Love or Vengeance

Chapter 7: His Daughter, Her Secret

Louise's POV

I woke up in an unfamiliar room, the scent of antiseptic and faint lavender filling the air. The sheets were soft, the light dim. My head throbbed slightly.

And then I saw her.

Kiera.

She was sitting by the edge of the bed, eyes wide, lips trembling. The moment our eyes met, she exhaled shakily and leaned forward.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice groggy.

Kiera let out a breath that sounded more like a sob. "Oh my goodness, Louise... I was so scared."

I blinked slowly. "Why?"

She hesitated, then looked away, biting her lower lip.

A familiar cold settled in my chest.

I sighed. "She came out again, didn't she?"

Kiera nodded slowly, pain in her eyes. "Yes. She killed them—the ones Judas sent. All of them. Except one... barely breathing. She let him go to send a message."

I swallowed hard, glancing down at my wrist. The small bump beneath the skin reminded me of what I was—what I was fighting against.

The GPS chip. The only way to track where she went when I wasn't in control.

"I just... missed my medicine," I whispered. "I felt dizzy, lightheaded. Then everything went black."

"You know I want revenge, Kiera. I want to make Judas pay for what he did to our families, to my mother." I paused, tightening my jaw. "But him. Just him. I don't want to be the kind of person who hurts everyone just to get to him."

Tears welled in Kiera's eyes, but she stayed quiet.

"That's not who I am," I whispered. "That's who she is. And every time she comes out... I lose a part of myself."

I closed my eyes.

And in the silence, I could feel her... still there, lurking in the depths.

Waiting.

It happened more than two years ago, the first time she came out.

The alley was cold, damp, and suffocating. The kind of place where screams got swallowed by concrete and shadows stretched too long.

I was just trying to take a shortcut home.

I didn't see his face at first—only heard the shuffling footsteps, the heavy breathing, and then a hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back. I struggled, screamed, but no one came. His voice was slurred, drunk. His grip was rough, full of vile intent.

My heart pounded.

I froze.

And then...

Everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, he was already dead—his throat slit, body twisted unnaturally on the alley floor. Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the cracks of the pavement like the earth itself was drinking it in.

I was standing above him, shaking. My clothes were torn, but untouched. My hands—steady. Too steady.

That was the first time I heard her.

A whisper. Cold. Sharp.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'm here now."

That night, Kiera found me.

She was a stranger then—just a passerby who came running after hearing the screams. But when she saw me, standing there, silent in a storm of red... she didn't run. She didn't scream. She approached carefully, gently.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

I didn't answer.

I was still trying to understand what had happened.

I didn't remember the attack. I didn't remember killing him. But somehow... I knew it wasn't me who did it.

It was her.

And when I told Kiera—when I explained the blackouts, the voice, the rage—I expected her to leave, to look at me like I was insane. But she didn't.

She stayed.

She believed me.

Over time, with her help, I started to understand. To manage the triggers. The medicine, the meditation, the GPS—tools to keep Allejah locked away.

I never told my family. I couldn't. After everything Judas did to us... they'd break if they knew this monster lived inside me. I couldn't be another burden. Another wound.

So I buried it.

Buried her.

But sometimes... the river turns red again. And no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I fight...

She always finds a way back.

I've always believed that once this mission ends... she will too.

Allejah.

That part of me born in blood and rage. The side that kills without mercy. The side that doesn't cry over corpses, that sees pain as currency, and revenge as salvation.

She only came out because of Judas.

To avenge our mother. My mother.

It was her death that split me in half.

That day, I didn't just lose the woman who gave me life. I lost the version of myself that believed in goodness. In mercy. In justice by the law.

That was the day I began lying to my family—hiding the darkness growing inside me, telling myself it was temporary. That once I killed the man responsible... it would all go away.

Allejah would go away.

And somehow... fate brought Kiera into my path.

A stranger who should've walked away when she saw the blood. But she didn't. She stayed. She listened. She understood—because she had her own demons. Her own wounds.

Her sister.

Judas took her too.

We were both survivors wearing different kinds of scars. And together, we realized this wasn't just about my pain. It was bigger. Deeper. More monstrous.

Christian came later, during our first lead. He was looking for answers too, for justice. His father—another victim in Judas's long trail of destruction.

And suddenly, we weren't just broken people anymore.

We were a cause. A movement. A quiet storm gathering strength.

Kiera, Christian, and the others—we found each other in our pain. And in our mission. Together, we started investigating the real identity of Judas—the man hiding behind a polished name, masked by power and influence.

The deeper we dug, the more we uncovered—and the more Allejah stirred.

Every step closer to the truth is a step closer to her waking up again.

But I still believe... when Judas falls, she will fall with him.

Because I never asked to be this way. I never wanted her.

I just wanted justice.

Not blood.

"Can you please bring me back to Emilie?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Kiera gave me a small nod. "Of course."

A few moments later, Christian arrived—quiet but steady, as always. He handed me a small white bottle, freshly sealed.

I took it carefully, fingers brushing the label. "Thanks," I murmured.

He gave a short nod. "The doctor said you'll need to take this for now. He's working on finalizing his study of your condition. He's doing everything he can to understand... her."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded back.

Sometimes, that's all I could offer—just a nod. A silent thank you for staying, for helping, for not looking at me like I was broken beyond repair.

Kiera gently placed her hand on my shoulder

As we stepped outside, the sky was already softening into dusk. The wind brushed my skin like a whisper.

And for a moment, I let myself breathe.

Just Louise.

Just me.

When we arrived at Emilie's house, the scent of garlic and herbs greeted us at the door—warm, comforting, like a hug wrapped in steam. The soft clatter of pots and the bubbling of a stew welcomed us in.

Kiera, ever quick on her feet, offered a sheepish grin. "We had a little night out without you."

Emilie raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Oh? And here I was thinking I'd been abandoned."

She turned back to her cooking, chuckling lightly.

Emilie stirred the pot and said over her shoulder, "Dinner will be ready in ten. You both look like you could use something warm."

And she was right.

Kiera said her goodbye to us because she needs to go somewhere.

"Food—food—food," I keep repeating as Emilie serves lunch. She's one hell of a good cook. She's already a third-year college student, taking up Culinary Arts. Her dream is to become an "Extraordinary Chef," but all I know is to eat.

"This is a thank-you gift for you," she says with a smile, placing her dishes on the table.

"Did I do something good?" I ask. "Tell me what it is, and I'll do it again and again so I can have a feast every day in front of me," I joke, laughing.

"Hahaha... it's really great, actually it's priceless."

"Really? How?"

"I showed it to Tita Athena, the mom of my boyfriend's best friend," she begins, but I'm already digging in, so I don't answer and just let her talk. "That wall painting you made—she loved it so much." Her words make me happy. "So, thank you so much for doing me that favor. My boyfriend treats them like a second family, so they're important to me too."

"You're always welcome... by the way, does Rim have a family?"

"No more," she answers sadly. "His mom died when he was born, and his dad passed away last year in a car accident."

That's so heartbreaking, I think, feeling pity for Rim. I only met him once in Manila when Emilie introduced him to me. She never told me much about her boyfriend's family background, so I didn't know about this.

"Is that why you decided to stay here in the Philippines?" I ask. She nods.

She eats too, but I definitely eat more—haha. When we finish, I wash the dishes. Later, I find her in the living room, reading something with a worried frown.

"What's that?" I ask, pointing at the paper she's holding.

"There's going to be a grand opening for the W and B Cafe next night."

"Why do you look worried?"

"I want to have a mini concert for the guests."

"That's a good idea. It'll make the whole opening night less boring," I agree.

"But we haven't found anyone to perform yet," she says, rubbing her temples. "I've been looking and found some, but none are willing. First, because our cafe is still new and not well known. Second, the popular singers and bands have pretty expensive fees, which the cafe can't afford right now since it's just opening."

That's definitely a problem. Hm... me? I want to help, but I have something else planned that day...

"Let me see," I said, reaching for the paper she was holding. "Are the guests really that important that you need a 'blast performance'?" I scanned the list of invitees. I didn't recognize any of the names, wait! I flipped back to the previous page and scanned the names again. What a coincidence. Change of plans.

"If you want, I can give a 'blast performance,'" I offered her, handing the paper back.

"Is that a joke??? Don't joke around, besty. You're too beautiful—I might not cook for you for a whole week if you tease me like that."

"Who said it was a joke?" I asked. "Come on, I'm just trying to help you so you don't lose your looks from stressing over this big dilemma of yours." Half true—because I really do want to help her, but my main reason is that I want to see him and his family.

"Yieee!" I covered my ears.

"Oops!" I stopped her from jumping too much. "I'll make your mini concert a blast—but on one condition."

"Anything, besty... anything," she smirked. "Okay, food?"

"No," I said, watching her face go. "Well, I mean yes—it's one of them," I admitted shyly. Me, not choosing food? Never ever.

"You said one condition, besty?"

"Don't put my name as a performer on the invitation." I said.

"Why?"

"Pretty please, besty?" I gave her my best puppy eyes. "Don't you want it to be a huge surprise?" I was trying to convince her. Sorry, I have to lie this time.

"Okay, fine! Deal! I love you, best friend!"

"Love you too, besty!"

"But how about practice? You're only available tomorrow. Don't get me wrong. I know you can perform well without practicing, but what about the band or backup dancers?"

"No problem. I'll pull some strings for last-minute pros. So just chill and relax—because you're starting to look stressed," I teased her as I left her in the living room and went up to my room.

"Hello, Louise," said the voice on the other line.

"Change of plans."

"What's the new plan then?" —Kiera

"Find me some amazing backup dancers—both girls and a boy band. They have to be professionals."

"Wow... Louise, you really are something."

"Hahaha, just putting on a little show for him."

"Okay, I'll start looking now and just text you where you can meet them."

"No," I interrupted. "Gather them in one big studio."

"Okay, got it."

"Bye." I ended the call.

I'm going to give my best friend a blast of a performance—and give Judas a blast of nerves, to the point where he's sweating sticky with anxiety.

The Next Morning

It was 6:00 AM when I hurriedly got dressed and fixed myself up. I wore a comfortable outfit—I missed doing this. I was determined to give my best today because this might be my last performance.

"Besty!" Emilie called out when she saw me about to step out the door. She looked freshly showered and dressed nicely.

"Sorry, besty, I'm in a hurry."

"Take me with you," she pleaded, knowing I'd be practicing all day.

"Okay, come on," I said. I was planning to take my motorcycle, but since Emilie was coming, we took her car instead.

"Hello, everyone!" I greeted the eight of them cheerfully. "My name is Allejah, and we only have one day to practice—but I know we can do it because Kiera told me you guys are really good." I looked at them one by one. "I want a blast of a performance for my best friend," I pointed to Emilie, who was sitting beside Kiera off to the side. "Can I count on you?"

"Yes!" they answered enthusiastically.

"I'd like to know your names," I said, and they all introduced themselves one by one, even sharing their ages. I realized I was the youngest by several months or even a year or two.

We practiced happily and repeatedly with no issues because they were all very professional. Kiera and I agreed she'd pick them all up and bring them to W & B for the event, so there'd be no hassle that day.

Exhausted and sleepy, I got into the car. Thankfully Emilie was driving so I didn't have to.

As we entered the village, Emilie suddenly braked hard, almost causing me to hit the dashboard.

"Oh my gosh!" Emilie shouted and quickly got out of the car. I followed, rushing to see why she stopped so abruptly.

"Baby, where's your mom letting you be here alone?" she said gently to a little girl sitting on the pavement, head bowed. The girl looked so familiar.

"Good thing I saw you sitting there," Emilie added. We sat down beside the girl to be at her level.

"Why are you sitting here?" Emilie asked. The girl didn't answer but tightly hugged her Tweety bag.

"Hello," I greeted softly. "Why are you sitting here in the middle of the street?" The area was well lit, but because the girl was small and sitting low, she was hard to spot.

"I ran away from home because mom wouldn't let me see dad," she answered without looking up. Not stuttering, just calmly speaking—it was impressive for a girl who looked about three years old. I felt a strange lightness, as if I'd known her before.

"Can I look at you?" I asked, feeling even more certain of her familiarity.

"You might be scared of me," she replied.

"Of course not," I said immediately.

Emilie and I froze.

"Oh my God, besty, is this your daughter?" Emilie blurted out, and I couldn't answer.

I couldn't believe it. She looked exactly like my brother—like a photocopy of his childhood photo, but the female version. You could say she was my daughter too because she also looked like me and kuya. And her eyes—dark blue—just like mine. Could it be...? I stood up, overwhelmed by my thoughts.

"Besty, what are we going to do?" Emilie asked me, but I still couldn't answer.

"Kylie!!!" We both turned toward the voice. Miley was approaching, tightly hugging the little girl. Her face was tear-streaked, obviously just having stopped crying.

The girl continued to sob while still held tightly. The light from our car shone on Miley's face, making her even more radiant, unchanged.

"Ate Miley," I whispered, staring at her. She looked up at me, eyes wide with shock that soon turned to worry.

"Lo—Louise," she stammered, her eyes locking with mine as she slowly stood up.

"May I hug you?" I asked softly. She nodded, and I wrapped my arms around her.

"I missed you," I whispered. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Why did you leave us?" I asked gently, but instead of answering, she looked down at her daughter as if she was speaking to someone beyond me.

She wiped away her tears and forced a small smile.

"Where do you live? We'll take you and your daughter home," I offered, glancing at the little girl—so much like my brother's child, my niece. She gave me their address, which wasn't far from Emilie's house.

When we arrived, her parents were there, looking tired but relieved—no doubt they had been searching for their granddaughter.

"Can I talk to you alone, Louise?" I asked Emilie, who stood and went to play with Kylie nearby.

We stepped out into the garden and sat facing each other. She was quiet, nervous.

"Ate Miley, I won't beat around the bush," I started, steadying myself. "Is Kylie really Kyle's daughter?"

She nodded quietly. "Yes. Before I broke up with Kyle, I found out I was pregnant."

"Then why did you leave him?" My voice softened as tears welled in her eyes.

"My dad had a heart attack when he found out I was pregnant. His condition got worse," she said, managing a bitter smile. "I had nowhere to turn, and the medical bills were so high that I was forced to accept your father's offer."

"What offer?" I asked, confused.

"He promised to pay for my father's treatment, but only if I stayed away from Kyle for good. You might not understand, but that was all I could do to keep my father alive. Thanks to your father, he's still here, and I can still be with him."

"Thank you?" I scoffed gently. "You could've asked for help without offering anything in return."

Deep sigh.

"Let me be the one to apologize on behalf of my dad," I said sincerely. "I know it's bold of me to even ask for your forgiveness."

She let out a soft laugh.

"Your dad isn't to blame," she replied quietly. "He was just easily swayed by Danica's lies about me."

That's one thing I've always admired about Ate Miley—she doesn't hold grudges or bitterness.

"Speaking of Danica..." I hesitated, unsure how to break the news. "She and my brother... they're getting married next year."

She fell silent. Her smile faded, and I saw the hurt in her eyes. She still loves him.

"I won't tell you when you should reveal the truth to Kyle about Kylie," I added gently. "But I hope you don't wait too long."

"I know," she nodded. "And... thank you."

"Oh, and before I forget," I said with a playful grin, "I didn't come here to look for you, so don't even think about packing up and disappearing again."

We both laughed.

"Don't worry," she smiled. "I'm not going anywhere. And you're welcome to visit your niece anytime you like."

"Really?" I said, surprised. She nodded.

"You know," I added, looking around, "my brother tried so many times to find you... but you were nowhere to be found. And here I am, not even looking—and suddenly, I find you. Lucky me."

I shook my head with a half-smile. "Tsk... Looks like Dad sabotaged my brother again."

Ate Miley was now a preschool teacher, just like she always dreamed. She lived here with her mom, dad, and younger brother.

"Kylie," she called to her daughter, who had been playing nearby. The little girl came running.

"Say hi to Tita Louise."

"Hi, Tita Louise!" she greeted with a bright, toothy smile. Then she tilted her head, curiously studying my face.

"You look just like me... Is Daddy your brother?"

Did she just figure that out at her age?

"She's turning three next month," Miley said proudly. "She's smart—just like your brother. So don't be too shocked."

I knelt down in front of Kylie.

"Promise me you won't run away from home again, okay?" I said gently. "Instead, try to convince your mom to introduce you to your dad. But no more running away, alright?"

She nodded with a big grin.

"Okay, I promise!" she chirped happily.

A few moments later, we said our goodbyes and left.

Kuya Kyle... I've finally found a reason to stop you from marrying a woman you don't love.

The thought made me smile.

"Besty, that was such a huge revelation," Emilie said on the way home.

"I know, right? Kuya might actually cry from happiness."

"It really feels like fate led you to this place—to find them," she added.

She was right. I was meant to come here.

The Next Day

Emilie was busy prepping everything for the opening mini-concert at the W&B Café. I, on the other hand, spent the day resting—I needed all the energy I could get for tonight. I was going to see Judas again.

It was already four PM. Just a few more hours until the moment I'd been waiting for at seven PM.

I opened the door.

"Christian? What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised. I hadn't expected him today.

"Kiera asked me to drop these off," he explained, stepping inside with shopping bags in hand. "And she figured I might as well be the one to take you to the event later."

I let him in and took the bags—inside were the clothes I had asked Kiera to buy for tonight.

"Do you think Kiera's pretty? Definitely yes! Hahaha!" I teased him.

"Tch!" was all he grunted in response.

"Come on, just admit it already," I pressed.

"Admit what exactly?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"How you look at her," I said, watching him closely. He had no comeback.

"Tsk... And to think the drummer, Mike, is already making a move on her," I added.

His eyes widened, and he suddenly grabbed both of my shoulders.

"Easy," I said, brushing off his hands and plopping down onto the sofa.

"Here's a little friendly—or should I say as a cupid—advice, Christian: if you don't want to lose her or have someone else steal her away, you'd better act fast."

I picked up the clothes he brought.

"You both obviously have feelings for each other. But you keep hiding yours behind that grumpy attitude. I wouldn't be surprised if, by tonight, she and Mike are already a thing," I said, grinning wickedly as I turned my back to him.

Before I could say anything else, he bolted out of the house. A few seconds later, I heard his car screeching away down the street.

I immediately pulled out my phone and texted him:

"Christian! You left me?! Who's going to take me there now!?" I wrote, pretending to be annoyed. Smirk.

"You're on your own for now, Louise. Kiera's more important."

His message made me smile. "Thanks for what you said." He added.

And Miss Cupid WINS!!!

Next, I called Emilie to ask if I could borrow her car. Rim had picked her up earlier, but I didn't get to see her since I was still asleep.

I began getting ready for my first performance of the night.

I had thought about inviting Ate Miley and Kylie, but it was too risky. Judas might recognize them—especially since Kylie's eyes looked just like mine.

I smiled at my reflection in the mirror once I was all dressed up.

I was wearing a dark blue, below-the-knee dress layered with a black coat and matched with 3-inch black wedges.

My dark blue eyes—left as they were, unchanged—stood out vividly. I had curled the lower part of my hair, leaving it down, cascading just to my high waist.

..............................................

Hi-Yu