Chapter 67 Chapter 67

Chapter 67 Chapter 67
\[ SALVATORE’S POV \]

The library was supposed to be my sanctuary, a place where the heavy mahogany shelves and the scent of old paper could drown out the chaos of the Moretti house. But I didn't feel the peace it always brought to me.

I was curled up in a velvet armchair, the tablet Salvatore gave me resting on my lap. By my side was Mira, her eyes fixed on the door. Sandy had been standing over me, screaming every insult she could think of, her voice shrill and annoying. But Mira finally had enough. With one quick, powerful blow, she knocked Sandy out cold. The room went silent, except for the constant ping of my phone.

Notifications were flooding in like a waterfall. Messages from Maggie, Raina, and people I hadn't talked to in years. I stared at the screen, my heart dropping to my stomach. I was being tagged in post after post.

Husband snatcher. Whore. The girl who stole her sister’s happiness.

My Instagram was private, and I had no idea how my photos were leaking, but the internet was already tearing me apart. Then, a live broadcast popped up—a press conference, right in the middle of the Russo sitting room.

I watched, frozen, as Sofia sat there looking small and broken. She was wearing a plain sweater, her face pale and her eyes red from crying. She looked like a saint, and I was being tagged the devil.

"Iris was not kidnapped," her voice came through the speakers, shaking with fake pain.

I gripped the tablet so hard my knuckles turned white. She was telling the whole world that I chose this, that I betrayed my own blood for a man she claimed was hers.

"She's lying," I whispered, my voice barely a breath. "Mira, she's telling everyone I ran away with him on purpose while they were the ones trying to sell me off."

Mira leaned over, her face hardening as she watched the screen. "That little snake," she hissed. "She’s setting you up to be the villain so the Morettis look like monsters and you look like a traitor."

I couldn't breathe. My family hadn't just turned their backs on me, they were trying to bury me alive while the whole nation watched.

Sofia sat on a seat, but she was unrecognizable. Gone was the polished, ivory-clad princess of the gala. She was dressed in sharp, mourning black. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her hair was pulled back so tight it looked painful.

"My sister is not a victim," Sofia’s voice rang out, cold and sharp as a shard of glass. "Iris Rossi didn't disappear. She didn't get kidnapped. She plotted. She seduced my fiancé under our own roof while I was busy with the preparation of the wedding."

I felt the blood drain from my face. The comments on the live feed were scrolling so fast I couldn't read them, thousands of people calling me a traitor, a homewrecker, a thief.

"She is a girl who hides behind books and innocence," Sofia continued, her voice rising in a crescendo of controlled rage. "But she is a Rossi. She knows how to manipulate. And Salvatore Moretti? He…he believed her, he fell for her innocence, he watched and let that little snake deceive him. Fuck..fucking my sister behind my back is a big taboo and an insult to the Russo’s family. To the Moretti family, I say this, You think you’ve won? You’ve only invited a viper into your nest."

Suddenly, the tablet was swiped from my hands.

Salvatore stood over me, his face a mask of cold fury. He didn't look at the screen, he looked at me. "I told you not to watch the world, Iris."

"She’s telling everyone I seduced you!" I cried, standing up. "She’s turning the whole city against me. Salvatore, my reputation…"

"Your reputation in that world is dead," Salvatore said, his voice a low growl. "Let her scream. Let her play the martyr. It changes nothing. You are here. She is there."

"It changes everything!" I pushed past him, pacing the length of the room. "She knows you, Salvatore. She knows how you move. If she’s this angry, she’ll do something desperate."

“You believe she knows me?” Salvatore asks with an amusing glint in his eyes. “Let her try," Salvatore said, his hand catching my arm as I passed, pulling me back into his chest. "I have guards at every entrance. I have eyes on every road, I'm in this country."

"She doesn't need a road," I whispered, looking at the screen one last time before Salvatore turned it off. "She knows the secret codes to our family's old communications. She knows things about you that even I don't know."

Sofia’s move came sooner than I  expected, not in person, but through the Salvatores’ phone, and not just any phone. His private line, the one reserved for the Moretti Boss buzzed.

Salvatore answered, putting it on speaker.

"Salvatore," Sofia’s voice came through, but it wasn't the trembling voice of the press conference. It was the voice of a woman who had just found a weapon. "I hope you're enjoying your little mouse. I hope she’s everything you imagined while you were watching her through your cameras."

Salvatore pulled me deeper into his chest, his knuckles grazing my butts. "What do you want, Sofia? I’ve already authorized the transfer of the Vegas properties to your personal account. Take the money and go away while I’m still being nice, we’re in-laws after all."

“I don't want your money, you bastard," Sofia spat. "I want you to know that I found the file. The one our father kept in the safe behind the wine cellar. The one about the accident five years ago."

I froze. Salvatore’s entire body went rigid. The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out.

"The night the Moretti and Rossi cars collided on the bridge," Sofia continued, her voice dripping with venom. "The night our mother died. Father knew, Salvatore. He knew it wasn't an accident. He knew you were the one who ordered the hit to weaken the Rossi line so you could swoop in and protect the only daughter you actually wanted."

I looked at Salvatore. I wanted him to laugh. I wanted him to tell her she was crazy.

But he didn't say a word. He just stared at the speaker, his obsidian eyes filled with a dark, terrible void.

"Iris?" Sofia’s voice softened, but it was the softness of a blade. "Are you there? Are you listening, little sister? He didn't find you at a bus stop and decided to save you. He cleared the path to you by killing the only person who would have ever protected you from him. He murdered our mother to make you an orphan. He made you lonely so he could be your only friend."

"Salvatore?" I whispered, my heart shattering in my chest. "Salvatore, tell her she’s lying."

Dante slowly lifted his head. He didn't look at the phone. He looked at me. And in that moment, I didn't see the man who had carried me over the threshold. I saw the Architect of Death.

"Sofia," Salvatore said, his voice as cold as the mountain peak. "If you ever speak that name again, I won't just take your properties. I’ll take your tongue."

He slammed his hand down on the red button of the phone, cutting the connection.

The silence that followed was the loudest thing I had ever heard. I backed away from him, my hand flying to the silver orchid at my neck. The necklace felt like it was choking me.

"Is it true?" I asked, my voice a broken sob. "Did you kill her? Tell me you didn’t you bastard say something to me"

Salvatore didn't move. He just stood there, like a king in his fucking  house, surrounded by the empire he had built on secrets and blood.

"I did what was necessary to ensure your future, Iris," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "In our world, mothers are weak. And you were meant to be strong. You were meant to be mine."

I didn't wait for another word. I turned and ran, not toward the garden, but toward the only place I could go, the darkness of the mountain fortress, realization dawning on me that I hadn't been rescued at all. I had been harvested by the man who had planted the seeds of my misery five years ago.