{CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX}

                                   ~~~~~~~~

"It's you... you're him."

The whole room was packed with shocked faces, but Hanna's was the most bewildered. She had no idea what was going on with Lisa or what she was rambling about. But Jackson? His face was the most startled of all. Inside his head, a storm of thoughts swirled: What if Lisa saw him hide the nanny? What if everything he'd planned fell apart? He quickly dismissed the idea. There was no way she could know; he had been so careful to hide her without anyone catching on. Plus, everyone was downstairs; the upstairs was empty. So, what could Lisa possibly know? 'But what?' he silently questioned, a knot tightening in his stomach.

"What's going on, Lisa?" Hanna asked, desperate to understand the chaos her friend had stirred up. But Lisa remained silent, standing there as if frozen, reflecting the shock etched on everyone else's faces. Unable to endure the mounting tension any longer, Hanna reached out and shook Lisa gently, trying to pull her back to reality and dispel the heavy atmosphere that had settled around them.

"Hanna, it's him." Thankfully, the shaking worked, and Lisa began to speak, her voice slow and trembling, barely audible. "It's him."

"Who? Him who? Speak up, Lisa! What are you trying to say?" By this point, Hanna felt her cheeks flush with heat, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

With her eyes tightly shut, Lisa shouted, "It's the young boy! The boy who saved you that night of the accident with your dad... it's him, Hanna!"

Everyone stood in stunned silence, mouths agape in disbelief. Hanna's mom, having watched from the sidelines, stepped forward and questioned, "What do you mean, Lisa? How could he be the young boy? The young boy was bald, remember?"

"You're right, Mom, he was bald. I mean, you also said the same thing, Lisa," Hanna said, her confusion evident.

Lisa closed the distance between them, placing her hands firmly on Hanna's arm. "Yes, I did say that, but remember, I also mentioned that I couldn't forget his face and that I would recognize him if we ever met. The birthmark, Hanna! He should have it on his scalp," Lisa mumbled quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush.

"Come on, Lisa! I'm his wife, and we've been living together for a while now. Do you really think I wouldn't have noticed any birthmark since we've been together? Or do you think Jackson would keep a secret from me all this time? What would he gain from doing something like that, Lisa? Stop being delusional!"

"Hanna, you've got to believe me; I'm absolutely certain. Look, I don't know why he's hiding it from you, but I know what I'm saying, Hanna. It's him! You know? Since you're having a hard time believing me, let's just check his scalp for a birthmark. If we find one, then I'm telling the truth, and if we don't, I'll apologize for the commotion I've caused and just walk away."

Hanna didn't know if she should agree to it because if Lisa turned out to be wrong, it could cost them their friendship. But the urge to uncover the truth was strong. Meanwhile, Jackson, who had been watching everything unfold, froze in shock. Today was definitely not his day; first, it was the nanny, and now Lisa. He knew that if they checked his scalp and found the birthmark, there would be no way to convince them he didn't know she was the one he saved that night. They'd probably ask what he was doing there during the accident, and he could already feel Hanna's trust slipping away. Everything he had planned for his happiness with her was now at risk, just when he thought things were finally going smoothly.

This was his downfall. If he was proven to be the young boy, he would have to forsake Hanna. But if he crafted an excuse, he would be betraying his uncle. Yet, this time, the choice was clear; he had long ago resolved to prioritize his uncle over Hanna.

Even if it meant losing her and the profound love they shared, at least he would still have his uncle by his side.

"She's right, Hanna... I am the young boy from that night," he confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation.

The room descended into a dreadful stillness, the air thick with unasked questions that hung in the silence.

.

.

.

.

"Finally, Dad. Finally!"

"Victory is ours at last! You see, son, patience is a virtue. I told you to be patient so that he'd be successful."

"Yes, Dad, you did. I guess I underestimated your brilliant mind. I've got so much to learn from you," Victor said, a sly grin spreading across his face. He continued, still grinning, "Poor Jackson—if only he knew he was being used all along. You know, Dad, it was tough pretending to be friends with him."

"I know, son. It was difficult for me too, treating him like the son I cared for, but look at us now; it all paid off."

With a sip of his champagne, Victor said, "He acts like such a smart pant but couldn't see he was being used all along; what a dummy. Let's make a toast, Dad."

Just as they were about to clink their glasses together for the toast, Jackson, who had been lurking by the door and listening to their conversation, burst in with a furious expression, tears glistening in his eyes and his hands shaking. In a sudden fit of rage, he charged at Victor, landing a powerful blow to his face. The impact sent the champagne glasses flying from Victor's hand, shattering them across the room. A sharp piece of glass sliced Victor's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood that trickled down his face.

His uncle stood frozen in fear, dreading what Jackson might do once he uncovered the truth.

"It was all a LIE?! MY WHOLE LIFE HAS BEEN A LIE ALL THIS TIME?!" Tears streamed down his face as his anger painted it a deep shade of red. "All for what, uncle? This?" He raised the files, his expression unyielding. "For these damn files?! What's so fucking important about them that you cost me my life, cost me my LOVE?!" With a fierce grip, he slammed the files onto the table, the impact resonating through the room and leaving a crack right in the middle.

With all the strength Victor could muster, he pushed himself up from the floor where Jackson had punched him, stretching out his hands like someone desperately pleading for his life. "You need to calm down, Jackson. It's all a misunderstanding; you heard wrong." Victor clearly didn't mean what he was saying; he just wanted to keep Jackson's anger in check to prevent him from doing something reckless with the files.

"I trusted you, Victor. To think I took you as my fucking brother and this? This was all it came down to? To be played all along by you and your DAD?" Jackson said to Victor, disbelief etched across his face.

"It's not what you think, Jackson," Victor said, his voice strained.

"Then what is it? I just lost Hanna all because of these damn files." His head hung low, tears dripping onto the floor. He fell silent for a moment, grappling with his emotions. "To think I lost the only person who truly loved me all because of this." He raised his head, sniffing back his tears. A deep frown was etched on his face. "To think I was thrown out and shut out from not just her house but her heart! All for these damn stupid files! You care about this so much, right?"

With a fierce determination, he thrust the files in front of his uncle's face, a hard glare locking onto him. In one swift motion, he tore the files in two, the sound echoing in the tense silence. The world around them seemed to slow as Victor's anguished scream of "Nooo!" pierced through the air, a desperate plea reverberating in the charged atmosphere.

The ambiance was thick with heavy breathing after the scene, as Jackson flung the torn files in his uncle's face.

"You wanted the files so badly. Now that they're gone, what will you do about it?" His hands pressed against his forehead. A mix of devastation and frustration washed over him. "Uncle, what else are you hiding from me? Were my parents even killed by Hanna's father? Why me? Was it all a lie? What other truths are being kept from me?"

Shockingly, instead of the response Jackson had expected, the room erupted with laughter and claps from his uncle, which felt utterly bizarre in such a tense moment.

"You know, my boy, I never underestimated you. I knew you'd eventually find out, but I never thought it would be this way. You always find a way of surprising me." He picked up a cigarette from his cracked table and lit it with a flick of his lighter. He took a few slow inhales as he regarded Jackson with a calculating gaze. A sly grin crept across his face. "What could be the truth? What other truths was I hiding from you? But you're forgetting something, boy... one great truth—YOU'RE THE ONE WHO KILLED HER FATHER." His uncle's laughter filled the room. It was a dark and twisted sound that hung in the air, amplifying the tension between them.

Jackson was left shattered by those words as he staggered and dropped to the ground on both knees, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't escape the truth—he killed her dad, driven by his own anger and hatred. If only he had ignored every word his uncle said and resisted his manipulations, everything could have been perfect.

"You know, you don't deserve the girl. How could the murderer of her father ever be her husband? Just imagine what would happen if she found out it was you who didn't just hide the truth about saving her but actually caused the accident that led to her father's death. Oh, how devastating that would be. She won't just throw you out; she'll have you arrested and probably KILLED. Ahh, what a pitiful scene it would be to be killed by the one you love."

"What else do you want from me?" Jackson asked, his voice strained. He could sense the threat in his uncle's tone, and he knew he was trapped; his uncle had the upper hand.

"Smart boy! But you really shouldn't have torn those files. No worries, though, because now I need something even better than the files."

"And what could it be?"

"I want the company to myself, and... I want the nanny killed."

"What? Why? I thought what you wanted was the files to the properties. What's the nanny got to do with all your shady plans?"

"It's not for you to know, my boy," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his cigarette. "Get me the company and have the nanny killed, or else Hanna dies." He chuckled darkly, continuing without missing a beat, "I trust you can pull this off. If you managed to kill Hanna's father, then taking care of the nanny should be a piece of cake to save your love for someone who means nothing to you."

Jackson was utterly confused, he just couldn't understand why the nanny of all persons, why her? What is his goal in wanting her dead; he thought? But he knew Hanna was his main priority, though he didn't understand his uncle but he knew his uncle wasn't one to mess with, so he thought. And with the nanny already hidden by him, he knew carrying it out would be easy for him. He had to save Hanna.

As Jackson walked away, his face displaying a mix of loser and pity, his uncle pressed the cigarette into the table, igniting it and causing it to smolder.

Victor, his wounded expression holding back confusion, moved closer to his dad, equally baffled by his uncle's demand for the nanny's death. "Why, Dad? Why the nanny of all people?" he asked, his voice laced with urgency.

"She's someone who should have been dead, not alive." His words weighed heavily on him, and he let out a deep sigh to ease the tension in his pounding heart. "Thanks to Reaper, I discovered that she is JACKSON'S MOM."