CLEOPATRA: Her Shades Of Vendetta

Chapter 2

It was nightfall when I left the house. The sky looked endless, scattered with stars like someone had tossed glitter over black silk.

I stopped and tilted my head back, staring up at it. Was that them? Were my parents one of those stars, looking down at me? I bit down on my lip to keep from crying, but it didn’t work. Tears still slid down my cheeks.

I sat on the pavement outside the gate. My body felt heavy, like it didn’t belong to me. Cars zoomed past, their headlights flashing in my eyes. Each one seemed like a reminder that the world kept moving, even when mine had stopped. Even when I had no home to walk into anymore.

I don’t even know how long I sat there. Could’ve been twenty minutes, could’ve been hours. It was only when the road went quiet that I realized how late it was. The night felt cold, but not because of the breeze, something about betrayal just chilled my bones.

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone. My fingers swiped through my contacts. I paused at Rose’s name. God, I missed her. But she was in Paris, chasing her dream of fashion design. What could she do from there? Nothing.

My thumb hovered over my lawyer’s number. I thought about calling him, even started to dial, but stopped. Nah, he probably wouldn’t be much help right now.

Then I considered hitting up one of my dad’s close buddies. But ever since Dad passed, the guy barely kept in touch. Not that I’ve called him either since the funeral. Reaching out now, in the middle of this mess, just felt off.

My eyes landed on “Mr. Jackson” next. He’d been my dad’s lawyer, and a friend, too. He was the one who handled all the legal stuff when my parents passed. He was the one who stood by me after the funeral when everyone else disappeared.

I hesitated. Then I hit “Call.”

“Mr. Jackson,” I whispered, my voice cracking like a broken record.

“Cleo?” His voice on the other end sounded alert. “What’s wrong?”

That did it. I broke down. Right there. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t even breathe right.

“Cleo, where are you?” he asked again.

I gave him the address. The same house I had just been kicked out of. The house that used to be mine.

An hour later, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up. It was clean, fancy. Just like Mr. Jackson. He stepped out and looked around before spotting me.

“Cleo?”

I got up and practically threw myself at him. I cried hard into his chest. For a second, I forgot he was my dad’s age. He felt like the only person who was still on my side.

He patted my back. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

When I finally stopped sobbing like a five-year-old, he offered to take me inside.

“No,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “I’m not going back in there.”

His eyebrows creased. “Where’s Franklin?”

I couldn’t answer. Just thinking of that man made bile rise in my throat. I shook my head again, this time more violently. Jackson sighed, then guided me to his car. We didn’t talk much on the drive. He let the silence hold us together.

We checked into a quiet hotel. Something expensive, like always. Once I was settled in the room, I handed him the folder I’d been clutching since I left. My hands were still shaking as he opened it.

As he read, I saw his expression change. His usual calm demeanor disappeared.

“Cleo…” he looked up at me with hard eyes. “Why didn’t you call me before signing these?”

“I didn’t sign them,” I said quickly.

He stared at me. “Your signature’s right here.”

I stood up. “I didn’t sign it. And that seal, I haven’t used that seal since dad died. I kept it in a box. Not even Franklin knew where it was.”

He paused, flipping back and forth between the pages.

“I can’t figure this out,” I sobbed hard. “How did they get me to sign those papers? How the hell did I use my seal? How?” I cried like the world was crashing down on me.

“Think, Cleo,” Mr. Jackson urged. “Try to remember something. This divorce was signed a month ago, same as the property transfer. You must’ve signed them around the same time.”

A month ago? I wiped my face, trying to rewind my brain back. Nothing came to me. Except...

My eyes flew wide as I looked at Mr. Jackson in shock.

“You remember something?” he asked.

I shook my head slowly. “I was supposed to sign a contract with the seal... then I think I put it away. I didn’t sign again. Franklin... he came in, then... I don’t remember after that,” I mumbled, confused.

“I think you were drugged,” he said quietly, almost like it hurt him to say it.

“If I was drugged, shouldn’t I have passed out? Not signed this crap?” I pointed at the files like they were venomous.

“Cleo,” he said gently. “It’s still possible.”

I didn’t want to believe it. I pushed my brain harder, trying to rewind the whole day. “I only drank coffee... no, wait. Franklin took the first one, said it was too sweet for me, then brought me another...” My eyes grew even wider.

“He must’ve slipped something in the second cup,” Mr. Jackson said, voice low and serious. “He timed it, waited till you were using the seal. He had it all planned.”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t give away everything I own unless I was out of it.”

He nodded slowly. “Certain sedatives… yeah, they can cause blackouts. There are drugs that make people act normally but they won’t remember later.”

"I hate you, Franklin!" I screamed, feeling my heart shatter into pieces.

“What now?” I asked, barely able to breathe through the tears.

“We’ll need proof,” he muttered. “Something solid. Something we can show in court. But if they cleaned up after themselves—”

“Then I’m screwed,” I finished for him.

He helped me settle in and told me to rest. But I couldn’t sleep. Not really.

The next morning, I woke up to chaos.

It started with my phone blowing up with texts and calls. I turned on the TV and there it was, my name, my picture, splashed all over the news.

They said I was cheating on Franklin. That I’d left my marriage for an older man. Photos of me clinging to a man outside the hotel flashed across the screen. I knew that angle, they’d taken the picture just when I was falling apart in Mr. Jackson's arms.

They played nice with him, blurred his face and all. But me? They threw me out there, completely exposed. The only thing they didn’t show were my tears. Even with my face twisted in pain, it somehow looked like I was smiling.

One headline read: “HEIRESS CAUGHT WITH SUGAR DADDY AFTER DIVORCE!”

Another one: “DAUGHTER OF TECH TYCOON FINALIZE DIVORCE, HANDS PROPERTY TO HUSBAND AS APOLOGY FOR CHEATING.”

I wanted to puke.

Then my phone rang again. Mr. Jackson.

“They released everything at once,” he growled. “I can’t trace the original blog, it’s like they coordinated it.”

My voice came out barely above a whisper. “They want to destroy me.”

“They will not succeed,” he said, but he didn’t sound too sure.

I asked about Giant Tech. The company I built with my dad before he passed. It was registered in my name.

“Tell me it’s still mine.”

“It is,” Jackson said. “You never told Franklin about it, right?”

“No.”

“Then it’s safe. The documents are locked away. No one can touch it unless you let them.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay.” But my mind was already racing. “And Cosmic?” I asked, my hands trembling.

“Cleo... I don’t know,” he replied, voice shaky. “Your sister’s got shares in it, your husband too. I can’t tell what’s really going on. Everything’s just moving way too fast.” He sounded genuinely scared for me.

They were trying to erase me. And I couldn’t let them.

I dressed quickly and headed for Cosmic Enterprise. My father’s legacy. If they got their hands on that too, then I’d have nothing left.

I walked into the boardroom like I still owned it. That’s when I saw her.

Benita. Sitting in my chair. She smirked like she belonged there. On the table in front of her were documents. Signed and sealed, apparently by me. They said I’d transferred my shares to her.

My throat closed up. No. This wasn’t happening.

“Everything’s legal,” someone said. “Your seal, your signature.”

I stumbled backward. My eyes filled with tears, but I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

Without another word, I ran.

Outside, I flagged a cab. My hand was on the door handle when the world went sideways. Everything blurred. The last thing I saw was the driver jumping out to catch me as I collapsed.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital bed, the sterile smell of disinfectant filling my nose. Confusion clouded my mind as I blinked into the bright light. “Where am I?” I croaked, trying to sit up.

A nurse rushed to my side. “You fainted. Just take it easy, okay?”

“I need to call Mr. Jackson, my lawyer,” I said urgently, with strain. She handed me my phone, and with shaking fingers, I dialed his number.

“Cleo, what the hell is going on?” he snapped as he answered.

“I fainted. It’s all falling apart, and I don’t know how to fix it. They got Cosmic!”

“This is your fault,” he snapped. “You gave those people too much access. You trusted Franklin. You trusted them all!”

“Trusting Franklin was my mistake,” I whispered, pain slicing through me anew. “But I never thought it would come to this.”

“Think about what they’ve done, what they will do if you don’t stop them now,” he warned. “You need to step up, or you’ll lose everything.”

I wanted to fight back. To defend myself. But how do you argue when you’re the one lying in a hospital bed with nothing left?

A few days later, I was finally discharged from the hospital. Everything still felt foggy as I grabbed my things from the hotel and headed to the house my mom had left me. It was a small place, tucked away in the hills, quiet and out of sight. I had always hired cleaners to keep it in shape, but stepping inside still felt like entering a time capsule.

As I pushed the door open, memories came crashing in like a damn wave. The place had this weird vibe, kind of cozy but hell empty. The air felt thick, like it hadn’t been touched in forever. And the silence? It was loud, like it’d been sitting there, just waiting on me to show up.

The last time I’d walked into this house, I was with my dad. We had run here together, trying to get away from the toxic mess Juliana and Benita had turned our home into.

I could still hear his voice as he apologized, saying he regretted marrying Juliana, that it was the biggest mistake of his life. He tried to reassure me, but I saw the fear in his eyes when he talked about Benita and all the doubts he had.

After Mom passed, Juliana showed back up, saying Dad had abandoned her. She claimed Benita was his daughter. He ran a DNA test, actually, a few of them. All said the same thing: she was his.

But even then, he told me he didn’t buy it. Something in his gut just kept telling him Benita wasn’t really his.

Two months later, he was dead. Was it coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

As I walked through the house, it felt like my childhood came rushing back all at once. Everything reminded me of Mom. I could almost hear her laugh in the empty rooms, even though now they were just filled with shadows.

I hugged myself, suddenly feeling cold. Can I really stay here all by myself? I wondered, kinda scared.

Two days later, I couldn’t handle all the questions swirling in my head anymore, so I went back to the hospital to see my fertility doctor. I needed answers, real ones, and I hoped he’d clear things up.

When I sat down in his office, my nerves were all over the place. “Thanks for seeing me,” I said, trying to keep it cool, but he just shook his head like, don’t worry about it.

“Cleo, we need to talk about why you lost the baby,” he said, super serious.

My stomach dropped. The main reason I came.

“You took abortion pills,” he continued. “And I need to know why you’d do that, especially after wanting to be a mom so badly. Was it because of the divorce?”

“What? No!” I said quickly, my voice shaking. “I didn’t take anything like that! The only pills I took were the vitamins you sent through Franklin,” I said fast, trying to make it make sense.

“Franklin?” he cut in, his eyes sharp. “He gave you pills?”

I nodded slowly, the memory flashing back.

“Cleo,” he said, now looking worried, “I never gave your husband any vitamins. I didn’t prescribe him anything. Ever.”

I fainted for a moment, then came back to my senses, blinking at the doctor in total confusion. “Franklin…” I whispered.

I didn’t wait around. I stood up and walked out without saying anything else. He was still talking, but none of it was sinking in. My mind was blank. I walked out of the hospital in a daze, everything around me feeling unreal.

Franklin killed my baby. He drugged me. Faked documents. Ruined my name. He betrayed me in the worst way imaginable.

But I wasn’t going down like this.

Not without a fight.