Chapter 148 Fiorella
I was back at my estate now, I spent the night at the De Luca mansion and once it was dawn I left because I was just too angry to stay.
The photo lay between the coffee cups on the table like a wound that refused to close. I hadn't slept. Every time that I closed my eyes, I saw her face again-my mother's, thinner, older, but unmistakably hers.
Alive.
Chained.
I sat rying to make sense of a truth that shredded everything I thought I knew.
Why would my father have announced her dead and did a burial?
What happened that I don’t know about?
Leo leaned over the table once more to study the photograph. “He's playing a long game, Fiorella. Using her to bait you."
“I know.” My voice cracked and I hated how small it sounded. “But what am I supposed to do, Leo? Pretend this doesn’t exist?”
He shook his head. "No. But we move smart. Not desperate."
They should have grounded me, but they did not. I felt the air thin and my thoughts looping-mother, alive, captured, pleading
“I need to move fast Leo.”
Leo watched me for a second . “You're not going to tell Rocco what you're planning, are you?”
I met his eyes. “Would you?”
He didn’t answer.
By afternoon, I couldn't take it anymore-the photo, the note, the questions gnawing at my chest. Phillipe had given me a direction, a riddle wrapped in malice: Old Sanctuary — Eastern Coast.
He hesitated when I mentioned it. “There’s an abandoned church there,” he said. “Burned down decades ago. Smugglers used it for a while. You think it’s connected?”
“I don’t think,” I replied. “I know. We have to check it out.”
He didn't like it, but he didn't try to stop me either. That's the thing about Leo, loyal to the core, even when he knows I'm about to walk into fire.
We drove for hours, the coastline curving like a scar across the horizon. Salt wind slipped through the car window, tangling my hair. The sea glittered cold and endless on the right, the cliffs on the left steep and unforgiving.
By the time we got to the ruins, the sun was low over the horizon, bleeding gold into the waves. The "sanctuary" wasn't much anymore-a skeleton of stone, half-swallowed by vines and time. Crows perched on the broken cross at the top, their cries echoing.
“Stay alert,” I said quietly, stepping out. The gravel crunched beneath my boots.
Inside, dust filled the air and the faint smell of seaweed permeated. Light filtered through the shattered stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors on the cracked floor.
Leo moved forward, gun drawn. I scanned every corner, every shadow. The only sound was my heartbeat-a steady drum in my ears.
Then I saw it.
A phone, small and black, lying in the middle of the aisle as if someone had put it there on purpose. The screen was dark.
I knelt, feeling a hesitation in my heartbeat as my fingers reached out, then touched the glass. The moment they did, it lit up.
One video file waited. No title, no timestamp. Just Play.
“Leo,” I whispered. He turned, saw the screen and nodded once.
My thumb trembled as I pressed it.
I turned it on-the static. Then a light flickered, faint, and I saw a face-her face. My breath hitched.
“Fiorella…”
Her voice sounded soft, cracked, but it still held that warmth I remembered from dreams. “My darling girl… if you’re seeing this, then he kept his word… at least this part.”
Behind her, the walls were concrete, damp. Chains glinted faintly in the corner. She looked thin, but her eyes, gods, her eyes, were alive.
"I don't know how much time I have," she said, her eyes darting off-screen. "But listen to me. You have to be careful. They're not who you think they are. The Valentis, Phillipe… they're just pieces. The one behind all this—"
The sound cracked. The image distorted, flickering violently.
“—find the name… Nek… he’s—”
Someone punched her in the face.
For a moment, the screen went black, then flickered again.
She smiled, faint and trembling. “Please… please save me.”
The screen had frozen on her face, her eyes wide, mouth parting as though she were about to say more, and then it cut to static.
For a long time, there was nothing. Just the sea wind whispering through broken glass.
Leo exhaled shakily. “We need to get her out.”
I pressed the phone to my chest, the ache in my throat sharp enough to choke me. “He knew I’d come here. He wanted me to find this.”
"Then he's watching," Leo said grimly, looking around them. "We need to go. Now."
But I couldn't move. My mother's voice still echoed in my head, soft and desperate.
Please save me.
As I finally stood, I pocketed the phone, the chill of the metal searing against my palm.
As we reached the doorway, Leo froze. “Fiorella…” I followed his gaze.
Outside, on the hood of our car, a note lay folded and waiting - white paper against black steel. No signature.
Just three words scrawled in bold ink: Did you like the show?