struck you, what of it?

His voice cut through the air like shards of ice.

I always considered you a brother, but how did you repay that? By turning a blind eye and letting your wife bully my wife and infant son in my own home?

Before departing for overseas, Lucas had specifically and sternly entrusted Thomas with keeping a watchful eye on me. And yet, this was the disastrous result of his careful protection. Speechless and utterly cornered, Thomas stood there with his face flushed the dark, angry red of a bruised beet. Upon catching sight of Lucas, Angel clutched desperately at the straw of salvation, weeping hysterically as she dragged herself across the floor toward him.

Lucas! Lucas, please save me! It was all a terrible misunderstanding! Cynthia framed me! This is her doing!

Lucas did not deign to bestow even a fraction of a glance upon her, merely shifting his stance to block her grasping hands from touching him. His gaze locked onto my face, taking in the prominent dark circles and the stark pallor of my skin, causing his brow to furrow into an even deeper, harsher line. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing against my cheek as his voice softened dramatically.

Did they frighten you?

I gave a silent shake of my head, yet the corners of my eyes burned fiercely, spilling over with uncontrollable tears. All of my carefully constructed strength and iron fortitude collapsed into dust the moment he appeared. Stepping out from behind his protective embrace, I walked slowly over to where Thomas stood. From my pocket, I drew out the crumpled, mangled remains of the divorce agreement—the very document bearing the forged signature of Lucas at the bottom. With a sharp flick of my wrist, I hurled the paper directly into Thomas’s face. The loose sheets scattered like snow through the air, resembling the pathetic final curtain call of a farcical play.

Take this paper and keep it for your own use.

My voice was not loud, yet every single syllable rang out with crystal clarity in the quiet room.

Brother, starting from today, the bond between us is broken. Finished.

Thomas stood frozen like a statue, completely petrified. He stared down at the scattered divorce papers littering the floor, then looked up at my merciless, resolute expression before turning his gaze toward Angel, who was being forcibly dragged out the door by the police. The look in his eyes was a vortex of chaos and bottomless despair. The officers paid no heed to this tragic drama, escorting the wailing, screaming woman out of the estate. Julian followed closely behind them to handle the formal procedures at the precinct. The vast living room suddenly fell quiet, leaving only the three of us behind, accompanied by the soft, fretful whimpers of our son in his crib, who had been startled awake by the earlier commotion. Lucas walked over, lifting the child into his arms with practiced ease, gently rocking him against his chest. He carried the baby over to my side, slipping his heavy overcoat off his shoulders to drape it warmly around mine.

It is all over now.

He murmured softly into the quiet space.

Forgive me for returning so late.

Gazing into his face, which was heavy with genuine remorse, I offered a gentle shake of my head and leaned my weight against his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heart beating alongside our son's. The nerves that had remained wound to a snapping point throughout the entire, grueling day finally dissolved into nothingness. Indeed. Everything was over at last.