Say Less I Love You Episode 26

Chapter 295

 JACOB

I stand at the podium, my fingers gripping the smooth wood as I stare out at the sea of black-clad mourners. The weight of grief presses down on my shoulders, but rage burns hotter in my chest as my eyes lock onto Marcus' composed face in the third row.

All of Nyla's carefully crafted words about my parents' legacy evaporate from my mind. The practiced eulogy feels hollow now, inadequate to express the truth of their murder.

"My parents were taken too soon, by those who act from shadows," I begin, my voice carrying clearly through the hushed church. The words emerge with an icy calm that surprises even me. "But even shaded places see light eventually."

Marcus sits utterly still, his face an expressionless mask. But I notice his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on the pew in front of him. Around him, other mourners shift uncomfortably in their seats, the tension palpable.

"They lived lives of service and integrity," I continue, each word precise and weighted with meaning. "Values that some here today might find...foreign. My father built his legacy through honest work, not schemes and secrets."

A few gasps ripple through the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alexander tense, ready to intervene if needed. But I maintain my composure, my gaze never leaving Marcus.

"Those who plot in darkness often forget - the truth has a way of emerging into light. And when it does..." I pause, letting the threat hang in the air. "Justice follows close behind."

Marcus' jaw clenches almost imperceptibly. Beside him, Trixa stares fixedly at her hands. The rest of the congregation seems to barely breathe, caught in the crackling tension between us.

"And when truth emerges, judgment rises with the dawn," I declare, my voice carrying to the farthest corners of the church. "Those who think themselves above consequences will find justice has a long reach and a perfect memory."

My gaze locks onto Marcus, who sits unnaturally still. A muscle twitches in his jaw - the only sign my words have landed.

"My parents believed in dignity, in honor." I grip the podium tighter. "They built their legacy brick by brick, through honest work and dedication. Not through manipulation. Not through violence."

Nyla shifts in her seat, her eyes never leaving my face. Julia dabs her eyes as the tears stream down her face.

"I make this vow - their principles will not die with them." My voice drops lower, each word precise and deadly. "Their legacy of integrity will live on through those who loved them. And those who sought to destroy that legacy?" I pause, letting the silence stretch taut. "They'll learn exactly what justice means."

Trixa doesn't dare look up, but her shoulders hunch forward slightly.

"To my parents - your sacrifice will not be forgotten. Your murder will not go unanswered." The word 'murder' echoes through the sacred space like a gunshot. "Rest now, knowing your son will see this through to the end."

Marcus finally meets my stare, his face an impenetrable mask. But I catch the slight narrowing of his eyes, the barely perceptible tightening of his mouth. He knows. This is no mere eulogy - it's a declaration of war.

I give a final salute to my parents' caskets, my hand trembling slightly before I force it steady. The weight of what I've just declared settles over the church like a heavy shroud. As I step down from the podium, Alexander catches my eye and gives an almost imperceptible nod.

"That was quite the speech," Marcus says under his breath as I pass his pew. "Very... pointed."

I pause, not turning to face him. "Just speaking truth. Something you might try sometime."

"Truth is relative, my boy." His voice carries that same patronizing tone I've grown to hate. "Your parents understood that, in the end."

My fists clench at my sides. "Is that what you told them before you had them killed?"

"Careful, Jacob." His whisper holds a knife's edge. "Accusations without proof can be dangerous."

"So can murdering people's parents." I finally turn to meet his gaze. "Remember that."

Alexander materializes at my elbow, his presence a steadying force. "Jacob, Julia needs you."

I hold Marcus's stare for one more loaded moment before moving away. Behind me, I hear Trixa's stilettos clicking on the  floor as she hurries after her father.

I watch as a stream of mourners approaches me, their faces a blur of sympathy and concern. My eulogy seems to have struck a nerve with many of them.

"Powerful words, Jacob," Derek says as he squeezes my shoulder. "Your father would have been proud."

Julia sidles up next to me, her voice low. "That was... interesting. Not exactly the traditional remembrance I expected."

"Nothing traditional about their deaths either," I mutter, accepting another round of condolences from distant relatives.

Through the crowd, I catch glimpses of Marcus and Trixa making their exit. The sight of them walking away so casually after everything makes my blood boil.

"Easy," Alexander murmurs, appearing at my side. "There's a time and place."

Nyla stands by the church entrance, her eyes following Marcus as he disappears into a waiting town car. The sunlight streaming through the stained glass catches her face, highlighting the mix of hurt and anger in her expression.

"I never thought one man could cause so much pain," she says quietly as I approach. "My own father..."

"He's not your father," I cut in firmly. "Biology doesn't make family."

Mrs. Henderson from the hospital board interrupts us, grasping my hand. "Such a moving tribute, Jacob. Your mother would have appreciated the strength you showed today."

I force a polite smile, but my attention stays fixed on Nyla's distant gaze as she watches the car carrying Marcus fade into Manhattan traffic. The weight of everything he's done to both of us hangs heavy in the air between us.