Chapter 90

Chapter 90:

As Fernanda neared him, Brodie felt an overwhelming weight in his chest, as though the air had been sucked from his lungs. He gulped audibly, convinced she embodied a silent harbinger, poised to extinguish his very existence.

“Um, I am sorry. I won’t do it again…” Brodie stammered, his face twisted in raw terror. “Please, I promise! I’ll never try anything like this again! I’ll leave immediately—right now! I swear you’ll never see me here again at Zero Degree!”

Seeing Brodie’s fear, the lackeys standing behind him began to shake, while the young woman among them broke into loud sobs. Earlier, she had feigned tears to manipulate Kevin. Now, those tears poured from a well of genuine dread.

Clinging to one another, they stumbled backward, inching away from the scene. Across from them stood only Fernanda, leaning unyieldingly on her crutch, the contrast almost surreal.

“Fernanda,” Soren said, stepping forward. “Let me deal with this. It’s late—you should head back.”

His concern wasn’t for Fernanda’s actions but for how her handling of the situation might affect her image.

Brodie backed away until his shoulders pressed against the wall. With no path left to retreat, he felt utterly cornered. Despite his repeated apologies and frantic promises, he had no idea what else might appease Fernanda—or save himself.

Fernanda raised her hand abruptly, and Brodie recoiled, shutting his eyes tightly as panic gripped him. But the expected blow never landed.

Cautiously, he peeked through squinted lids to find Fernanda smoothing the creases in his jacket with unnerving calm. Brodie froze, his entire body locking in place. The weight of her hand on his shoulder felt impossibly heavy.

“Has your head injury healed?” Fernanda asked, her tone casual.

“Y-Yes…” Brodie muttered.

He hadn’t forgotten. The last time he’d crossed Fernanda, she’d smashed a bottle over his head. The wound had only just scabbed over. Was history about to repeat itself?

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Fernanda spoke, her words deliberate and icy. “Mistakes can be forgiven. What’s unforgivable is refusing to learn from them and choosing to stay on the wrong path.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Brodie said, nodding so vigorously.

He didn’t fully grasp why she was lecturing him, but he’d take a lecture over another blow.

“Cheating and scamming aren’t paths worth walking,” Fernanda continued, her gaze piercing and unrelenting. “Shouldn’t you live with a shred of dignity?”

Brodie felt her words land, each one striking deeper than the last. He stood motionless, stunned into silence.

“I grew up without parents too,” Fernanda said. “I know what that kind of life feels like. Because we share that pain, I’ll let you go this time.”

Her eyes bore into Brodie’s. “If you have any strength left in you, prove it. Stand tall the next time we meet—as someone worth respecting.”

She turned to Soren. “Tell Leon that if Brodie wants a fresh start, he should arrange honest work for him. Whether Brodie takes it or not is his choice.”

Brodie nodded eagerly. “Thank you, Fernanda. Thank you, Soren.”

“I promise—I’ll take it!”

Fernanda’s eyes turned to the young woman beside Brodie. The woman, though trembling, couldn’t hide her striking features—tall and lithe, with eyes that held a quiet allure.

“It’s beneath you to stoop to conning people,” Fernanda said bluntly. “Your beauty is a gift. Don’t squander it by using it to deceive.”

The young woman’s gaze flickered toward Fernanda, wide and uncertain. She could see that Fernanda’s beauty was striking. Though they were likely the same age, Fernanda’s composed presence silenced chaos and demanded attention.

The woman nodded timidly. “You’re right. I’ll remember.”

Without another word, Fernanda turned and made her way to the exit. She had said what she needed to. Whether they chose to heed her words or not was their burden to bear.

Rather than leaving bruises and bitterness behind, Fernanda preferred to extend an olive branch, offering them a chance to turn their lives around. They were young, standing at the threshold of futures still ripe with potential. She hoped they’d find their way to a better path. Kids from difficult circumstances faced harsher journeys, but Fernanda believed they could traverse those roads with pride and honor, just as she had.

Soren hurried over, his expression taut with worry as he steadied her. “Fernanda, what happened? How come your leg is hurt?”

“It’s nothing serious,” Fernanda replied with a faint smile. “Don’t tell Leon—he’ll only fuss. Once my leg’s better, I’ll meet up with him for a drink.”

Soren nodded immediately. “Understood. Leon will be happy to hear that. He talks about you all the time, always sharing stories from when you were in Zhota.”

When they reached Ector’s car, Soren opened the door and helped Fernanda inside.

Fernanda noticed Kevin sitting in the backseat, his face half-shadowed by the neon lights bleeding through the car’s windows.

Feeling her gaze, Kevin rolled his eyes sharply and snapped, “Don’t think I’m going to thank you for helping me out. I didn’t need your interference. My brother and I could’ve handled it just fine without you.”

Fernanda stared at him, her brow slightly furrowed. Had she even spoken? She certainly hadn’t asked for gratitude or claimed credit. He seemed to be having an argument entirely on his own.

“What are you gawking at?” Kevin barked, his voice rising. “Never seen a good-looking guy before? Keep staring, and I’ll give you a reason to regret it!”

“Kevin!” Ector growled. He fixed Kevin with a glare through the rearview mirror. “Watch your tone.”

Kevin scoffed, turning away. He slumped into his seat with a huff, kicking at the chair in front of him like a sulking child.

“Relax,” Fernanda said evenly, her tone laced with calm indifference. “It’s too dark to make out your face. No need for those harsh words. I’m not interested in looking at anything ugly.”

Kevin’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in disbelief. Did she just call him ugly? No one had ever dared to insult him like that.

“Are you blind?” Kevin shot back, leaning closer. “Ector can drive you straight to an eye clinic. Go ahead, look at me properly. How could I possibly be ugly?”

Fernanda answered without even glancing his way, “Why would I look at you? I’m not in the habit of gawking at things that don’t interest me.”

“You!” Kevin spluttered, his fury robbing him of words.

Who did Fernanda think she was to talk to him like that?

“You’d better—”

Kevin’s hand shot forward, but before it could reach her, Ector caught his wrist mid-air.

“Cut it out, Kevin,” Ector said firmly. “Show some respect when you talk to your sister.”

“She’s not my sister!” Kevin yelled, yanking his arm free.

Fernanda didn’t even flinch. “Remember Brodie from Zero Degree? Last time, I smashed a bottle over his head. And your cousin, Crowell? I snapped his wrist—it’s probably still in a cast.” Her voice was calm but carried an edge sharp enough to cut. “If you think you’re tough, go ahead and try me. Just don’t blame me when you regret it.”

Kevin froze, her words chilling him. Slowly, he let his hand drop, retreating sullenly as Ector released his arm.

“By the way, Kevin, Fernanda plays your favorite game too. Maybe you two could team up sometime,” Ector interjected, trying to ease the tension between Kevin and Fernanda.

Kevin scoffed, rolling his eyes again. “Who’d want to play with her? Female players are all terrible.”

Fernanda’s brow arched at his sweeping insult.

“We’ll see who’s actually terrible,” she said, her voice dry with disdain.

“Fine, let’s make a bet!” Kevin snapped, his frustration boiling over. “If you lose, you’re out of my family! Deal?”

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