Once, my paranoid love

Paul, standing nearby, responded to his father’s pointed accusation with a simple, perplexed utterance, “Dad.”

Paul’s voice trembled with a mixture of emotions as he challenged his father’s accusation. “How could you say it, Dad?” The words resonated with pain and disbelief, as he grappled with the gravity of his father’s allegations.

“It was you who wanted to abandon my mother. You’d always wanted her to be your mistress, didn’t you? You had a habit of taking money from her. You hate her, Dad,” Paul added.

William, his face contorted with anger and frustration, was on the verge of a violent outburst, but Paul’s swift action prevented an escalation. Paul decisively seized his father’s outstretched arm, restraining the potential physical confrontation.

The officer, whose patience had worn thin, examined William’s neck and chest, noting numerous scratches on his skin. A chilling silence blanketed the room as the officer weighed the evidence before delivering his verdict.

“There are a lot of scratches here,” William said, his voice strained, his desperation evident. The officer’s order was swift, and the consequences of the accusations would be faced. “We’re taking you into custody, Mr. William,” he declared, as law enforcement personnel moved in to restrain and escort him out of the room.

William’s voice reverberated through the tense atmosphere as he vehemently protested his innocence.

“You’re making a mistake, officer. I didn’t kill her. He was the one. He killed his own mother,” William shouted, his pleas falling on deaf ears as he was led away by the authorities.

The room was filled with an eerie silence as the officers prepared to remove Anne’s lifeless body.

Paul took a step forward, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch his mother’s cold, lifeless hand. His voice was filled with regret and despair as he whispered his apology, his words heavy with the weight of remorse.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I was unable to help you. If I knew, I wouldn’t have used sleeping drugs,” Paul confessed, the confession heavy with a sense of guilt and anguish. The room seemed to grow colder as he expressed the isolation that had become his reality.

“I don’t have anyone in my life right now. I lost everyone.”

The officers, their duty clear, implored Paul to let them continue with their somber task, their words a gentle reminder of the necessity to proceed with the formalities that accompany such a tragic loss.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Please, Mr. Paul, let us do our job.”

Paul reluctantly stepped back, but he never once let his gaze waver from his mother’s form as it was prepared for its final journey.

His eyes followed the officers as they took her away, and he managed a smile, tinged with the tears that glistened in his eyes, as he watched her depart.

In that heart-wrenching moment, Paul’s emotions appeared to take a stark turn. His sudden and unexpected smile contorted into something that resembled a mania.

[Flashback of Last night]

“Please forgive me for what I’m about to do,” Paul implored, his voice a tremulous whisper laden with sorrow.

Anne lay on the bed, her eyes wide with confusion and fear as she tried to process the ominous words that had just left her son’s lips. She was about to speak, to demand an explanation, when Paul reached for a pillow and placed it firmly over her face.

Anne’s world plunged into darkness as the pillow pressed against her, cutting off her air supply. Panic welled up within her, and she began to wriggle, her legs and hands flailing in a desperate attempt to break free from her son’s grip.

“Umm,” Anne managed to gasp, her voice muffled and weak as she struggled for breath. Her heart raced, and her body thrashed beneath the weight of the pillow. She couldn’t understand what was happening, why her own son was doing this to her.

“Please, Mom, it won’t take long. Stop struggling,” Paul whispered, his voice choked with tears. He couldn’t bear to look at his mother’s terrified eyes, but he knew he had to do this. The tears welled up in his own eyes as he fought against his own conscience.

Anne’s mind raced, and in her final moments of consciousness, she tried to reach out for help. She reached out towards the sleeping form of William.

Her fingers scraped against his chest, desperately searching for a lifeline. She managed to grab hold of a button on his nightshirt, but her strength was rapidly fading. She was trying to awake William and other side she was kicking Paul.

Anne’s struggles grew weaker, and she eventually stopped moving altogether. The room fell into a chilling silence, broken only by the sound of Paul’s ragged breathing.

In a desperate attempt to reassure himself, Paul shifted his weight on the cushion and carefully checked Anne’s breathing.

“Mom,” he called out in a low, quavering tone, his voice trembling with both fear and guilt. He reached out to touch her face, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her forehead.

“Mom,” he called her again, his voice filled with moist eyes and a heart heavy with remorse.

Paul sat there, his head resting on Anne’s chest, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” Paul whispered, his voice quivering with remorse. The words were barely audible over the soft sobs that wracked his body.

“I didn’t want to put you to death,” Paul continued, his voice filled with sorrow. “But please, tell me what I should do now. Due to you, I’ve lost everything.” He paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“First, my father, who adored me. He made every effort to take me with him. He tried so hard to talk with me, to hear my voice, but you didn’t give him the chance.”

Tears continued to well up in his eyes as he recalled the countless nights he had spent yearning for his father’s presence. “You remember how I cried all night just to talk to him?” Paul’s voice cracked, and he struggled to find the words to convey his anguish.

“Even though I begged you. But you didn’t listen to me.”

Paul’s anger and frustration poured out in his words. He couldn’t contain the years of pent-up resentment any longer.

“Then one day, you appeared and told me that Robert was now my father.” His grip on his mother’s lifeless body tightened, a mix of sorrow and rage coursing through him.

“My relationship with Elena was destroyed because of you. You ruined my dream that I saw with her.”

“You all wrecked it, Mom,” Paul said bitterly. “I told you that I wanted to stay with her, but you sent me to boarding school.”

The room remained in darkness, a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions that filled it. Paul’s words hung heavily in the air, a raw and painful confession of his life’s regrets.

“Why?” he asked, his voice tinged with desperation and anger. He gazed into his mother’s lifeless face, searching for answers that could never be given.

“And now look at what you’ve done. You allowed her to marry Derek. You gave my love to someone else,” he yelled fiercely, his frustration and heartache spilling over.

Paul’s anger and grief were palpable, but a sudden change came over him, and he inexplicably grinned. It was a strange and unsettling shift in his demeanor. “However, everything is fine now. I’ll take care of everything,” he said with an eerie calmness that contrasted with his previous outburst. “You do not need to be concerned about me.”

The room seemed to close in around him as he continued, his words laced with a strange determination. “What will Elena do if she hears that her dad is in the hospital and her childhood lover’s mother has died?” A sinister smile played on his lips. “I know she won’t be able to let me be alone. She’ll come to me in a flash.”

“I’m sure she’ll come to me,” he added, the darkness in his eyes unsettling. It was as if he had set a trap, and he relished the idea of Elena falling into it.

“But, Mom, don’t worry. From now on, you will see from the sky what your son can do.” His words were laced with a disturbing confidence.

“I will take the share you got from Uncle Robert. I will destroy Derek’s company in the blink of an eye.”

His laughter intensified, filling the room with an unsettling ambiance. The darkness of his intentions loomed, casting a shadow over the future he was meticulously planning. “And that time, Elena will have no option left as well,” Paul said with a malevolent grin.

As he locked the door, Paul’s actions and words painted a picture of a meticulously devised scheme.

With calculated precision, Paul began to clean his mother’s right hand, erasing any trace of his earlier actions. He was leaving no room for suspicion or doubt, crafting an elaborate facade to cover the sinister truth. Every move he made was a carefully orchestrated step in a grand plan that was beginning to take shape.