Chapter 1323:
Then a sharp scream pierced the air from outside the kitchen window.
“Aaah!”
A woman’s voice—high, shrill, flooding with panic.
Deandre’s frown deepened as he turned toward the sound.
Standing outside was an elderly woman in an apron, a grocery bag dangling from her hand. She stared through the window at her son curled on the floor in a pool of blood, and at Deandre standing in the doorway with his cold, overwhelming presence.
She screamed again—louder, more piercing. “He’s killing him! My son—he’s going to die! Help! Someone help!”
Deandre took in the scene without moving.
He stepped outside. The woman stumbled backward, dropping her bag, screaming. “Call the police!”
T𝘩𝘦 𝗺𝘰𝘀𝘵 p𝘰𝘱𝘶𝘭𝗮r ոо𝗏𝖾𝗹s 𝗼𝗻 𝗀𝗮𝘭𝘯𝗈𝘃𝘦𝘭𝗌.𝖼o𝗺
Her cries drew the neighbors out one by one, a small crowd gathering quickly in the corridor outside. Meanwhile, Melany sat in Deandre’s car with Evelina asleep against her chest, the child’s breathing soft and even in the quiet.
About twenty minutes later, the wail of police sirens cut through the neighborhood as two patrol cars rolled up to the building.
Melany’s expression shifted the moment she saw them. She laid Evelina gently on the seat, opened the door, and stepped out of the car—only for an officer to move into her path immediately, blocking her way.
“Ma’am, please remain where you are,” the officer instructed firmly, blocking Melany’s path without hesitation.
“No—you need to listen to me first,” she insisted, trying urgently to get her words out.
At the same time, another officer had already rushed upstairs, leading a team that moved swiftly behind him.
Melany instinctively moved to follow, but the first officer seized her arm and held her in place. Left with no choice, she could only watch helplessly as they charged inside.
A sudden burst of noise erupted from above, echoing sharply through the building.
A few minutes later, Deandre was escorted downstairs between two officers, his hands cuffed behind him, his expression unsettlingly composed. Carlos, by contrast, had to be supported on either side, his body hanging limp. His hands dangled at unnatural angles, and blood mixed with saliva dripped slowly from the corner of his mouth onto the floor.
His mother stumbled after them, crying out, “Carlos! Just look at him—my poor son! How could anyone do this to him?”
Seeing Carlos in that state, Melany felt no surprise. If anything, a faint, quiet sense of relief surfaced within her. She had been deeply afraid that Deandre might lose control entirely and take it too far.
Carlos’s mother noticed the subtle shift in Melany’s expression. She had never liked her—not since learning she was a single mother. Yet somehow her son had become obsessed with this woman, and now everything had led to this disaster.
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