The plan was simple.
Get Marcelo to slip.
We couldn’t accuse him outright—not without proof—but we could push him, make him reveal something he didn’t mean to.
Evelyn worked through the night, setting up surveillance on his phone, tracking his locations, monitoring his messages. Clara and I would do our part by keeping close, watching for inconsistencies.
I told myself I was ready.
But I wasn’t.
Because deep down, a part of me was still hoping this was all a mistake.
That Marcelo was still the person I had trusted for years.
That I hadn’t been blind all along.
The next morning, I acted normal.
Casual.
Like I wasn’t watching his every move.
Marcelo sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone, his expression unreadable. “What’s the plan for today?”
I shrugged. “No plan. Taking it easy for once.”
He smirked. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
I forced a laugh. “Maybe I’m learning.”
His eyes flickered, but he didn’t push.
Clara walked in, her presence grounding me, her hand brushing against mine in silent reassurance. “Evelyn needs some help with something later,” she said casually.
Marcelo nodded. “I’ll check in with her.”
I held back the tension rising in my chest. That’s exactly what we wanted.
To get him alone with Evelyn.
To push him.
I waited in the next room, earpiece in place, listening as Evelyn started her part of the plan.
“So,” she said, her voice casual. “I ran some background checks.”
Marcelo chuckled. “That’s not surprising.”
“You know me,” she said smoothly. “Always making sure there are no loose ends.”
A pause.
And then, she dropped it.
“I found something interesting about you.”
Silence.
For one long, agonizing moment, he didn’t say anything.
Then...
“What did you find?”
His voice was careful.
Too careful.
Evelyn leaned back in her chair. I couldn’t see her, but I could picture the way she crossed her arms, eyes sharp. “You tell me.”
Another pause.
Then Marcelo sighed. “I figured this was coming.”
I held my breath.
Clara’s grip on my wrist tightened.
Evelyn didn’t react. “And?”
Marcelo exhaled sharply. “I kept things from Bela. For her own protection.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched.
Evelyn didn’t let up. “Like what?”
Marcelo hesitated.
And then he said something that made my stomach drop.
“Her mother didn’t die the way she thinks she did.”
I stormed into the room before Evelyn could stop me.
Marcelo’s head snapped up, his expression unreadable.
“You knew,” I said, my voice shaking.
Marcelo’s shoulders tensed. “Bela—”
“You knew my mother was murdered, and you never told me?”
A flicker of guilt crossed his face. “It wasn’t that simple.”
I clenched my fists. “Then make it simple.”
He hesitated.
Then, finally, he exhaled.
“She found something she wasn’t supposed to.”
I swallowed. “What?”
Marcelo rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know exactly. But she wasn’t killed in an accident. She was silenced.”
My entire world tilted.
Clara stepped beside me, her presence steady, but I barely registered it.
“Who did it?” I whispered.
Marcelo’s jaw tightened.
“Your aunt.”
The room spun.
“No,” I said immediately. “You’re lying.”
Marcelo’s expression remained steady. “I wish I was.”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened on her laptop. “You have proof?”
Marcelo nodded. “I’ve been trying to get it for years. That’s why I stayed close. Why I didn’t tell Bela the truth. Helena has people everywhere. If she knew I was looking—”
I stepped forward. “So you just lied to me?”
Marcelo’s eyes darkened. “You wouldn’t have believed me.”
My stomach twisted. “And what if you’re wrong?”
He didn’t answer.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
And we both knew it.
Evelyn worked through the night, piecing everything together.
Surveillance footage. Corrupt bank transactions. A trail of bodies that had been carefully hidden—but not well enough.
And at the center of it all...
Helena.
“She’s been covering this up for years,” Evelyn said, voice tight. “Your mother got too close. And when she realized it—”
“She tried to warn me,” I whispered.
The photograph.
The one Helena had given me.
It wasn’t just a taunt.
It was a message.
A final clue.
Clara pressed a hand against my back. “What do we do now?”
I exhaled slowly, my chest tight.
“There’s only one thing to do.”
I looked up.
“I end this.”
Helena thought she was untouchable.
She thought she had won.
But she had underestimated me.
The next night, I made the call.
I told her I was ready to listen.
That I wanted to know everything.
She agreed to meet me at her private estate.
Alone.
Clara protested.
Evelyn warned me.
Marcelo offered to come.
But this was my fight.
So I went.
Helena was waiting.
She sat in a high-backed chair, swirling a glass of wine, her expression unreadable. “I’m surprised you came alone.”
I stepped forward. “I needed answers.”
She smirked. “And what makes you think you’ll get them?”
I pulled out my phone, tapping the screen. “Because I already have them.”
A video played.
Footage of her men.
Of the transactions.
Of the proof.
Her smirk faltered.
I leaned in. “It’s over.”
Helena’s eyes flickered.
And then she smiled.
A slow, chilling smile.
“You still don’t understand, do you?”
I clenched my jaw. “What?”
She leaned forward.
“This was never about your mother.”
My blood ran cold.
She chuckled.
“This was about you.”
I barely had time to react before the lights cut out.
A rush of movement.
Then...
A gunshot.
A sharp pain in my shoulder.
I stumbled back, gasping.
And through the darkness, Helena’s voice echoed.
“You were always the real threat, Bela.”
I hit the ground, vision spinning.
The last thing I saw.
Helena walking away.
Smiling.
And then...
Everything went black.