Chapter 4: The Secret Behind Michael’s Death
The next forty-eight hours changed everything.
The mansion stopped feeling like a home.
It felt like a courtroom.
Every room held evidence.
Every conversation carried a hidden meaning.
Luca read Michael’s note alone.
When he came downstairs, he looked different.
Older.
Rachel noticed immediately.
“What did he say?””
Luca looked at her.
“He knew.””
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Knew what?””
“That Vanessa was trying to separate us.””
Ben stood beside his mother.
“I told you.””
Luca knelt.
“You were right.””
The boy looked surprised.
Adults rarely admitted that to children.
Especially powerful adults.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen sooner.””
Ben nodded.
Then he asked:
“Are you going to make her leave?””
Nobody answered.
Because sometimes the truth is easier than the consequences.
Vanessa arrived that afternoon.
She walked into the mansion like she still owned it.
But this time nobody moved aside.
Luca was waiting.
“You lied to me.””
Vanessa’s face remained calm.
“I protected you.””
“No.””
His voice was cold.
“You protected yourself.””
She stepped closer.
“You have no idea what Michael was involved in.””
“Then tell me.””
Silence.
Again.
The same mistake.
Luca shook his head.
“You never loved my family.””
Vanessa’s expression cracked.
“I loved you.””
“Then why did you spend two years trying to erase the people I loved?””
She had no answer.
Instead, she looked at me.
“You.””
I blinked.
“Me?””
“You ruined everything.””
I almost laughed.
Because that was the kind of person Vanessa was.
She could create the fire.
Then blame the person who noticed the smoke.
“I told the truth.””
She smiled coldly.
“That’s what people say when they don’t understand consequences.””
Before I could answer, Luca stepped between us.
“Leave.””
Vanessa looked at him.
“You’re choosing them?””
He looked toward Rachel.
Toward Ben.
Then toward me.
“I’m choosing the truth.””
Vanessa left.
But she didn’t look defeated.
She looked like someone who had already planned her next move.
That night, Luca received another message.
This time, it wasn’t a recording.
It was a photograph.
A photograph of Michael the day before he died.
Standing beside someone.
Someone we all recognized.
Someone who should not have been there.
Vanessa.
May you like
And beneath the picture were four words:
“Ask her what happened.””
