The tension in the room was almost palpable, as if the air around them had turned into something dense and suffocating. The silence was broken by Amara, who stood beside Rose. Her voice, previously calm, now carried a hint of irony.
"Your father is right in front of you," she declared, letting out a smile that seemed more of a challenge than a confirmation.
Nayara raised an eyebrow, her posture rigid as she crossed her arms.
"This must be a joke," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The man in the corner, seated almost negligently, finally spoke up. His voice was deep and authoritative, though tinged with irritation.
"Yes, I am your father," he said bluntly, as if it were a simple fact.
Nael, who had been silently observing up to that moment, raised his eyes and focused on the man. His posture shifted, leaning slightly forward, like a predator sizing up its prey.
"So… this is our father?" he asked, his voice calm but cutting.
The reaction was immediate. Everyone in the room became visibly uncomfortable, as if Nael's words had hit a sensitive nerve.
"Of course!" the man shouted, briefly losing control before being interrupted by a deep voice that echoed through the room.
"Be quiet," came the order from the older man, evidently the leader of the group.
The supposed father recoiled, though his expression showed reluctance. He was not used to being silenced, but he obeyed.
Nayara, however, was not willing to let the matter rest. She looked directly at Celestia, her crystalline blue eyes now filled with a quiet fury.
"You still haven't answered," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper, but the weight of her intent was unmistakable.
Celestia sighed, straightening in her chair. Her expression, always so controlled, now showed a faint trace of hesitation.
"Yes, he is your father," she finally admitted, each word carrying a weight that seemed to age her.
The revelation hung in the air like an impending storm. Nayara uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, her expression now a mix of disbelief and anger.
"What did you see in him?" she asked, her voice now laced with irony. "I mean, he's handsome, I'll admit. But beyond that? What's so extraordinary about him? It's impossible to imagine you with someone like that."
Celestia opened her mouth to respond, but Nayara wasn't finished.
"And as far as I know, he's married. He has a 22-year-old son, which means he was already married before I was born. So, tell me, mother…" Her voice rose, almost a shout. "Are you telling me you were a mistress?"
The room fell into a deadly silence. For the first time, Nayara showed true anger. Her murderous intent was almost palpable, an invisible pressure that made even the most experienced individuals in the room shift uncomfortably.
Nael remained silent, watching with an enigmatic gaze. He did not intervene, but his eyes analyzed every reaction in the room. There was something behind his apparent calm—a silent storm brewing.
Celestia maintained her composure, but the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her nervousness. She knew the conversation was far from over, and every word now was like walking a tightrope.
The heavy silence in the room was shattered by a declaration that made everyone's nerves tighten like strings pulled to their limit.
"He raped you," Nael declared with an eerie calm. His voice, low and loaded with conviction, seemed to pierce through everyone in the room like an invisible dagger.
The entire room tensed. Even the most hardened among them felt a chill run down their spines. It was something in his tone, the way he pronounced each word with precision, as if calculating its impact.
"No one is denying it," he repeated, his eyes fixed on the man sitting next to Ethan. This time, the tranquility in his voice carried a subtle venom, a silent promise that this would not end well.
Celestia rose abruptly from her chair, worry etched on her flawless face. She knew her son better than anyone and understood exactly where this conversation could lead.
"Nael, don't do anything!" she shouted, her voice sounding almost desperate as she tried to contain the growing tension.
But he did not look at her. Instead, he stepped forward, the calm from before giving way to a cold, deadly expression. His eyes, which usually shone with the intensity of an aurora, now seemed like ice, rigid and unyielding.
"I will avenge myself," Celestia declared, her voice gaining a deeper, darker tone.
"Choose," Nael continued, leaning slightly forward, enough to make his presence feel even more threatening. "I either blow your brains out, or I rip off your balls. Make a wise choice."
The threat was delivered so directly and crudely that even the older men in the room, accustomed to tense situations, exchanged nervous glances. Ivan, the man at the center of Nael's wrath, tried to maintain his composure, but the slight tremor in his right hand gave him away.
It was John who finally intervened, his deep and authoritative voice cutting through the silence that threatened to consume everyone.
"Everyone, stay calm!" he said, rising slowly, as if the weight of the atmosphere were a physical burden. "We won't resolve this now. Let's leave this conversation for another day."
Celestia, visibly relieved by John's support, tried to reinforce the appeal.
"That's right. You can do whatever you want… but not today," her voice sounded firm, but there was a hint of exhaustion in it.
Nael and Nayara exchanged glances. Both knew this "postponement" was a game to buy time, but neither seemed willing to back down. Nayara was the first to break the silence.
"I promise," she said reluctantly. Her voice was firm, but there was a slight tremor that only someone who knew her well would notice.
All eyes turned to Nael, who remained motionless, like a statue, before turning his face to the side. His voice came out low and cutting:
"Next time we meet, you'll have to make a choice. And trust me, none of them will be pleasant. And I'll enjoy it. That's a promise."
The atmosphere in the room was so heavy it seemed even the air hesitated to circulate. Rose, trying to ease the tension, stepped forward with a nervous smile.
"Well… now that this is resolved," she said, her voice slightly trembling, "I think it's time for some formal introductions."
She gestured toward the man who seemed to carry a very dark history and appeared to be the leader of everyone there. He was cold, spoke little, and everyone seemed to fear and obey him.
"This is Kendrick," she began, trying to maintain a light tone. "You already know Ethan, of course. And this here," she said, pointing to the man next to Ivan, "is Valete, your uncle." She pointed to the man with a vertical scar over his right eye, seated between Ethan and Kendrick.
Finally, her gaze rested on Ivan. She hesitated for a moment but continued.
"And this is Ivan, your father."
Her words hung in the air, but no one responded. Nael remained silent, his eyes fixed on his father, a quiet fire burning within them. Nayara, beside him, crossed her arms, pressing her fingers against her elbows as if trying to anchor herself to reality.
Celestia sighed and ran a hand through her hair, knowing that the battle she had just avoided was only the beginning.
The silence was broken by sharp words, spoken in perfect sync:
"He's pathetic."
Nael and Nayara spoke at the same time, their voices reverberating through the room like hammers striking an already cracked crystal. The statement was so direct that even the most seasoned individuals in the room exchanged uneasy glances.
Rose, visibly shaken by the lack of respect, tried to intervene.
"More respect; we're talking about your father," her voice sounded firm, but there was an undertone of disappointment that couldn't be hidden.
She sighed and looked around, desperately trying to steer the conversation in another direction.
"Well, after this, I think we should introduce your cousins."
But as Rose spoke, one detail went unnoticed by most. Nael and Amara exchanged intense glances, a kind of connection that seemed to carry more history than time should allow. There was something in that exchange that made the air feel heavier, something unsaid but clearly felt. Yet no one seemed to notice.
The introductions continued, and the conversation flowed for about thirty minutes. Still, the room felt charged with restless energy. Kendrick, Valete, and Nael spoke little, their responses limited to monosyllables or short phrases, as if each word were a valuable coin to be hoarded.
Valete maintained a rigid posture, his arms crossed over his chest, as if wanting to create a physical barrier between himself and the rest of the room. Kendrick, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair with studied indifference, his eyes lazily moving from side to side. Meanwhile, Nael remained impassive, but the sharp gleam in his eyes indicated he was absorbing every detail, every gesture, every word spoken—or left unsaid.
Nayara, in contrast, seemed restless. Her eyes, as crystalline as Nael's, scrutinized every face with a mix of curiosity and disdain. There was something about her that exuded confidence, but also a hint of frustration, as if she were holding herself back from exploding again.
Celestia watched everything with an expression that mixed exhaustion and caution. She knew the tension in the room was like a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest misstep.
Rose, on the other hand, did her best to keep the atmosphere light, but her efforts constantly ran up against the wall of silence erected by the men. Amara, though silent, kept her eyes on Nael, as if trying to decipher him without revealing too much of herself.
As the conversation finally began to dwindle, the silence once again dominated the room, leaving everyone with the sense that the unspoken words were far more important than anything that had been said.