It's Your Turn To Cry and Beg, Dear Uncle
Chapter 57: A Fallen Pride

Chapter 57: A Fallen Pride

Orlando pressed his lips together. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Still, the man maintained a calm exterior, even though his heart was racing like a galloping horse. At that moment, his mind spun rapidly, searching for a more reasonable explanation.

Avoiding the question wasn’t exactly a solution, as Orlando could see that Kyra wouldn’t let this go until she got an answer. On the other hand, changing the subject would have negative consequences; knowing how persistent Kyra was, it wouldn’t be surprising if she decided to investigate on her own.

Therefore, the best course of action was to control the situation himself. "No, your grandfather doesn’t know. He might be suspicious, but trust me, he hasn’t figured it out yet. That’s why I tried to pull you away earlier, to create some distance between you two."

Kyra furrowed her brows, her lips pursed. Orlando glanced at the young woman beside him but still failed to discern whether she believed him or not. Her expression gave nothing away about her thoughts.

Silence engulfed the space between them for a moment. The only sound was the hum of Orlando’s car engine as it drove down the highway, passing other vehicles.

About ten minutes passed before Kyra finally spoke. "Why would Grandpa be suspicious?" she asked, her tone subdued. Her gaze shifted downward, and for a moment, Orlando thought she seemed a bit dispirited.

Orlando exhaled briefly. "Your grandfather loves you deeply, like his own granddaughter. You know that, right?"

Kyra looked up and turned her gaze toward Orlando, nodding in agreement.

"That’s why he started investigating what happened at the restaurant that day. It doesn’t matter how powerful the Lila family is; Creighton would still fight them and ensure Lila faces consequences for daring to hurt someone in his family," Orlando explained.

After finishing, he glanced at Kyra, noting how she lowered her head again and gripped the fabric of her pants. Without even seeing her face, Orlando could tell she was tense. But he needed to clarify the matter further, so the young woman whom he had already considered his sister wouldn’t hurt herself recklessly again.

"But of course, James, along with Oliver, had already started investigating and blocked his efforts. Even so, in the end, Creighton uncovered the core of the issue between you and Lila. He found out that you two had met and were involved in that plagiarism scandal."

Hearing this, Kyra immediately looked up, her eyes wide with shock. Honestly, the reason she dared to do all this in the first place was because she relied on the fact that Creighton and Jane never used the internet and didn’t easily believe gossip.

They would only trust tangible evidence. Craftily, she had taken advantage of the balcony, which was out of the camera’s view, so the only testimony available was her word. Witnesses at the time only saw Lila seemingly pushing her. Furthermore, Kyra had assumed that even if Creighton and Jane got involved, they would be angry but would leave the issue entirely to James to handle.

Kyra hadn’t been worried at all, even if James eventually discovered the truth. That had been her initial plan, but it turned out she had underestimated the situation. Her grandfather had almost uncovered the truth. No—more accurately, he now knew half the truth.

"Does Grandpa know about my novel?" Kyra asked hesitantly, her eyes unable to meet Orlando’s.

Honestly, when she was writing it, she hadn’t thought about anything except pouring out her feelings that were roaming aimlessly without a final destination. She needed something to keep her steady.

At that time, other concerns hadn’t crossed her mind, least of all the embarrassment that would come if her secret was uncovered. Still, she had believed the chances of anyone discovering the truth were slim because, in the end, it was fiction.

It was just a fictional story.

But it was she who couldn’t hold herself back. She had failed to draw a proper boundary, and as a result, all the characters and settings that should have distracted readers from the truth had instead become metaphors for reality itself.

Not identical, but not far off either. Proof of this was that those who knew her immediately recognized that it was her story.

Ah... Kyra suddenly recalled a small, seemingly insignificant memory. But now it made perfect sense. At that time, she had left her final manuscript on Valeria’s desk. Within five days, her best friend had called her.

"Are you sure you want to publish a story like this?" Valeria had asked, her tone filled with doubt.

And back then, Kyra hadn’t considered anything else but the thought that this was her best work after years of writing. Never before had she crafted words so beautiful—so emotional that they moved even her own heart as the author.

Each Chapter of the story brimmed with feelings that seemed alive. Her love was expressed so deeply, so intensely, as if she feared nothing, not even death.

She only wanted to love and be loved.

She only wanted to be accepted.

She wanted validation that her feelings weren’t wrong.

...that what she felt wasn’t a disgrace.

...that it wasn’t something disgusting.

Hence, she gave away her confirmation, "Yes, I’m sure. Please... publish the story."

And true enough, the result was astonishing. It started with free samples sent to prominent bloggers for review, and Kyra’s book skyrocketed in popularity.

Even a notoriously harsh reviewer was drawn into Kyra’s fanbase, praising the work of Kay Hammond, the pen name behind the novel that made him cry for the first time. This reviewer had never shed a tear before, no matter how heartbreaking a story was. They even went so far as to personally promote Kyra’s work.

As a result, people began reading her book. People began to know who Kay Hammond was.

And for the first time, Kyra felt loved.

She felt accepted, acknowledged, and gradually, her confidence returned.

That’s why she stopped doubting her feelings and ran after James.

But somehow, as more and more people around her started discovering her secret, Kyra’s doubts resurfaced. She became scared—terrified. Instead of feeling accepted, she felt exposed, as if she were laid bare before the public.

So vulnerable and... ashamed.

Noticing Kyra’s sudden melancholy, Orlando pressed his lips together. He couldn’t bring himself to continue the conversation. But Kyra spoke up again.

"Does he know?"

Orlando exhaled. "More or less. Creighton asked because he found it strange that James didn’t defend you back then and allowed Lila to do what she did. So, Creighton questioned the story."

Oh... again, just from reading the story.

Suddenly, Kyra remembered something her mother had once said.

"Remember, Kyra. Never tell the whole truth. The truth should only remain with you, because an author is also a human and we need to guard our hearts."

This was her mistake. She should never have revealed everything.

***

Even though they had arrived in front of the dim sum restaurant, the two remained seated in the car. Orlando, who had initially intended to get out immediately, paused when he noticed Kyra wasn’t moving.

At that moment, he realized his sister was perhaps struggling with how to face her grandfather again and how to act in front of James.

Orlando sighed inwardly. Love is complicated.

He glanced at his watch. It had been more than fifteen minutes since they arrived, and any moment now, messages would start popping up on his phone, asking where they were and whether they’d arrived yet.

And just as he thought that, his phone vibrated the next second.

[Why are you taking so long?] – Anthony

[Where are you?] – Oliver

[The roads aren’t even busy, so why are you late?] – James

And the messages kept coming.

Orlando let out a long sigh, which startled Kyra. Noticing her reaction, he furrowed his brows.

"It’s time for us to go. They’re already asking about us," he said, cutting through Kyra’s train of thought. But Kyra still didn’t move. Orlando leaned slightly toward her, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Finally, he could see Kyra’s confused expression.

Orlando’s face softened, and he reached out to gently pat her head. "What’s wrong? Are you worried about seeing your grandfather right now?"

Kyra glanced at him briefly but remained silent. Orlando chuckled softly, finding it amusing how this brave girl, who had once dared to jump from the second floor, was now afraid of facing an old man. Then again, he understood—this wasn’t just any old man.

"You don’t need to be scared. You’re not alone; we’re here with you. Besides, if anyone’s going to get scolded, it’s James, not you. Are you still doubting that Creighton’s affection for you is greater than for his biological grandson? And don’t forget, Jane is on your side too," Orlando said, trying to reassure her.

But although that was one of the worries on her mind, it wasn’t Kyra’s biggest concern right now. She pressed her lips together before finally voicing her true thoughts.

"What about you, Brother?" Kyra asked suddenly, lifting her head. Her blue eyes locked onto Orlando’s brown ones. "And what about the others? Are you all on my side?"

Orlando was stunned by her question. In that moment, he understood what their beloved little sister was truly worried about. But before he could answer, Kyra turned her gaze away, looking out the windshield instead. She continued, her voice subdued.

"Are you disgusted by me? Do you think I’m strange?"

The reason she avoided looking directly at Orlando was her fear of seeing his reaction. Hearing rejection would hurt, but at least she could avoid the visual memory that would be much harder to forget. She didn’t want this moment to become a nightmare that would haunt her. If his answer was negative, she could simply leave.

"I know this feeling is wrong. James said the same, and I understand but I can’t help it. I tried to ignore it, to deny it, but the pain of pretending nothing was wrong slowly drove me to the edge. In the end, I chased after my own uncle."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "I’m ashamed—not just of the madness I poured into the fantasy world of my book, but of the madness I’ve shown in reality. I was willing to hurt myself for revenge. And instead of guilt, I felt satisfaction watching my enemy fall."

Kyra let out a small laugh, dripping with self-deprecation. "If it were Oliver, I’d understand if he accepted me. But you and the others, you’re much more objective in your judgments."

"Aren’t I utterly disgraceful?"