66

Two weeks later...

The morning sunlight was merciless. It poured through the villa's tall glass windows like a spotlight on a crime scene — and in the middle of it, sitting at the breakfast table with tousled hair and guilt written all over her face, was Ellie.

Across from her stood Lea, arms folded, every inch of her posture radiating fury and heartbreak. The tablet on the table showed the fresh batch of headlines:

"ELLIE DE TORRE AT IT AGAIN — PREGNANT HEIRESS SPOTTED RIDING HARLEY IN MAKATI!" "WHEN WILL SHE LEARN? DE TORRE FAMILY IN TURMOIL OVER RECKLESS BEHAVIOR." "CHAOS QUEEN RETURNS: ELLIE'S LATE-NIGHT RIDE STUNS PUBLIC — AGAIN."

Lea's voice cut through the silence. "Do you even realize what you've done?"

Ellie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Mom, I—"

"Don't 'Mom' me right now, Ramona Joselle," Lea snapped, her tone trembling with restraint. "You promised. After the last time, after all the warnings — you promised me, and your father, that you'd stop doing these things!"

"I wasn't going fast—"

"That's not the point!" Lea's voice cracked. "You are pregnant, Ellie! Do you understand what that means? You're not just putting yourself at risk. You're putting—"

"Lea."

Rafael's quiet voice came from behind her. He had been standing by the counter the whole time, coffee mug forgotten in his hand. His tone was calm, cautious — the way it always was when he sensed the volcano building in his wife. "Maybe let her explain first."

Lea turned sharply, eyes flashing. "Explain? What explanation is there, Rafael? She's pregnant, and she's out at midnight on a motorcycle! That's not rebellious, that's reckless!"

Rafael set his mug down, his expression steady. "You're upset, but shouting won't help—"

Lea's glare cut him off. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down!"

For a moment, Rafael said nothing. Lea's hands were shaking now — not from anger alone, but from something deeper, something raw and old that lived in her chest. Her breathing quickened.

"Lea," Rafael began softly, "you're angry because you're worried—"

"I'm angry," she interrupted, voice breaking, "because we did everything right once, and we still lost Raymond!"

The room fell into stunned silence. Even Ellie froze, her lips parting as if the air had been pulled from her lungs.

Lea's shoulders trembled as the words tumbled out, unfiltered, unstoppable.

"We followed every instruction. Every doctor, every vitamin, every precaution. We were careful with everything. And still—" She choked on the word. "We still lost him. I can't—" Her voice cracked again. "I can't go through that again, Paeng. I can't watch someone I love throw themselves into danger when I know what losing feels like."

Rafael's face softened, the sharpness in his eyes replaced by something gentler. He walked over to her, slow and deliberate, placing a steady hand on her arm.

Lea didn't flinch this time. She just stood there, shaking, tears spilling freely now.

"And you," she turned to Ellie, her tone breaking, "you're carrying life, anak. You're carrying a future — our future. You think it's just about you being strong, but it's not. It's about that baby, about our grandchild—"

She stopped abruptly, her hand flying to her mouth as the words sank in.

Ellie blinked, stunned. "Grandchild?"

Lea froze. Her chest rose and fell as she processed what she'd just said. It wasn't an accident — not really. It had slipped from the heart, unfiltered and instinctive. Her eyes softened, the anger dissolving into something tender and heavy with love.

Rafael smiled faintly, stepping closer to her. "You're not angry," he said softly. "You're worried. That's different."

Lea turned toward him, her voice trembling. "I'm both."

He nodded. "I know. And that's okay."

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, grounding her. "She's not trying to hurt herself, Lea. She's scared. Restless. Trying to feel normal again. It's not Raymond. Ellie's not us. And we're not the same people we were then."

Lea's tears kept falling, silent but steady. She looked at Ellie — really looked at her — and for the first time, saw not the reckless young woman on the Harley, but her daughter. Her child. The girl she had fought for, defended, loved like her own long before the world ever called her one.

Ellie rose slowly from her chair and crossed the room, stopping in front of her mother. Her voice was quiet, breaking. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to scare you. I just needed to breathe for a while. Everything feels so big lately. But I'll stop. I promise."

Lea reached out, cupped Ellie's face, and nodded through her tears. "No more rides," she whispered.

Ellie smiled weakly. "No more rides."

Rafael wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them close. "That's my girls," he murmured, his voice thick.

Lea let out a shaky laugh through her tears. "You're not off the hook, either," she said to Ellie. "Harley privileges revoked — indefinitely."

"Understood," Ellie mumbled into her shoulder.

"And as for you," Lea said, turning to Rafael with a glare softened by exhaustion, "next time your daughter sneaks out, you're explaining to the PR team why our family is trending for motorbike-related incidents again."

Rafael chuckled quietly. "Noted."

Lea sighed, finally letting herself relax into his embrace, her voice softening. "God help me, you two will be the death of me."

Rafael smiled against her hair. "Maybe," he murmured, "but you'll never be bored."

And for the first time in days, Lea laughed — quiet, tearful, and real. The kind of laugh that sounded like forgiveness, and family, and everything that came after the storm.