CHAPTER 106:The Last Confession

CHAPTER 111:The Last Bullet
VINCENT

The night pressed down heavy and silent as I pulled up outside the old Greco hideout. The air reeked of rust and gasoline. A few cars were parked outside strange ones. My gut twisted, but I didn’t have time to care who they belonged to.

My mind was on one thing Isabella and her daughter. Nothing else mattered.

“Move in,” I ordered, pushing the door open. My men fanned out behind me, boots crunching on gravel. Inside, darkness swallowed everything. The place smelled of mold and old secrets.

And then I froze.

Standing in the middle of the room, calm as ever, was the one man I never thought I’d see again.

Damian.

My chest tightened, rage burning through my veins. Four years. Four damn years, and he was still breathing.

He turned, his lips curling in a cold smirk. “Didn’t expect to see me, Vincent?”

Before I could answer, a woman’s voice sliced through the tension. “Ooh, how touching,” Valentina said, stepping out of the shadows in her black dress, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I’ve been expecting you.”

The sight of her disgusted me. My finger brushed against the trigger. One bullet, and this nightmare could end.

“You should be dead,” I said flatly.

She laughed, low and sharp. “Maybe you’ll send me there but it’s too late. Because this time, I’ll be the one sending you to your death.”

“What the hell do you mean?” I demanded.

Valentina stepped closer, the faint click of her heels echoing in the empty hall. “This room,” she said, tapping a small remote in her hand, “is wired with explosives. One flick of my finger, and you both die… along with that little bastard who should’ve never been born.”

Damian’s voice thundered, deep and furious. “You won’t dare call my daughter a bastard!”

I turned to him, fury clawing up my throat. “Who gave you the right to call her your daughter?”

“She is my daughter!” he snapped back. “You took that from me four years ago the day you shot me!”

“You started this, Damian!” I shouted, stepping closer. “We were supposed to be brothers, and you shot me because you couldn’t face the truth about your father’s death!”

His voice broke. “I believed what I saw. I should’ve known better. I should’ve known you’d never betray me, Vincent. I’m sorry.”

For a second, the world seemed to still. I saw it in his eyes the regret, the pain, the truth. And despite everything, I almost saw the friend I’d lost. Almost.

But then I remembered what he did to Isabella.

“Why did you turn my sister into your pet?” I growled, my voice trembling with anger.

He exhaled sharply. “Because I loved her,” he said, his voice cracking. “I loved her so much it terrified me. I didn’t know how to show it. I just didn’t want her to leave me… ever.”

The confession hung between us, heavy and raw. I’d known about his feelings long ago, but hearing it now… there was no stopping what was already done. Isabella loved him too.

“Come here,” I said quietly.

He looked at me uncertainly, then stepped forward. When our arms wrapped briefly in a rough, wordless hug, I felt something shift a memory of who we were before everything shattered.

“Do you know where Isabella is?” I asked.

“She’s safe,” he said. “At my house. It’s only our daughter Valentina’s holding. Do you have a plan?”

“Yes,” I said, eyes locked on Valentina. “You’ll distract her. We’ll make it look like we’re fighting. I’ll fire toward you, but I’ll switch my aim at the last second and end this.”

“That’s insane,” he said. “My daughter is with her.”

“Trust me.”

He swallowed hard. “Are we… friends again? Do you think Isabella will forgive me?”

“That depends,” I said, stepping back, “on how well you can win a woman’s heart.”

He gave a faint, broken smile.

Valentina had been watching us, her suspicion slowly melting into pleasure as she saw me raise my gun toward Damian. He pretended to defend himself, blocking my arm.

Then, in a blur, I twisted my wrist, redirected the aim, and pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed like thunder.

Valentina’s eyes widened. She didn’t even have time to scream before the bullet tore through her skull. She collapsed in a heap, the remote clattering from her hand.

It was finally over.