Chapter 26
1223 Words
The Confrontation
The nighttime air at Harvard was frigid, clinging to one's breath and making footfall reverberate louder than they should. The lampposts flashed softly as students rushed past, ignorant of the storm developing just outside the Law Faculty.
Bruno Sanchez strode down the corridor, his thoughts still jumbled by Catherina's words. Her support warmed him, even if her voice quiver with unspoken grief. She had smiled through pain, telling him to accept the sale, salvage the company, and make his late father proud, and he had seen in her eyes a strength that both crushed and encouraged him.
He was deep in meditation when the sound of rapid footsteps interrupted him.
"Bruno Sanchez."
The voice was low, crisp, and recognizable.
He turned, and there he was. Jr. Cortez.
Dressed in a half-buttoned shirt with sleeves rolled up, his countenance alternated between wrath and hurt. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he had not slept since that night. The space between them buzzed with tension— two men bound by one woman, one truth, and a rising hatred.
Junior arrived as if he was about to finish what he had begun yesterday;
"I came home from my family's business," Junior said calmly, "and my apartment was empty."
Bruno said nothing.
Junior made a slow move forward. "My neighbors reported they saw Catherina leave with you. And you kissed her."
Bruno breathed softly. "Then you already know."
Junior's jaw stiffened as he spoke.
"Do you think this is funny?, You think you can just walk into my life, take my woman, and act like nothing happened?"
"She's not your woman, Junior," Bruno stated evenly. "And if she were truly yours, you wouldn't have to remind anyone."
Junior's nostrils flared. "Sanchez, don't act like you're the saint in this story. You think I don't know about you, the new CEO, the golden boy, the ideal son? You walk around like you have everything figured out."
"I don't," Bruno replied gently. "But I know the difference between love and control."
That word landed like a smack.
Junior's voice raised. "Control? You're not sure of what you're talking about. She needed instruction and stability. She was lost, and I offered her everything.
"You gave her bruises."
The hush that followed was severe enough to cut air.
Junior froze, his face losing color. "What did you say?"
"I saw the marks," Bruno said , his voice calm but cold. "She attempted to hide them. You did that to her."
Junior's mask shattered. "You think you can accuse me of that and walk away?"
"I'm not accusing," Bruno murmured, moving closer. "I'm stating what I know."
Junior tightened his fist as he spoke. "You don't deserve her Bruno"
"And you don't understand her." Bruno said response.
Their words were suddenly bullets, truths and wounds flying in all directions.
"She was with me before you ever showed up to her life again" screamed Junior. She would cry in my arms, Bruno. You can't take that away from me."
Bruno's eyes tightened. "Then maybe you should've spent less time holding her tears and more time making sure she didn't ever have to cry." He replied.
Junior lunged.
The blow came quickly, but Bruno caught it. The force pushed both of them staggering backward, colliding with a locker.
Junior swung again, this time landing with a sharp blow to Bruno's jaw. Bruno tripped, blood on his lip, but did not fight back.
"You don't get to touch her again!" Junior shouted, his voice booming down the corridor.
Bruno finally raised his head, breathing hard and his eyes ablaze. "You don't get to hurt her again!" He swung once, solidly and cleanly, and Junior crashed into the wall.
The sound of shattering glass echoed down the passageway. For a time, they simply stared at each other, panting, furious, and broken.
"You think you're better than me," Junior exclaimed, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You think your music, your little money and, your perfect manners make you worthy?"
"No," Bruno replied gently. "But I think she deserves peace — and you're the reason she hasn't had any."
Junior laughed angrily. "She'll come running back to me I promise you that. They always do."
"Not this time," Bruno replied. And Junior could see it in his eyes: the peaceful assurance that true love had already picked its side.
He attempted to swing again, but a voice broke through the hallway.
"Stop!"
Catherina shouted.
She raced toward them, her eyes wide with terror as she took in the scene: the blood, the smashed glass, and the wrath emanating from both men.
"Junior, enough!" She cried and stepped between them.
"What are you doing?" She questioned.
He gazed at her, his breath heavy.
"You told him, right? You told him about us." Junior inquired.
She stood her ground. "You don't own me, Junior."
"You kissed him," he retorted.
"Yes," she responded, audacious and unapologetic. "And I don't regret it."
The words landed harder than any punch.
Junior's breath caught, his rage emptying into something hollow. "You'll regret this," he said softly, his voice shaking. "Both of you will."
Then he walked away, slow and deliberate, each step ringing as a warning.
Catherina turned to face Bruno. His face was damaged and his lip was bleeding, yet his look was peaceful—almost too calm.
"I'm so sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean for this—"
He gently stopped her.
"Don't apologize for him, Cat." Bruno said.
Tears filled her eyes. "You should not have engaged with him in a fight. He is dangerous. His family…"
"I don't care," Bruno replied gently. "No one is meant to hurt you. Not him, not anyone."
She gazed up at him, moved by the honesty in his voice and the quiet conviction that pierced her anxiety.
For the first time in years, she felt secure. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear.
"You're stronger than you think," he said. "And one day, he'll realize he never broke you — he just taught you what kind of love not to accept."
Her lips twitched.
"And you?"
Bruno grinned weakly. "I'll always choose you, even when the world is against it. "
Outside, the darkness had become heavy. Rain rained down on the campus, washing away the blood from Bruno's knuckles and the dust from their fight.
He led her back to her hostel silently. Every few steps, she gazed up at him, hoping for the right words, but none came.
When they got to her door, she hesitated. "He won't stop, Bruno."
"Then I'll be ready," he replied simply.
And for the first time, she trusted him.
She stepped closer, her speech barely audible. "Take care. They don't fight fairly."
He grinned softly.
"Neither will I."
Cat looked at him and said.
“That not who you are Bruno.”
As she smiled and slipped behind the door.
Bruno waited in the rain for sometime, his mind racing with what would happen next.
He knew the Cortez family was more than just affluent; they were powerful, dangerous, and involved in the society his father had previously tried to avoid.
But now their lives were entwined. Junior had bitten more than he could chew and Bruno Sanchez isn’t ready to back down yet. Not now not ever.
- Writer
