The President Chapter 102

The sun streamed through the windows of the small villa, illuminating the papers Edric had laid out across the dining table. Celestina’s hands trembled as she picked up one of the documents, her eyes scanning the damning words scrawled across the page.

“These are contracts,” she murmured, her voice heavy with disbelief. “He sold national resources to foreign powers… for personal profit?”

Edric nodded grimly, his face weary. “Your father has been embezzling humanitarian aid meant for starving regions. He’s used it to fund private military forces and pad his offshore accounts. The deals with foreign powers? They’re crippling our sovereignty. He’s selling the country piece by piece.”

Celestina felt a knot tighten in her chest as she reached for another file. The next one was worse—photos of starving children, their frail bodies and hollow eyes seared into her mind.

“Stop,” she whispered, setting the file down abruptly. “I can’t look at this anymore.”

Edric’s tone softened. “I’m sorry, but you need to see the truth. The people are suffering, and it’s not just because of Kael or corruption at lower levels. It’s your father. He’s at the center of it all.”

Dimitri, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, pushed off and stepped closer to the table. “Enough,” he said sharply. “You’ve made your point.”

Celestina turned to him, her voice shaking. “Dimitri, this isn’t just political greed. This is evil. How could he let this happen?”

Dimitri sighed, his jaw tight. “Because he doesn’t care, Celestina. He cares about power, not people.”

Edric spoke up, his gaze steady. “That’s why you need to come back. You have the evidence now. With your influence, you can rally the people and expose him for what he really is.”

Dimitri shook his head, his voice firm. “No. She’s not going back.”

Celestina looked at him, startled. “Dimitri—”

He cut her off. “Do you remember what happened the last time we got involved? Your father manipulated you, Celestina. He used you as bait, and we barely escaped with our lives. If we go back, we’re walking straight into his trap.”

Edric stepped forward, his voice rising. “The people don’t have time for fear, Dimitri. They’re starving. They’re dying in the streets while you two sit here on a beach pretending the world doesn’t exist!”

“That’s enough!” Dimitri snapped, his eyes blazing. “You think I don’t care? I care about keeping her alive! If we go back, they’ll kill her.”

Celestina held up a hand, her voice trembling. “Stop it, both of you.”

The two men fell silent, though the tension between them was palpable.

Edric hesitated before pulling out a small photo from his pocket. He placed it gently on the table in front of Celestina.

“This is Mara and her family,” Edric said, his tone softer now. “She had two children—ages six and eight. Her village ran out of food after your father cut off their aid. They tried to survive on scraps, but it wasn’t enough. She buried both of her children last month.”

Celestina stared at the photo, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes. It showed a gaunt woman clutching a small, makeshift grave marker, her face etched with grief.

“I know you don’t want to go back,” Edric said gently. “But these people need hope. They need someone who can stand up to him.”

Celestina’s voice broke as she whispered, “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

Later that evening, Edric approached Celestina again, this time with a sealed envelope.

“This was written by a girl in the capital,” he said, handing it to her. “She slipped it to me before I left. I think you should read it.”

Celestina hesitated before opening the letter. The handwriting was shaky, as though written by someone very young.

Dear Princess Celestina,

I don’t know if this letter will ever reach you, but I hope it does. Everyone says you’re gone, but some of us believe you’ll come back. We whisper your name when we’re scared because you’re the only one who ever cared about us. Please, if you can hear us, come back and save us. My little brother is sick, and we don’t have any medicine left. My mama says we just have to wait, but I don’t want him to die. I don’t want to lose him. Please don’t forget us.

Celestina pressed the letter to her chest, tears streaming down her face.

Dimitri found her sitting by the window later, the letter still clutched in her hand.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice heavy.

She didn’t turn to him. “How can I not? They need me, Dimitri.”

“And what about what you need?” he said, his voice rising slightly. “What about your life, your safety? Don’t you matter in all of this?”

“I can’t just sit here while people suffer!” she snapped, turning to face him.

“And what happens when they kill you?” Dimitri countered, his voice filled with frustration. “Because they will, Celestina. Your father will stop at nothing to keep his power.”

Dimitri’s anger finally boiled over as he turned to Edric. “You don’t understand what you’re asking her to do. You think exposing her father will solve everything? It won’t. She’ll be hunted by him, his allies, and by people from my past. Do you know how many enemies I’ve made? If we go back, she won’t survive.”

The room fell silent, Dimitri’s chest heaving with emotion.

Celestina looked at him, her voice quiet. “What are you afraid of, Dimitri?”

He avoided her gaze, his voice bitter. “I’m afraid of losing you. Again.”