REVENGE, DIAPER and SNACKS - Chapter 68: Chapter 68

My fingers tightened around the grip of my pistol, but I didn’t raise it. Not yet.
“You were always better at being early,” he continued. “Planning. Manipulating. Watching. But showing up? No, Catherine. That was never your strong suit.”
He turned slowly.
He looked older now. Gaunt. Paranoid. A man torn apart by years of losing. His left eye was bruised, a long scar now marred the corner of his lip. But his smile remained. Twisted. Feral.
And familiar.
“Or should I say… Leon?” He chuckled at his own joke, tilting his head like a dog mocking its master.
“You really are him, aren’t you?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “The way you scream. The way you fight. You think I didn’t notice? The eyes.. The temper. The perfume.”
“You talk too much,” I said.
“Ah, there he is.” He leaned forward. “The killer king himself. But you’re not fooling anyone, brother. You’re still Catherine underneath. Still the mama who had heart failure. Scared of her husband.”
I moved closer, slow, silent. Letting the fury settle deep in my bones. Letting his words slice into the places I kept hidden.
“You don’t get to say her name,” I whispered.
He laughed.
“Oh, come on. I should thank you. You gave me everything. Your empire. Your women. Your secrets. And now… your daughters? Huh! Catherine’s legacy. Tell me—”
He leaned back, swirling his drink.
“Did you really think you could keep something pure? Something untouched? After all we did? After all you did? You made me this way brother.”
My hand twitched on the trigger.
“I swear to God,” I said, voice low, “if you hurt them—”
“Oh, they’re fine,” Alec said with a shrug. “A little cold. A little scared. But alive. For now.”
His gaze sharpened.
“But here’s the thing, Catherine… Leon… whatever the hell you are now—what’s it like? Living in her skin? Feeling her thoughts? Did it break you? Or did it set you free?”
I stepped closer until I was only a few feet away. Close enough to smell the sweat on his shirt. The cheap scotch on his breath.
“You want to know what it’s like?” I said quietly.
He leaned forward.
I leaned closer.
“It’s like fire,” I said. “It’s like every scream she held back burns in my blood now. Every bruise she endured. Every lie you fed her. I carry it all.”
I pulled out the small blade and pressed it to the table.
“But most of all… I carry her promise.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“What promise?”
“That I would end you.”
His hand moved toward his belt.
Too slow.
I kicked the table hard—it smashed into his knees. He howled, fell back, and I was on him before he could recover. We tumbled to the floor, fists flying. The scotch bottle shattered beside us.
He grabbed a shard and slashed at my arm—pain tore through the sleeve, but I didn’t stop.
This wasn’t just a fight.
It was a reckoning.
For Maya.
For Aliya.
For Catherine.
For me.
He scrambled back toward the stairs, blood on his lip.
“You won’t make it out alive!” he screamed, breath ragged. “You think this ends with me? There are more! I made deals—!”
I drew my pistol and fired once—just above his head.
The bullet slammed into the wood behind him. He froze.
“I don’t care who you made deals with.”
I advanced, pistol raised.
“I came here for my daughters. I came here for Ivy and MJ. I came here to finish your madness.”
He laughed again—bloody, bitter.
Even if you kill me, you’ll never escape this life. It owns you now.”
“I own it now,” I said.
Then I shot him.
Not in the head.
Not yet.
In the legs. Both legs. Just to be sure, after all I am a mom. I am Leon.
He dropped like a sack of bones, screaming.
I walked past him, up the stairs. The girls were in the bedroom. Cold. Scared. But alive.
Maya ran into my arms, crying. “Mommy!”
Aliya punched me in the chest, then hugged me. “Mommy…did you kill that bery bad man?”
Ivy and MJ sobbed behind them.
I held them all. “No. Of course not. Killing is bad.”
“But he slapped Maya?”
“I’ve got you, he won't hurt you anymore,” I whispered. “You’re safe. Mommy’s got you.”
Outside, the wind howled louder.
And below, Alec screamed into the floorboards.
But no one answered.
What happened next was blurry.
The storm came down like judgment. Thick, blinding sheets of snow slammed against the cabin windows, turning the world outside into a churning white void. Wind screamed through the trees like a chorus of ghosts, and the temperature dropped so fast my breath iced the glass. I knew at that moment—no helicopter was coming tonight. No snowcat. No convoy. Not unless they wanted to die trying.
We were stuck here. In my cabin.
In Alec’s failed trap.
But this place, this mountain—it belonged to me long before he ever stepped foot on it. And so did everything hidden beneath the floorboards and false walls.