REVENGE, DIAPER and SNACKS - Chapter 38: Chapter 38
You are reading REVENGE, DIAPER and SNACKS, Chapter 38: Chapter 38. Read more chapters of REVENGE, DIAPER and SNACKS.
Aliya wandered in with chip crumbs still stuck to her pajamas and a shoe that wasn’t hers. She climbed into Mylene’s lap, looked around, and declared with utmost toddler authority: “This house messy.”
We all burst into laughter. And in the middle of that joy—raw, stupid, pure—I knew something deeper had happened. They weren’t just my co-conspirators anymore. They weren’t just my excuses for returning to the light.
They were my anchors. Mylene, who despite her chaos and twin tornadoes, had the sharpest instincts and deepest empathy I’d ever seen in a woman. My family.
Jhing Jhing, whose mouth could cut a man in half but whose heart was already divided amongst all of us in equal slices.
We had lived lives that most people couldn’t even fathom. They didn’t know about the tears we cried alone in kitchens, or the way we held our babies tighter when the world tried to split us apart. They didn’t know about the nights we went hungry just to save one more bill, or the fear of a knock on the door that wasn’t friendly.
But now? Now we had power.
Real power. Because we weren’t alone anymore.
And even as I plotted my next move against Alec—even as I imagined the way he would fall, how I would carve justice from his bones—I knew the war I was truly fighting was to protect this.
This tiny little sanctuary. This fortress of fierce women and sticky toddlers and air fryer dreams.
Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang. It was the courier with the receipts for the orphanage donation. I didn’t let anyone else see it. I signed for it, tucked it away in the safe beneath the fake floor panel in my bedroom.
And I smiled.
Because yes, I was still a weapon. Still death in lipstick. Still vengeance on heels.
But now?
I was also a provider. A protector. A giver.
A mother.
A friend.
And one day, when Alec was lying broken beneath everything he tried to destroy, he would finally understand what made me powerful wasn’t just the secrets I kept or the systems I rigged.
It was them.
My girls.
My sisters.
My chaos.
My family.
The night was thick with tension. Alec’s office was a fortress of glass and steel, overlooking the neon heartbeat of the city, but inside, the atmosphere was anything but calm. Papers were scattered, digital files flashed across multiple screens, and a few of his closest men poured over every detail they could find about me—about Catherine.
They dug deep.
They found Ray, the husband who was more of a liability than an asset—his half a million-pound loss at the casino practically screaming failure. They found Jhing Jhing and Mylene—nice enough women, but nothing particularly suspicious. No criminal records, no dangerous connections. Just everyday chaos and a few messy lives tangled with mine.
But me? Catherine? She was cleaned. Nothing even remotely suspicious and I am Leon Darrow for a reason. I play pink Peppa Pig poker for breakfast and eat alphabet cereal.
Now…Only a ghost in their system. Just an ant lost in the belly of vipers.
And Alec? He snarled through gritted teeth, frustrated as the trail kept going cold. What he didn’t know was that the woman he thought he could trace was smart enough not to leave a trace that could implicate me. Catherine, the extra large tired mother of three was replaced by me—Leon Darrow, the unstoppable storm beneath the calm.
Across the city, I sat in my high-tech lair beneath the garage. Joe Smith’s voice crackled through the encrypted line.
“Alec’s onto the missing shipment to Dubai. Chinese and Koreans are calling it quits. He’s pissed. Desperate even. Wants blood.”
I smiled, fingers tapping the edge of the sleek, military-grade table.
“Let him come.”
Joe chuckled. “You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”
“I’m not playing. I’m winning.”
Japan had already bowed, their underground factions bending to my will through strategy and silent threats. Alec’s empire was cracking, and his panic was evident—his men turning on each other, whispers of traitors hiding in the shadows.
Meanwhile, Dorothy had slipped away, tired of the chaos, leaving Alec with nothing but his crumbling pride and a half-empty wine bottle.
The city didn’t know it yet, but the kingpin was changing.
And tonight? Alec would bleed in ways he never imagined.
My vengeance wasn’t a spark—it was a wildfire, and it was just getting started.
Few weeks later.
The grocery bags were heavier than they should’ve been, or maybe it was just the fact that my arms were full with more than produce—I had three sugar-loaded girls bouncing around me like untamed circus performers. Maya was jabbering a mile a minute about how the cotton candy “melted like clouds in her mouth,” while Aliya sang loudly (and off-key) the jingle from a cereal box. The baby was strapped to my chest, kicking like a wild pony, her mouth sticky from the pink ice cream I swore I wouldn’t give her—but gave anyway, because motherhood is just saying yes when you’re too tired to say no.
It was chaos. Pure, loud, sparkly chaos.
And then we passed it.
The Tux Shop.
We all burst into laughter. And in the middle of that joy—raw, stupid, pure—I knew something deeper had happened. They weren’t just my co-conspirators anymore. They weren’t just my excuses for returning to the light.
They were my anchors. Mylene, who despite her chaos and twin tornadoes, had the sharpest instincts and deepest empathy I’d ever seen in a woman. My family.
Jhing Jhing, whose mouth could cut a man in half but whose heart was already divided amongst all of us in equal slices.
We had lived lives that most people couldn’t even fathom. They didn’t know about the tears we cried alone in kitchens, or the way we held our babies tighter when the world tried to split us apart. They didn’t know about the nights we went hungry just to save one more bill, or the fear of a knock on the door that wasn’t friendly.
But now? Now we had power.
Real power. Because we weren’t alone anymore.
And even as I plotted my next move against Alec—even as I imagined the way he would fall, how I would carve justice from his bones—I knew the war I was truly fighting was to protect this.
This tiny little sanctuary. This fortress of fierce women and sticky toddlers and air fryer dreams.
Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang. It was the courier with the receipts for the orphanage donation. I didn’t let anyone else see it. I signed for it, tucked it away in the safe beneath the fake floor panel in my bedroom.
And I smiled.
Because yes, I was still a weapon. Still death in lipstick. Still vengeance on heels.
But now?
I was also a provider. A protector. A giver.
A mother.
A friend.
And one day, when Alec was lying broken beneath everything he tried to destroy, he would finally understand what made me powerful wasn’t just the secrets I kept or the systems I rigged.
It was them.
My girls.
My sisters.
My chaos.
My family.
The night was thick with tension. Alec’s office was a fortress of glass and steel, overlooking the neon heartbeat of the city, but inside, the atmosphere was anything but calm. Papers were scattered, digital files flashed across multiple screens, and a few of his closest men poured over every detail they could find about me—about Catherine.
They dug deep.
They found Ray, the husband who was more of a liability than an asset—his half a million-pound loss at the casino practically screaming failure. They found Jhing Jhing and Mylene—nice enough women, but nothing particularly suspicious. No criminal records, no dangerous connections. Just everyday chaos and a few messy lives tangled with mine.
But me? Catherine? She was cleaned. Nothing even remotely suspicious and I am Leon Darrow for a reason. I play pink Peppa Pig poker for breakfast and eat alphabet cereal.
Now…Only a ghost in their system. Just an ant lost in the belly of vipers.
And Alec? He snarled through gritted teeth, frustrated as the trail kept going cold. What he didn’t know was that the woman he thought he could trace was smart enough not to leave a trace that could implicate me. Catherine, the extra large tired mother of three was replaced by me—Leon Darrow, the unstoppable storm beneath the calm.
Across the city, I sat in my high-tech lair beneath the garage. Joe Smith’s voice crackled through the encrypted line.
“Alec’s onto the missing shipment to Dubai. Chinese and Koreans are calling it quits. He’s pissed. Desperate even. Wants blood.”
I smiled, fingers tapping the edge of the sleek, military-grade table.
“Let him come.”
Joe chuckled. “You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”
“I’m not playing. I’m winning.”
Japan had already bowed, their underground factions bending to my will through strategy and silent threats. Alec’s empire was cracking, and his panic was evident—his men turning on each other, whispers of traitors hiding in the shadows.
Meanwhile, Dorothy had slipped away, tired of the chaos, leaving Alec with nothing but his crumbling pride and a half-empty wine bottle.
The city didn’t know it yet, but the kingpin was changing.
And tonight? Alec would bleed in ways he never imagined.
My vengeance wasn’t a spark—it was a wildfire, and it was just getting started.
Few weeks later.
The grocery bags were heavier than they should’ve been, or maybe it was just the fact that my arms were full with more than produce—I had three sugar-loaded girls bouncing around me like untamed circus performers. Maya was jabbering a mile a minute about how the cotton candy “melted like clouds in her mouth,” while Aliya sang loudly (and off-key) the jingle from a cereal box. The baby was strapped to my chest, kicking like a wild pony, her mouth sticky from the pink ice cream I swore I wouldn’t give her—but gave anyway, because motherhood is just saying yes when you’re too tired to say no.
It was chaos. Pure, loud, sparkly chaos.
And then we passed it.
The Tux Shop.
End of REVENGE, DIAPER and SNACKS Chapter 38. Continue reading Chapter 39 or return to REVENGE, DIAPER and SNACKS book page.