Chapter 116 MORE EVIDENCES

Chapter 116 MORE EVIDENCES

~ELENA~

How?

How can this be possible?

How can a man murder his own wife and daughter?? How can a man be so cold and ruthless?? How can a man be a monster??

He's the one training his sons to be cold and ruthless. He's teaching them to be monsters….to kill without emotions.

No wonder he wanted a son. He wanted people who would take after him.

For Sophia's mother to have been so scared when she saw a gun, she didn't know her husband was in the Mafia family.

Was that why she wanted to escape? Did she tell someone about it? And Lorenzo got angry and killed her??

That means the brothers aren't safe either. Lorenzo could kill any of them at any time too.

I remember seeing so many bruises and marks on their bodies and I'm sure it must have been inflicted by Lorenzo.

I remember how he had punished them when they rescued me from Giacomo.

I sigh deeply.

Sophia must have hidden more. The triplets couldn't find out about this because they couldn't bring themselves to search through her things.

So I'll do it for them. I'll search her things, gather enough evidence and bring justice to her death.

For Sophia to hide her diaries here, it must mean that Lorenzo rarely comes here.

I start searching the attic for more evidence and keep searching.

Something in me knows she hid more.

I move a dusty painting aside—and freezes.

A floorboard is loose. With trembling fingers, I pry it open.

Inside lay…..A cracked phone, A USB drive, A folded letter addressed to Riccardo

I open the letter first.

“I know you’ll be the only one brave enough to believe me. Papa killed Mama.

And if he kills me too… it will be because I knew.”

My stomach flips.

Hands shaking, I connect the phone to a charger I found in the attic.

The screen flickers.

One audio file. Dated the night before she died.

I press play.

Lorenzo’s voice filled the attic. Cold. Sharp. Merciless.

“She knows. If she talks, we lose everything. My sons will turn against me and I can't let that happen. They're my investments, my tools. Handle it.”

My blood runs ice-cold.

A second voice replied, “The pool?”

And Lorenzo answered, “Make it look like an accident.”

The phone slips from my hands.

I can’t breathe. I am speechless for a very long time.

The pool.

There might be clues there.

I don't even know I still have the strength to walk, not after what I read. But I find myself walking out of the attic and out of the basement with the evidence in my hands.

I am no longer quiet and careful with my walking steps and actions. The brothers can see me now, but I don't care.

But the house is still very quiet. So I make my way to the pool easily, still holding the torch I found in the attic even though there are lights in the compound.

I arrive at the pool, the place where she had died.

The water is still. Beautiful. A murderer’s perfect disguise.

I kneel by the edge. And then, I see it.

A scratch on the railing…..deep, desperate, finger-shaped.

Like someone had grabbed for life.

There are more.

Scrape marks. Broken tiles at the deepest end.

Everything screamed struggle. Everything screamed she fought.

I swallow back nausea.

She didn’t slip. She didn’t drown. She was held under.

By the man who taught her to swim.

I stay there for a long time.

Kneeling. Staring.

Letting the truth seep into my bones until it becomes too heavy to carry.

The night air feels colder now, biting into my skin, crawling beneath my clothes. The pool reflects the moon like nothing evil ever happened here…..like a woman didn’t claw at stone and water, like her lungs didn’t burn as someone she trusted pushed her under.

I press my palm against the rough scrape on the railing. My fingers fit too easily into the grooves.

A scream builds in my chest.

I clamp my teeth down hard until my jaw aches, because screaming here would be suicide. Because monsters have ears. Because this house belongs to Lorenzo even when he isn’t inside it.

I stand on shaky legs and back away from the pool.

Evidence. I have evidence.

The phone. The USB. The letter.

Proof that could destroy him.

Or get me killed.

My heart begins to race as reality crashes back in—violent and unforgiving.

I shouldn't have moved in here.

In a Mafia family’s property.

Holding secrets that were buried with blood.

My gaze snaps toward the house instinctively, every shadow suddenly alive. I expect to see a light flick on. A silhouette at the window. A man watching.

Nothing. But that doesn’t mean I’m safe.

I force myself to breathe, to think.

The triplets need to know. They deserve to know. Riccardo deserves to read that letter. They deserve the truth about their mother and sister….even if it shatters them.

But not here.

Not now.

I clutch the evidence tighter against my chest and turn away from the pool, my steps slower, cautious again. Every sound feels amplified—the crunch of gravel, the whisper of wind through trees, the pounding of my own heart.

And then….

It hits me. So suddenly it steals my breath.

My mother.

My steps falter.

Mama is alone. Alone with Lorenzo. At the other house.

The image slams into my mind with brutal clarity—her standing in the doorway earlier, smoothing my hair back with trembling fingers.

I remember the tight hug we had. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The way she held onto my hand a second too long. I remember her pouring out her regrets at marrying Lorenzo.

I remember how her voice cracked when she said my name. How she looked at me like she was memorizing my face. Like she was afraid.

Like it was goodbye.

A chill runs through me, sharp and paralyzing.

What if she knows something?

What if Lorenzo suspects her?

What if mom is going through what his first wife went through??

No.

No, no, no.

My chest tightens painfully as fear coils around my heart. Lorenzo doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t spare women. He doesn’t spare family.

He killed his wife.

He ordered his daughter’s death.

My mother would mean nothing to him.

I look back toward the dark road leading away from the estate, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Something is wrong.

I don’t know how I know it—but I do.

And somewhere, miles away, my mother is alone with a man who has already proven how easily he kills.

The night feels suddenly too quiet.

Too still.

As if the world itself is holding its breath.

I need to speak to my mother! Right now! I need to be sure she is okay else I'll lose my mind.

As so I run back into the house, screaming Vincenzo, Nico and Riccardo names as I run.

My mother might be in danger!