Taming the Ruthless

Cattleya and Ezekiel

Chapter 4: Cattleya and Ezekiel

A few days passed and my foot wound healed. My days went by smoothly, and I finally went down to Gus’ mansion. I’m still a bit unfamiliar calling him “Gus.” Kierra seemed surprised by that, but she chose to ignore it, pretending not to care. Still, her sharp and evil looks at me didn’t escape my sight. I know why she’s angry—it’s because I didn’t follow her advice.

“Mommy, do you think Daddy will like my drawing? Is it good, Mommy? Can you tell me if the colors I used are too ugly? I want to hear your insights on my artwork, Mommy.”

I smiled and looked at her painting. Her work… it was very beautiful. But the theme of her drawing shocked me. It was sad, dark, and frightening—not peaceful at all. Too horrible for a child to imagine. At her age, she should be drawing fun things—bright skies, lively colors, joyful scenes. And yet, she chose such deep and heavy imagery. Children’s minds are usually full of wonder and play, but Cattleya’s imagination… it was far from that.

“Cattleya… your work is very beautiful and impressive. At your young age, your imagination is so wide. But… why did you paint like this? Painting is a way of expressing what’s inside you—your feelings, your thoughts, sometimes even your personality. Did something happen, baby? You can tell me. Don’t think that I don’t like your work, because it’s truly beautiful, full of emotion. I’m just wondering why this is what you imagine, instead of happy memories.”

I explained tenderly, not wanting her to feel I disliked her art. Her work was stunning—but the message behind it worried me.

I looked into her eyes—and what I saw was fear. My heart dropped when she revealed her trembling hands, then closed her eyes as if waiting for me to do something terrible. I held her soft little hands and kissed them gently. She opened her eyes slowly, stunned, her tears on the verge of falling.

“You… you won’t hit my hand with a stick or ruler, Mommy? B-because of my drawing? Aren’t you angry? Mommy, next time I won’t draw something like this. You won’t scold me? Did I disappoint you, Mommy? Please don’t tell Daddy about this…”

I hugged her tightly. My heart shattered. What was she saying? Hit with a stick? Scolded? Threatened? Why was she trembling in fear of me?

“I won’t hurt you, baby. If that’s what you’re worried about, erase it from your heart. I’m not disappointed at all. Why… why are you saying these things, Cattleya?” I asked, my voice full of confusion.

She sobbed as if breaking.

“Every time you don’t like the things I do, you hit me, Mommy. You told me never to tell Dad about it. You even threatened our maids when they saw you hurting me. Even though you were mean and hard on me… I still loved you, Mommy. I still wanted your love. The time you were gone, I was so lonely and sad. I prayed to Papa God that if He brought you back, I would be a good daughter. I would accept my mistakes. I just want you to love me.”

Her words cut through me like a knife. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Her own mother had hurt her—threatened her. What had this innocent child ever done to deserve such cruelty? My poor Cattleya… as fragile as glass, as sweet as candy.

“I’m so sorry, baby…” The only words I could utter, though I knew they weren’t enough. I couldn’t erase her scars—but I could create new memories, ones strong enough to heal her brokenness. I may not be her mother by blood and flesh, but I will give her more love than her real mother ever did. That woman’s tyranny left scars, but I will cover them with love.

“I promise… I’m not perfect. But I’ll do my best to make you and Ezekiel feel that I am enough—and that my love for you is more than enough.”

Her lips trembled as she asked, “D-do you love me, Mommy?”

Her uneasiness pierced me—it was as if this question had been buried deep inside her, waiting for the courage to escape.

“I love you more than anything in this world, Cattleya. And I am so proud of you.”

I hugged her tightly, smiling through the ache in my chest as she clung to me in return.

“Do you want to play basketball with me and Ezekiel?” I asked excitedly, hoping to change the mood. Her eyes widened in amazement, but then she nodded happily.

I carried her to the backyard where the large court stood. Ezekiel was already playing with his coach, running with energy. But my smile faded instantly when I saw the coach order Ezekiel to kneel for missing a three-point shot. He raised a stick—about to strike my son’s hands.

I rushed forward and grabbed his arm before it landed.

“What are you doing?!” My anger burst out uncontrollably. I pulled Ezekiel up gently, hiding him behind me, shielding him with my body. Over my dead body will anyone lay a hand on my son.

“What are you doing to my son?!” I repeated, my voice shaking with fury—but I chose my words carefully. I didn’t want my children to hear poison from my lips. I refused to be a bad example.

The guy seemed confused and then suddenly burst into laughter. What was his problem? Was he suffering from some kind of mental illness? Tss. I carefully chose the words I threw at him, because what else could I say that children might overhear and repeat? I didn’t want to be a bad example to them.

“Don’t pretend to be an ideal mother, Mrs. Dalton. I’m horrified by what you say.” He laughed out loud.

My brows furrowed. Drop the act? What was he even talking about?

“What are you saying? Please don’t divert the conversation. Why would you hurt my son? Why would you treat him so unfairly?”

He was shocked by my words, as if disgusted, but then smiled—wide and unsettling. I was convinced now. This man was crazy, his sanity long gone. And that smile… it only made my fists itch with the urge to wipe it off his face.

“Nice seeing you again, Mrs. Dalton. It’s been… eight months, I guess? Nah. I’m just trying to make your son into the perfect basketball player you’ve always wanted.” He grinned.

“Then why did you have to hit him? If you want him to be an outstanding player, there’s no need to hurt him. Besides, you have no right.” My voice was firm, almost breaking, but I forced it steady.

He laughed again, as though I had just told a joke that tickled him. My gut screamed at me—I was right. This man wasn’t only abusive, he was unstable.

“You told me, didn’t you? That if the boy missed a shot, I should hit him so he’d learn? You *commanded* me, Mrs. Dalton. Are you trying to play the sainted mother now, washing your hands of your evil deeds? Did you hit your head and forget? Their cries were music to your ears, weren’t they? You wanted your son perfect so Mr. Dalton would finally be proud of you for being a *good mother.* Did you forget all of that?” His words slashed like knives. “So if you don’t mind, Ezekiel and I have work to do. You can just sit there, eat some popcorn, and watch. Oh—hello, Cattleya.”

I felt Cattleya and Ezekiel clutch my hands tighter. They were trembling.

When he reached out to Ezekiel, I slapped his hand away so hard the sound cracked in the air. My eyes narrowed sharply on his.

“Don’t you *dare* lay your hands on Ezekiel—or any of my children. Leave. Don’t ever come back. My son doesn’t need you, not with your abusive methods and your twisted way of teaching.” My voice cut like steel.

His teeth ground together, his eyes blazing with fire. Then, suddenly, he grabbed my arm aggressively. His grip tightened, painful, burning my skin. I struggled, but my worry wasn’t for me—it was for the children.

“Don’t you f*cking push the blame on me! If I fall, I’ll make sure I drag you down with me! I hate it when women mess with my patience—insult me!” he bellowed, his spit striking my face. Disgust rippled through me.

I pushed against him, but he was too strong. His hand lifted, ready to strike me, when—

A deafening gunshot split the air.

My eyes widened. The man’s body stiffened, his eyes frozen open, before he collapsed lifelessly to the ground, blood blooming from the center of his forehead.

I didn’t even need to look. I already knew.

It was Augustus. My Augustus.

I turned my gaze away, refusing to let the sight of blood stain my thoughts. I wanted to protect my mind, to shield myself from the nightmare. And then—his left arm wrapped around my waist. Secure. Steady. Instantly, the fear that had gripped me melted away, his presence soothing me like a medicine working its cure.

“Did he try to hurt you and my children?” His voice was deep, calm, deadly. “I don’t have the patience to toy with men like him. I don’t care to punish. My temper rises, and all I want is him dead. Kierra, bring my children upstairs. Make sure they see and hear none of this cruelty. None of the evil I’ve done.”

“Yes, Boss,” Kierra answered, her tone respectful, absolute. She quickly led the children away.

Augustus guided me toward the cliffs, his hand still firm around my waist. Together, we stood, watching the waves crash, feeling the wind kiss our skin. For the first time since the chaos, I could breathe.

“You were amazing back there,” Augustus murmured. His voice, low and raw, pierced straight into me. “Your words… the way you protected my children—it makes me flutter, Aisha. Your bravery. Your strength. It frightens me, you know. Because the stronger you get, the more I fear one day… you won’t need me anymore. That you’ll stand on your own, and then you’ll turn your back on me.”

I smiled faintly, shaking my head. Even in his strength, even in his brutality, he was so vulnerable with me. “I will not. I’ll never turn my back on you, Augustus. You don’t have to be afraid. If you’re the one who gave me hope, then I’ll never let go.”

He walked to a large stone and sat, his broad back framed by the horizon. Masculine, powerful, untouchable. And yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Even from behind, he mesmerized me.

“Sit beside me, baby,” he said tenderly. His words replayed in my mind like a sweet, broken record.

I obeyed. As soon as I sat, he took my hand, holding it firmly, then sighed deeply. Something weighed on him, I could feel it.

“I can’t understand myself, Aisha. I can’t understand why I’m doing this. I’m a cold-hearted man. And yet… you melted me so easily. I’ve spent my life holding guns, but now I can’t believe I’m holding your hand. I believed the sun and the moon should never meet—but since you’re my moon, why do I crave an eclipse?” His voice trembled, raw and unguarded. “I’m a beast, but why do I need a beauty like you? You ruined my principles, my beliefs. Why were you so beautiful the first day we met? Why did your eyes corrupt me? They imprisoned me. And now… I don’t even want to escape.” seems crazy he says.

Like a beautiful music with a soft tone that can really weaken and speed up the heartbeat of whoever hears. I was out of words. This man… this man knew how to melt a woman's heart. It's so rare to see or even meet a man like him. A man like my Augustus. Believe it or not, accept it or not—he is just one and only, and I'm so happy and grateful that I fell into his arms.

He tilted his head, eyes searching me like a hunter circling prey. His voice came low, husky, dangerous.

"I would like to ask you… Would you choose me even if I killed thousands of people? Would you still be with me if my hands were coated with blood? Would you still love me if guns were my world? Would you love a man who threatened you and scared you many times? Would you love a Mafia Boss named Augustus Dalton? Would you love a man like me?"

My lips parted but no words came. I placed my head on his chest, listening to the thundering beat beneath his ribs. You were not lying. Your heart states the same words you've told me. Because the human heart never lies. No matter how demonic, cold, kind, or ruthless—if it loves, it betrays itself. His heartbeat was telling me the truth even louder than his voice.

I inhaled, tightened my arms around him, and let my vow spill out.

"Even if you are the most evil, ruthless, scariest, greedy… even if you kill people, even if your hands are coated with blood. Even if you were surrounded by guns. I assure you—when the world becomes your enemy, when they hunt you, I’ll still be here, holding your hand so tight. I promise. May the wind, may the waves, may the sun be the witness of my undying promise to you. I don’t mind your past or your flaws, Gus. They make you even more beautiful and perfect in my eyes. And if time resets everything? I would still choose this. I won’t regret being owned by a Mafia Boss. I won’t regret being threatened by you. Instead, I’ll lead everything right back to this very moment."

The waves crashed against the cliff as if sealing my words. I felt his breath hitch, his grip on my waist tightening.

"Fck, Baby…" His voice cracked between a growl and a plea. "I want to pull you to the altar right now and let God know you’re mine. You drown me, Aisha. Every time I try to swim up, you drag me deeper. That’s how strong your words, your eyes, your soul are on me. Damn it!" His forehead pressed against mine, hot and trembling. "I want you mine. Only mine. No one will touch you, no one will even look at you. I’ll kill them without hesitation. You’re the only one who tames a demon like me. Love me now and don’t get tired—because as long as I live, I will never fcking get tired of loving you. I love you… to the depths of hell itself, Baby."