REBORN My Second Life I Became The Villianess (Nyxara) novel Chapter 24

The quiet afternoon inside the house was thick with pre-weekend tension. We were all gathered in the living room, each of us pretending to mind our own business while the atmosphere practically hummed with unspoken electricity.

My father was sitting near the tall arched windows, scanning through a thick stack of corporate documents with a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. Across the room, Nysa was slumped on the velvet settee, furiously scrolling on her phone.

Every few seconds, she would snap her head up, throwing casual glances and utterly disgusted looks in my direction, she was probably feeling miserable that she couldn't touch me. Meanwhile, our mother sat near the fireplace, idly flipping through a high-society fashion magazine, though her eyes kept darting nervously toward the clock.

Suddenly, right around noon, the muffled silence of the estate was shattered by a loud, piercing shriek echoing from the front entrance.

My father froze, lowering his documents. He stood up immediately, his brow furrowing in deep confusion as he looked toward the foyer. He turned and asked the head butler, who had just hurried into the room, "What on earth is happening out there?"

"Sir, there is a woman at the front door," the butler reported, looking visibly flustered. "She is demanding entry and causing quite a scene."

My father didn't hesitate. He strode toward the entry hall to check the situation out. Nysa immediately hopped off the settee, rolling her eyes and grumbling under her breath about irrelevant peasants disrupting her day.

Our mother stood up as well, her face tightening with sudden apprehension. The four of us made our way toward the massive double doors as the woman's screaming grew louder and more frantic by the second.

The moment the heavy oak doors swung open, the crisp outdoor air rushed in, carrying the sound of raw, unadulterated fury.

Standing on the front steps was a middle-aged woman with wild hair and an expression of pure, unbridled rage. The second her eyes locked onto our group, zeroing in instantly on my mother she pointed a trembling finger straight at her and started screaming at the top of her lungs.

"You! You old hag!" she shrieked, her voice echoing across the manicured courtyard. "You are old enough to know better, and you still have the nerve to seduce my twenty-eight-year-old son! How can you be so shameless?"

Nysa instantly snapped, her defensive, entitled fury flaring up before she even knew the full story. "How dare you!" Nysa screamed back, stepping forward. "How dare you come to our home and disrespect and accuse my mother…"

"Accuse? Ha!" the woman cut her off with a bitter laugh, reaching into her oversized leather handbag. She pulled out a thick stack of printed photographs and hurled them violently across the stone porch. They scattered everywhere like confetti, sliding across the marble floor.

My father slowly bent down, his hand shaking slightly as he picked up a few of the scattered pictures.

The second he looked at them, the breath seemed to leave his body. The photographs showed Caroline in deeply compromising, intimate positions with Andrew , laughing in private hotel rooms, draped over him on luxury resort balconies, and wrapped in his arms.

Our mother gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as all the color drained completely from her face. She stumbled backward against the doorframe, her eyes wide with sheer panic as she began frantically mumbling,

"Carlton... Carlton, please, it's not what you think..."

The afternoon air froze solid as the reality of the photographs sank to the polished marble floor. Before my mother could even finish her desperate stuttering, the sharp, deafening crack of flesh hitting flesh echoed off the stone walls.

My father’s hand came down across our mother’s face with enough force to send her stumbling sideways against the doorframe.

For three seconds, the estate was entirely dead silent. You could hear the wind rustling through the trees outside.Then, my father moved.

He didn't shout or issue a warning. With a dark, trembling rage that radiated off him in visible waves, he reached out, grabbed my mother roughly by the arm, and hauled her back across the threshold into the house, slamming the heavy double doors shut behind them.

He dragged her across the floor like a ragdoll and shoved her away with such violent force that her knees gave out, sending her crashing hard onto the marble tiles.

She started sobbing, scrambling backward on the floor, looking up at him with terror in her eyes. "Carlton…please, let me explain…"

"Shut your filthy mouth!" my father roared, his voice cracking with a lifetime of betrayal and disgust.

He unleashed a torrent of bitter, vicious curses down upon her, tearing into her decades of deceit, her reckless spending, and the utter humiliation she had brought upon the Vexari name. Every word was a lash, stripping away whatever pathetic dignity she thought she had left.

Off to the side, Nysa stayed glued to the corner of the wall, hugging herself tightly, trembling from head to toe, and not daring to breathe a single word.

The toxic silence in the livingroom only lasted for a heartbeat before my father’s head snapped toward the corner. His dark, bloodshot eyes locked instantly on Nysa, who was still pressed flat against the wall like a trapped animal.

"Did you know about this?" he barked, his voice vibrating with raw fury as he pointed a shaking finger at her. "Tell me the truth right now. Did you know what your mother was doing?"