Page 90
Story: Crown of Blood
Matteo's voice cuts through the tension, drawing Luca's attention away from the door. I release the breath I've been holding, legs trembling beneath me.
"What?" Luca snaps, irritation clear in his tone.
"If you will please allow me now. Let him suffer for a moment, so I can show you what we have found."
Luca spits at the man and move over towards Matteo. "Fine. What is it?"
"This afternoon, upon checking the repairs, we found something of interest." Matteo stands partially in my line of sight, his back rigid. "In Elena's casket."
Luca goes very still, the pliers dropping from his suddenly slack fingers. "Show me."
Matteo hesitates, glancing at the devastated man hanging from the chains. "Perhaps we should continue this privately."
"Don't worry about this piece of shit. He won't remember any of this," Luca says dismissively. "He'll be lucky to remember his own name when I'm done. What did you find?"
Matteo reaches into his jacket, withdrawing a sealed evidence bag. Inside lies what appears to be a bloodstained envelope, yellowed with age.
"Alessio is certain this wasn't there before," Matteo says, voice lowered. "Someone planted it during the desecration."
"Open it."
Matteo carefully breaks the seal, extracting a folded document from inside. As he unfolds it, I strain to see from my hiding place.
"And a ballistics report." He scans the contents, face hardening. "The bullet that killed Elena. It matches..."
"A Ravelli gun," Luca finishes, voice hollow. "My father's, specifically."
The silence that follows is absolute.
"There's more," Matteo continues after a long moment, flicking through the pages. "There's bank transfers. Dates. Names. Someone has been building a case—"
"Against Vito," Luca's voice has changed, grown softer, more dangerous. "Someone wants me to believe my father killed my mother."
"The evidence is compelling, sir," Matteo says carefully.
"My father is many things. A murderer, certainly. A monster, without question." Luca takes the papers, scanning them with narrowed eyes. "But this? This is too clean. Too convenient."
"The timing," Matteo agrees, "suggests manipulation."
"Find out who planted this," Luca orders, handing the documents back. "And why." His gaze returns to the broken man hanging before him. "I'll finish up with our guest here."
I can't bear to see more. Can't bear to witness what "finishing" means to Luca in this state. I back away from the door, moving as silently as my trembling legs allow.
My mind reels with what I've just witnessed. My usually controlled, despite questionable, husband transforming into something beyond mere violence.
This isn't the man who held me after I visited my mother. This isn't the man who kissed me beneath the stars and carved his mark into my skin with something almost like tenderness.
This is a monster wearing his face.
And I can't fucking do this anymore.
I flee blindly through the mansion, gathering only essentials—the few pieces of jewelry I could truly call mine, a change of clothes, the cash I've been secretly setting aside for weeks.
Teresa finds me stuffing items into a small bag, her face grim but unsurprised.
"So, you've seen him," she says.
"I can't stay," I tell her. "Not after what I just witnessed. Not in this house of blood and secrets."
"What?" Luca snaps, irritation clear in his tone.
"If you will please allow me now. Let him suffer for a moment, so I can show you what we have found."
Luca spits at the man and move over towards Matteo. "Fine. What is it?"
"This afternoon, upon checking the repairs, we found something of interest." Matteo stands partially in my line of sight, his back rigid. "In Elena's casket."
Luca goes very still, the pliers dropping from his suddenly slack fingers. "Show me."
Matteo hesitates, glancing at the devastated man hanging from the chains. "Perhaps we should continue this privately."
"Don't worry about this piece of shit. He won't remember any of this," Luca says dismissively. "He'll be lucky to remember his own name when I'm done. What did you find?"
Matteo reaches into his jacket, withdrawing a sealed evidence bag. Inside lies what appears to be a bloodstained envelope, yellowed with age.
"Alessio is certain this wasn't there before," Matteo says, voice lowered. "Someone planted it during the desecration."
"Open it."
Matteo carefully breaks the seal, extracting a folded document from inside. As he unfolds it, I strain to see from my hiding place.
"And a ballistics report." He scans the contents, face hardening. "The bullet that killed Elena. It matches..."
"A Ravelli gun," Luca finishes, voice hollow. "My father's, specifically."
The silence that follows is absolute.
"There's more," Matteo continues after a long moment, flicking through the pages. "There's bank transfers. Dates. Names. Someone has been building a case—"
"Against Vito," Luca's voice has changed, grown softer, more dangerous. "Someone wants me to believe my father killed my mother."
"The evidence is compelling, sir," Matteo says carefully.
"My father is many things. A murderer, certainly. A monster, without question." Luca takes the papers, scanning them with narrowed eyes. "But this? This is too clean. Too convenient."
"The timing," Matteo agrees, "suggests manipulation."
"Find out who planted this," Luca orders, handing the documents back. "And why." His gaze returns to the broken man hanging before him. "I'll finish up with our guest here."
I can't bear to see more. Can't bear to witness what "finishing" means to Luca in this state. I back away from the door, moving as silently as my trembling legs allow.
My mind reels with what I've just witnessed. My usually controlled, despite questionable, husband transforming into something beyond mere violence.
This isn't the man who held me after I visited my mother. This isn't the man who kissed me beneath the stars and carved his mark into my skin with something almost like tenderness.
This is a monster wearing his face.
And I can't fucking do this anymore.
I flee blindly through the mansion, gathering only essentials—the few pieces of jewelry I could truly call mine, a change of clothes, the cash I've been secretly setting aside for weeks.
Teresa finds me stuffing items into a small bag, her face grim but unsurprised.
"So, you've seen him," she says.
"I can't stay," I tell her. "Not after what I just witnessed. Not in this house of blood and secrets."
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