Once a Doormat Now Untouchable (Caleb and Sydney) novel Chapter 239

**Chapter 239**

When had Caleb ever truly chosen her? Sydney had grown accustomed to the sting of abandonment, a familiar ache that echoed through her life like a haunting melody.

Caleb’s fists were clenched so tightly that the skin around his knuckles turned a ghostly white. His eyes blazed with a fury that seemed to radiate from deep within him, a storm of emotions ready to erupt.

It was Penelope who first succumbed to panic. She grasped his arm with a desperate grip, her sobs trembling in the air like fragile glass. “Cal, you have to save Timmy! He’s your nephew! Your brother’s only son!” Her voice was a mixture of urgency and fear, a plea that clawed at Caleb’s heart.

Caleb’s expression darkened, shadowed by the weight of his conflicting loyalties. “And Sydney is my wife,” he replied, his voice low and heavy, as if each word was a stone dragging him deeper into turmoil.

Penelope’s laughter was bitter, a sharp contrast to the desperation in her eyes. She stared at him, disappointment etched across her features like a scar. “Then let your elder brother find no peace in the afterlife. Let Timmy perish alongside him. Let him know that his uncle never cared for his only bloodline.” Her voice rose, shrill and accusatory, piercing through the tension that hung in the air. “Caleb, can you face Lucas in the grave with that on your conscience?”

Each of her words felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into Caleb’s resolve. He squeezed his eyes shut, the agony of his memories carving lines of torment across his face. He had sworn at his brother’s grave to protect the child left behind, a vow that now felt like a heavy chain around his neck.

‘But Sydney…’ The thought slithered through his mind, a painful reminder of the choice he faced.

Scott, clearly losing patience, rapped the gun barrel against Sydney’s temple, his smile cold and devoid of empathy. “Time’s up, Mr. Hampton. I’ll count to ten. Keep hesitating, and both of them die.” His voice was laced with malice, each word a countdown to disaster.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five…”

Caleb’s fists trembled with fury, veins bulging at his temples like angry rivers. In a moment of desperation, he spat out, “I choose the child!”

‘The child. He chose the child.’ Sydney felt a strange sense of resignation wash over her. She had expected nothing less.

Scott chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. “Figures. You must be one hell of an uncle,” he sneered.

With a flick of his wrist, Scott signaled to his men, who quickly loosened the ropes binding Timmy.

The boy, overwhelmed with fear, hurled himself into Penelope’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “M-Mom! I was so scared…” His words broke like waves crashing against a rocky shore, a testament to the terror he had just endured.

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