Chapter 6

The next morning, just as I was leaving the consulate after getting my exit visa, my phone blew up with messages from Cici:

"Bella! Look at the headlines!"

Confused, I opened my phone. When I saw the news, I felt like I'd been plunged into ice water.

Last night, dozens of people who bought seafood from the market run by Ava's foster parents suffered heavy metal poisoning. The seafood, it turned out, came from industrially polluted waters.

But instead of a photo of Ava's foster parents, the headshots they used were of my mom and dad.

I immediately called the paper's editor and demanded he remove my parents' photos.

But the editor hemmed and hawed, refusing. It wasn't until I threatened to have our family lawyers pay him a visit that he finally coughed up the truth.

"These photos... Miss Ava's assistant paid us a huge sum to keep quiet and specifically requested the change. The assistant also hinted that this was a PR move to protect the family's reputation, one personally approved by the Don."

A roar filled my ears, and the world went silent.

After hanging up, I stumbled into a taxi and headed straight for the Moretti Tower.

I was going to demand an explanation.

As I reached the corridor outside his office, before I could even knock, I heard the voice of Lorenzo's family advisor, Marco, from inside, filled with confusion and anger.

"Have you seen the news? The seafood stall is in trouble, and the media is using photos of Isabella's parents. Even if you're convinced Isabella was behind the poisoning, you can't let Ava use a dead woman's image to spite her. If this gets out, how does that reflect on you as Don?"

But all he got in response was Lorenzo's weary, helpless sigh. "Ava released the photos?"

He rubbed his temples, his voice filled with suppressed frustration.

"Yesterday, Isabella deliberately 'ran into' me at the harbor, and less than two hours later, people were poisoned. Ava's parents are simple folk. They would never knowingly buy polluted seafood. The only person who would use such tactics to frame them is Isabella. Who else would be so ruthless?"

"I thought she had learned her lesson, but she's still resorting to these low-down tricks. As for Ava… she likely lost her temper in retaliation. I'll handle it."

Every word was a knife, stabbing into my chest, twisting my insides with pain.

How ridiculous.

The very devotion I once had for him was now the evidence of my guilt.

Because I had once taken a bullet for him, I was now the ruthless one in his eyes.

If that was the case, then perhaps the comments were wrong too.

Lorenzo Moretti had never truly loved me.

The tenderness I mistook for love was just his duty as head of the family, his responsibility to an orphan. Nothing more.

The past decade of my life had been nothing but a ridiculous joke of my own making.

I returned to my apartment like a ghost.

Someone had leaked the address of my penthouse on the dark web, claiming that Ava and her parents were hiding there.

When I got home, the door had been splashed with scarlet paint, and the security lock had been violently pried open.

Filth was smeared on the walls my father had so carefully painted. The leather furniture my mother had chosen was slashed to ribbons.

Even the family photo of my parents and me had been slashed to pieces and thrown into the toilet.

I stood at the door, stunned, looking at the wreckage. I didn't cry, I didn't scream.

I packed my few remaining clothes into a suitcase, found the number for a cleaning company to handle the mess, and hired a real estate agent to sell the property at a fire-sale price.

With that done, I dragged my suitcase to the airport.

The board showed ten minutes until departure.

I posted the low-price purchase contract between Ava's family's stall and the unlicensed supplier, which my private investigator had found. I posted it online, along with my parents' death certificates, and tagged the Moretti Group's official account.

The caption read: My parents died ten years ago. So I ask you, how can the dead run a seafood stall that opened last week?

"As for who poisoned innocent people, I believe this signed purchase order, clearly marked 'from polluted waters,' provides the answer."

Less than five minutes after I posted it, the story exploded.

The next second, my phone blew up.