Chapter 8 - THE VIPER'S NEST
With Matteo isolated, I targeted Isabella next. She was still living in my estate, parading around as the grieving widow. She thought she was untouchable, believing Matteo was handling the situation.
I walked right through the front doors of my own mansion. The few remaining guards, knowing the Commission's ruling, lowered their weapons and stepped aside.
I found her in the grand living room, sipping champagne. She looked up, her eyes widening in pure shock as I walked in, Carlo right behind me holding a silenced pistol.
"Lorenzo," she gasped, dropping the crystal flute. It shattered on the marble floor—a poetic echo of the glass Matteo had dropped days ago.
"Hello, Isabella," I said smoothly, taking a seat on the leather sofa opposite her. "Or do you prefer Mrs. Rossi? Or fake Valentina?"
Her face paled, the arrogant mask finally slipping. "You... you have no proof."
"I have your doctor's confession. I have your old medical files. The Commission has seen everything. You are a ghost, Isabella. And today, you return to the grave."
She fell to her knees, sobbing—a theatrical performance that disgusted me. "It was Matteo! He forced me! He told me he would kill me if I didn't help him!"
"Liar," I stated coldly. "You wanted the wealth. You wanted the power. You threw my newborn son in the garbage."
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I didn't lay a hand on her. I didn't need to. "Carlo, hand her over to the Romano family. They have a particular distaste for women who murder children. Let them deal with her."
As she screamed, dragged away by my men, I felt no pity. Only the cold, calculated satisfaction of excising a tumor from my life. Now, only Matteo remained.
