Chapter 44 Beneath Her Smile

Chapter 44 Beneath Her Smile

Scarlett’s POV

The rain had stopped by the time I reached the house. The clouds hung low, bruised and heavy, and the air smelled like secrets that refused to stay buried.

Maria’s house no, our house looked exactly the same. The same rosebushes she trimmed every Saturday morning. The same white curtains that fluttered in the kitchen window.
It should’ve felt familiar. It didn’t.

I hadn’t been here since the night everything fell apart: the gunfire, the fire, the lies. And now, as I stood at the gate, my hands shook not from fear but from something colder. Resolve.

I pushed the door open. The hinges groaned, like they were warning me.

“Scarlett?”
Her voice floated from the living room. Calm. Too calm.
I followed it, each step echoing in the hollow quiet.

Maria sat on the couch in her silk robe, sipping from a glass of red wine. The fireplace crackled, throwing gold light across her face. For a heartbeat, she looked like the mother I used to know, beautiful, put-together, and warm. Then she smiled, and I saw it. The calculation behind her eyes.

“You didn’t call,” she said softly. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“I was,” I said. “But I’m here now.”

She tilted her head, studying me the way a cat studies a wounded bird. “You look tired. Are you still with Damien?”

Her name for him burned in my chest.
“Yes,” I said. “For now.”

Maria’s smile didn’t falter. “For now,” she repeated, almost like she was tasting the words. “You always had a habit of picking the dangerous ones.”

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Guess I learned from you.”

Something flickered behind her gaze. Amusement. Annoyance. Guilt?
I couldn’t tell anymore.

“I made tea,” she said after a moment, setting her glass down and standing. “Chamomile. It used to calm you.”

I followed her into the kitchen, pretending to play along. The counters were spotless. The same porcelain teapot sat on the stove. The same framed photo of my father on the wall, his smile frozen, his eyes full of the kind of love that didn’t survive in this house.

Maria poured two cups and set one in front of me. “You should eat,” she murmured. “You’ve lost weight.”

I didn’t touch the cup. “I’m not hungry.”

She sighed and sat across from me, fingers tracing the rim of her mug. “You know,” she said, “I was hoping we could start over.”

“Start over?” I repeated, my voice sharper than I meant. “After everything?”

She lifted a shoulder, serene as ever. “You’re my daughter. Nothing changes that.”

I looked at her at the woman who had lied to me, betrayed my father, and tried to control every part of my life and for the first time, I saw her clearly. Not as a mother. Not even as an enemy.
Just a woman who had learned to survive by smiling through the blood on her hands.

“I came for answers,” I said quietly. “About Dad. About what really happened.”

Maria’s gaze didn’t waver. “You already know what happened.”

“I know what you told me,” I said. “But I found something. At the docks. A file with Dad’s name on it.”

Her eyes flickered. Just for a second but I saw it.
Fear.

I pressed on. “He was working with Kade, wasn’t he? He wasn’t protecting us. He was in it.”

Maria’s fingers tightened around her cup. “Your father made mistakes. We all did.”

“Did you?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Did you make a mistake when you let him die?”

The sound of porcelain shattering filled the room. The teacup slipped from her hand, splintering across the floor.

Her voice was low, trembling. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then tell me,” I whispered. “Tell me what I don’t know.”

Maria stood abruptly and walked to the counter, her back to me. “You shouldn’t have come here,” she said. “You have no idea what you’re stirring up.”

“Then help me understand,” I pleaded. “Because I keep finding pieces, secrets, lies and they all lead back to you.”

She didn’t move for a long time. Then, quietly, she said, “Your father wasn’t innocent. He was planning to expose Kade. But he didn’t realize Kade had leverage on him, on me.”
Her voice cracked. “They made me choose, Scarlett. Your father’s life… or yours.”

The room tilted. “What?”

She turned then, her eyes wet, mascara smudged. “You were eight. Kade said he’d take you if I didn’t cooperate. So I did what I had to. I made the call that sent your father to that warehouse. I thought he’d survive. I thought—”
She broke off, choking on the words.

My chest burned. My vision blurred. “You let him die to save me?”

Her silence was the answer.

I stumbled back, the chair scraping the tile. “You should’ve told me. All these years you let me hate him. You let me think he was the villain.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “You wouldn’t have understood.”

“You’re right,” I whispered. “I still don’t.”

I turned away, my pulse roaring in my ears. I needed air. Space. Anything but the suffocating sweetness of her perfume.

“Scarlett,” she called softly, “you think you can handle the truth, but you can’t. You’re too much like him.”

I froze in the doorway. “Then maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

When I reached the hall, something caught my eye, a small glint beneath the edge of the rug. I crouched, lifting it. A USB drive.

My breath hitched.

I glanced back. Maria was still in the kitchen, bent over the broken cup, her back turned.

I slipped the drive into my pocket and walked out before I could change my mind.

The rain started again as I reached my car. My hands were shaking as I plugged the USB into my laptop. It took a minute to load and then the screen filled with names, dates, payments.

Not just my father.
Not just Kade.

Damien.

There were dozens of transfers between Kade’s shell companies and one under Damien’s alias. My throat closed. I scrolled faster, hoping I was wrong, that it was a trick. But there it was. Proof.

Maria hadn’t been lying about everything.

The man I had risked everything for might have been part of it from the start.

The file flickered, and a final folder appeared. Labeled only: PROJECT SCARLETT.

My pulse stopped.

Before I could open it, my phone buzzed. A single message.

Unknown Number:
You shouldn’t have taken what isn’t yours.