Chapter 65: The Devil Behind the Mask

Chapter 65: The Devil Behind the Mask

The drive back to the main estate was quiet, too quiet for what had just occurred. Evangeline kept her eyes glued to the rain-slicked window, her thoughts spiraling as fast as the wipers swiping across the glass. Beside her, Luca sat like a coiled beast—tense, brooding, fingers clenched so tightly around the steering wheel his knuckles looked ready to split.

Neither had spoken since Matteo’s revelation. The USB drive was tucked inside Luca’s inner coat pocket like a loaded gun.

She didn’t ask to see it. Not yet.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Matteo. No—deep down, she always knew Luca wasn’t the architect of her family’s ruin. But knowing wasn’t enough. Not when someone else had been puppeteering their destruction, all while hiding behind familiar shadows.

And that meant someone close. Too close.

Luca’s voice broke the silence. “Matteo said the footage was spliced from the security system at the Delacroix auction. If it’s authentic…”

“It means someone had access to both our lives,” she said, cutting in. “Not just yours. Mine too.”

He looked at her briefly, then back at the road. “That narrows it down.”

Evangeline scoffed. “No, Luca. It doesn’t. You and I built our lives around enemies. We just dressed them up in tuxedos and gave them wine at charity galas.”

He pulled into the underground garage, parked, and killed the engine. But he didn’t move.

“I didn’t kill your father,” he said, the words low and firm.

“I know,” she whispered.

He turned, startled.

“You do?” he asked, carefully.

“I hated you for it. For years. But hate fades. Doubt doesn’t. And lately…” She trailed off, inhaling sharply. “Lately, it’s been harder to doubt you.”

His eyes softened, just a fraction.

They entered the estate without a word, the staff all too aware to keep their distance. Rain had begun to fall harder now, thunder growling above the hills surrounding the property. The perfect setting, she thought, for the kind of storm they were walking into.

Luca led her to his private study. The door shut behind them with a soft click that felt heavier than steel. He removed the USB drive from his coat and plugged it into the encrypted laptop Matteo had given him years ago—military-grade security, no wireless access, no cloud syncing.

The screen flickered, then opened a video folder marked “OBLIVION – CLASSIFIED.”

She stood behind him, watching over his shoulder. The first file was dated three years ago—just weeks before her father’s death.

Luca clicked it.

It was surveillance footage from the Delacroix auction, just as Matteo said. But it wasn’t the crowd or the exhibits that mattered. It was the room beneath the auction—the private chamber where high-stakes deals were made.

And standing there, in grainy black and white, was someone they both recognized.

“Is that…” she murmured.

“Xavier De Luca,” Luca said bitterly. “My cousin.”

Evangeline’s blood ran cold.

Xavier. The quiet one. The scholar-turned-diplomat who refused to touch the family business. The one Luca had once protected from their grandfather’s wrath. The one who sent wedding gifts and stayed away from blood feuds.

He was also, apparently, the one who ordered the hit on her father.

The next clip showed him shaking hands with someone else. A woman. Familiar, sharp-featured, elegant. Evangeline felt her knees weaken.

“No,” she whispered. “No, that can’t be—”

But it was. Alessandra Renault.

Her mother’s best friend. Her godmother.

The woman who’d wept beside her during the funeral. The woman who held her hand when she first received the false footage of Luca pulling the trigger. The woman who whispered, “Justice will come” with a voice that had hidden the knife already twisting in her back.

“Play it again,” she said, her voice shaking.

He did.

There they were—Xavier and Alessandra—plotting the downfall of two dynasties. Luca’s empire and her inheritance. A double blow that would remove the two heirs, create a power vacuum, and allow them to rise from the ashes.

“I trusted her,” Evangeline said, staggering back, “She braided my hair when I was little. She helped me pick out my wedding dress…”

Luca stood, quietly closing the laptop. “They wanted to build something. Together. Xavier’s always believed the world needed order. Alessandra… she wanted control.”

“Of what?”

“Everything.”

There was a long silence. And then Luca crossed the space between them.

“I don’t expect forgiveness, Evangeline,” he said. “Not after everything I’ve done. But I need you to know—I never would have taken your father from you.”

She looked up, eyes rimmed red. “And I never would have let you near our son if I thought you did.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Luca froze.

“What did you say?”

Evangeline’s breath caught. She felt her heart trip and tumble as if the words had betrayed her body.

“Evangeline,” he said again, more forcefully this time, “What. Did. You. Say?”

But she couldn’t speak. Not yet. Not when the weight of a thousand secrets crushed her lungs.

The thunder outside cracked like a warning. And all she could think about was the boy with hazel eyes and a smile like sunlight—hidden away, protected from this cruel world.

Their son.

Luca stepped back, shock overtaking fury.

“Is he—?”

“Yes,” she said, barely above a whisper. “He’s yours.”