The Billionaire Twins Need A New Mommy!

Chapter 818: The Truth

[First Timeline]

"What did you say?" the cardinal—still a young seminarist at the time—turned to Lola, who was seated beside him on the same pew.

She wore a small smile as she looked back at him. "I’m getting married."

"Why?" he asked before he could stop himself. "Didn’t you say you wanted to enter the convent?"

"I did." She nodded, then chuckled softly. "I kept praying and praying after the last time we talked. Entering the convent was something I truly wanted. But I kept delaying it. I don’t want to enter with hesitation in my heart."

She pursed her lips and looked toward the altar. "Not long ago, I imagined myself standing in front of this altar, reciting vows as the wife of someone I love."

"I’m pregnant," she added without warning. Yet the smile on her face was unlike anything he had ever seen. "And he asked me to marry him."

She opened her fist and revealed a small ring. Her eyes softened as she gazed at it, as though it carried countless memories already.

"I know everything feels rushed, but I’ve never been this certain in my life," she whispered. "I can’t even believe it."

She grinned as she looked at him. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

The cardinal fell silent, staring at the brightness of her smile. Of course, he believed in love at first sight.

That was what he had felt the first time he saw her. But he was not allowed to feel such things, or rather to act on them.

He was a seminarist—nearly a priest.

Yet ever since meeting her in the chapel where she volunteered, he had been drawn to her. Her beauty. Her kindness. Her presence. She was a secret he would never confess to anyone. After all, he was meant to become a priest, and she had once wanted to become a nun.

That could never happen.

That was what he kept telling himself.

Above all...

"Lola, do you know what kind of man he is?" he asked quietly.

She blinked, then smiled. "The secret society? I heard you’re aware of it too. I didn’t know the church held such secrets, but it’s alright. I won’t say a word. I’m sure the church has its reasons."

"It’s a dangerous world," he insisted.

But her mind did not change.

She didn’t argue. She simply shifted the topic and avoided it. No matter how much he tried to dissuade her, it didn’t matter. How could it? She was already pregnant.

The last thing he clearly remembered from one of their conversations was her saying;

"You’ll officiate our wedding, right?"

He didn’t even remember how he responded. But later that same day, an unexpected visitor came to the chapel.

Atlas.

He had only a few words to say.

"From what I know, feelings are not a sin. However, acting on them is a violation of your vow of celibacy, which is a grave matter. I’m saying this as a warning. The next time your eyes drift in her direction, and you attempt to sway my fiancée with your poisonous tongue."

It was a warning from a man protecting the woman he loved—from what he deemed the poisonous words of a proclaimed man of God.

But to the seminarist, those words felt like a challenge.

Words he would never forget.

Even being asked to officiate their wedding felt like a mockery. It wasn’t that he forgot Lola’s wish to be married in the chapel where she met her husband, with him presiding over the ceremony.

He simply ignored it.

And he knew Atlas agreed only to rub salt into the wound.

After the wedding, he did not see Lola again.

Not long after, he became a priest. Slowly, he rose through the ranks of the church and eventually joined those handling matters concerning the secret society.

But by then, the poisonous seed planted by Atlas’s words had already taken root. His once faithful heart grew tainted. Anger began to fester.

And thus began the endless cycle of revenge.

Blinded by the belief that Lola needed saving—and by the madness he cultivated in his own heart—the cardinal used what little power he gained to initiate something far greater.

In his mind, if Atlas died, the church would no longer show leniency toward the secret society. The Order would retaliate. Everything Atlas built would crumble.

Lola would return to him... and he would take care of her.

But the men he hired made a mistake.

A grave mistake.

Instead of Atlas, they shot Lola... in the neck.

She died.

And everything spiraled out of control.

The Order retaliated. The founding families who stood in his way were eliminated. And before he knew it, he was being forced to his knees before Lola’s casket because Atlas could not bear to bury her yet.

"Look... at what you’ve done," Atlas muttered. "Take a better look... at what you took from me."

The cardinal could barely hear him. His pupils trembled, his face contorting.

"Lola," he whispered, crawling toward the casket. "Lola, I—I’m sorry."

Atlas’s expression hardened as he watched the priest weep over her, daring even to touch her lifeless hands. His fists clenched. Killing him would not bring her back, but this rage had to go somewhere.

"I’ll keep you alive for as long as I can," Atlas whispered. "And I’ll take my time... and make every breath hell."

The cardinal let out a strained laugh and looked at Atlas.

"It should’ve been you," he murmured.

"This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t dragged her into your dangerous world," he continued, laughing bitterly. "It should’ve been you, Atlas Zorken. It should have been you."

He laughed harder, turning back to Lola and caressing her cold cheek.

"Why... are you doing this to me?"

That question should have been a warning, but Atlas said nothing.

And before Atlas realized it, the cardinal had begun twisting his own reality.

"If you hadn’t taken her into that world, this wouldn’t have happened!" he screamed through tears. "You killed her! You killed her! I should’ve protected her! I should’ve been firmer at how dangerous it is to be with someone like you."

That night, Atlas beat him to death.

He had promised to take his time—but the cardinal’s words, his delusion, his touch upon Lola—were enough to make Atlas see red.

That was how the cardinal’s first life ended, but it was not the end of the story.

Rather, it was the beginning of this twisted narrative.

It was a moment when lines blurred.

The point where the perpetrator began to see himself as the victim... and the true victim lost the upper hand.