Chapter 51 Chapter 51 Emmanuella the Fool
Emmanuella POV
I lay on the bed in the bedroom, trying to stay as far away from Gabriel as possible. He had been acting strange ever since I came back home.
No signs of jealousy, no signs of discomfort. He was just so relaxed, as if he couldn’t care less about anything I did.
I mean, I knew this about him before. It wasn’t exactly a surprise. But come on, if a man were to drop me off the porch of our home, I should at least see some kind of reaction—just like I did when he brought home a fake aunt.
I was scrolling through my phone, flicking through every blog that had posted the article from the anonymous blog accusing me of murdering Roy and the others.
Suddenly, I saw another update from the same anonymous blog.
I didn’t know how the handler of the blog was doing it. Even though I wasn’t following them, the blog kept showing up in our faces like it was hunting us.
But this time, instead of a caption that made me feel vindicated and at ease, the headline read:
"The killer of the three gruesome deaths found dead in his own home."
I read the caption, which was paired with a blurred picture of a man who had been murdered in his own home.
Tapping the link, I was directed to the full article, and I quickly began to read.
“Mr. Florish, an immigrant who had been living in Mandena for the past two years, had been pursuing Cassandra relentlessly. She continually rejected him, insisting that she was already with Roy.
Frustrated by her refusals, Mr. Florish decided to take matters into his own hands. One night, after witnessing Roy and Cassandra’s sexual encounter in her apartment, he followed Roy home, killed him mercilessly, and then went back to kill Cassandra.
While he was doing that, Cassandra's neighbor saw him. Realizing there couldn’t be a witness, the neighbor took action and killed Mr. Florish.
After completing his bloody mission, Mr. Florish took his own life in his home, unable to live with the guilt. He left a letter explaining his actions before he ended it all.”
Beneath the article was a blurry image of a handwritten letter in brown ink, though the writing was difficult to read.
Before I could process it all, I heard the news on the TV downstairs—Gabriel was watching.
It wasn’t long before the police arrived at the scene and began investigating the house.
I remembered how Attorney John had promised to vindicate me, to clear me of the accusations against me. I couldn’t understand how this had all happened so quickly. So, I called him immediately.
“Did you do this? Did you have the police investigate the murderer’s house?”
I heard him laugh softly before he responded. “I told you, Emmanuella, if you date me, I’d make sure you’re vindicated. Now the real murderer has been exposed, and the police are doing their job.”
“So, are you getting ready for tonight?”
I didn’t know why, but something felt off. How did the blogger know so much? How did he promise me that he would vindicate me, and then suddenly, the murderer was found—after he’d already taken his own life?
I quickly brushed the thoughts aside. Right now, all that mattered was that I had been vindicated. Now I could live the life I wanted, while Gabriel continued to suffer.
“Yes, I’m getting ready. Will you pick me up when the time comes?” I asked, a soft blush creeping onto my face, as if he could see me.
“Of course, my beautiful angel. I’ll pick you up at 8 p.m. See you soon?” he replied.
“Okay!” I answered, the call ending.
I headed to the bathroom for a cool bath, the first I’d had since yesterday.
After my bath, I took my time nurturing my hair, making sure it looked ravishing. Then I slipped into the perfect gown—a slit at the thigh, just to show Attorney John that I was the right choice for him.
I mean, who wouldn’t want me? A perfect gem, so beautiful to the core.
At exactly 7:50 p.m., I walked downstairs, the sound of my clicking heels echoing on the hard wooden floor.
I purposely walked into the living room where Gabriel was. He’d been sneering silently at me for days, mocking me. It was time for him to know that I had been vindicated.
I moved with confidence, showing him just how bold I was, how beautiful I was—something he’d clearly been missing out on.
I saw the way he tried so hard not to look at me.
Scoff.
I hissed in irritation.
At 8 p.m., Attorney John arrived at the door. He was a fine man, dressed in a crisp tuxedo. He extended his hand to me like a gentleman, and I gladly took it.
We walked to his BMW, and I purposely left the door open so Gabriel could see—he needed to know that I was a beautiful woman, and beautiful women never lose. I would always find a man who would love me.