“That was about justice!”
“Justice? He murdered my family and then spent years turning you into his revenge fantasy!”
Sophie’s face goes white. “Uncle Enzo didn’t kill anyone.”
“The evidence says otherwise.”
“Evidence can be faked. Someone planted this to make you think exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Who would do that?”
“I don’t know! But Uncle Enzo raised me when no one else would.
“He killed my parents and then lied to you about everything.”
“You’re wrong.”
“The proof is right there. Your uncle burned down our house with my mother inside.”
“I trusted you,” Sophie says, her voice barely above a whisper. “This week, I actually started to trust you. Started to think that maybe we could figure this out together.”
“We can. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
“By accusing my uncle of murder?”
“You just accused me of harming him minutes ago, Sophie! When did you become a hypocrite?”
The slap comes out of nowhere, sharp and stinging across my cheek. We both freeze, staring at each other in the sudden silence.
“If…” she starts, tears streaming down her face. “If the evidence leads to my family being the real killers? If everything Uncle Enzo told me was a lie? Then what, Dom? What happens to me?”
The question breaks something in my chest. Because I can see it now—not just the anger, but the terror underneath. Sophie isn’t just defending her uncle. She’s defending the foundation of everything she’s believed about herself.
“Sophie-”
“No. I can’t do this.” She’s already moving toward the stairs. “I can’t stay here and listen to you tear apart the only family I have left.”
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
“Sophie, wait-”
But she’s gone, her footsteps echoing down the hallway like gunshots.
I stand alone in the living room, surrounded by the damning documents.
My phone buzzes with a text message. Unknown number again.
She’s protecting him just like her father protected him. Some people never learn.
I stare at the message, pieces clicking into place.
The photographs arrived at the perfect moment. The threats escalated just when we were getting close. Even Sophie finding those documents feels too convenient, too perfectly timed.
This has manipulation written all over it. Someone’s been pulling strings from the shadows, feeding us information designed to tear us apart.
They want us to turn on each other.