4

While I was trying to find evidence and clear my name, Matteo's fiancée, Elena Ferri, came to the farm and set his phone in front of me.

"We only got his things back yesterday. When I was going through his phone, I found a voice message he never sent."

She opened Matteo's chat with Luca. The final message was a voice note marked "failed to send," timestamped the night before the address leaked.

I played the voice note again. "Sofia came by for the new address. She said you told her to pick it up. But you told me yourself she wasn't involved in any of this. Something's not right. You should look into it when you get back."

So Sofia had entered the records room and taken the new address the night before the leak, without Luca's knowledge.

I had barely saved the recording when Joint Council officers arrived to take me in for more questioning.

I played the recording for them immediately. Then Luca and Sofia arrived.

The moment Sofia heard the voice message, her expression changed.

The council members questioned Luca. He remained silent for a few seconds. If he admitted he hadn't known, my name would be cleared.

"I'm the one who sent her. Matteo didn't know I'd arranged it."

My head snapped up. I'd spent days making excuses for him.

When he let them search the farm, I told myself it would end once they finished.

When he pulled the guards, I excused him again, telling myself he'd never expected anyone to actually try to kill me.

I was hurt that Luca had left me alone in the hospital to go see Sofia.

But this was different. He knew better than anyone that Sofia had leaked the address, and he was sacrificing me to protect her.

Sofia had power and influence behind her, so of course Luca would always put her first. I was just an orphan with no family to back me. Why would my feelings matter?

Maybe he cared about me a little, but his feelings for me would never matter as much as power.

I didn't look at him again.

The Joint Council's men moved in to take us away. One of them grabbed my right arm.

The freshly stitched wound tore open, and I doubled over in pain.

"Stand up straight! Don't try anything!"

The man beside him pinned me down by the shoulder. The handcuff clicked shut right over my wound.

Blood seeped through the gauze.

Luca's expression changed, and he stepped forward.

The man holding me reached for his gun. "What? You want to stop the Joint Council from taking her?"

Luca stopped.

They shoved me into the car. By the time we reached the council hall, my right arm hurt so badly I could barely lift it.

The hall was packed with people from both families.

Matteo wasn't the only person killed in the police raid.

The moment I was pushed inside, someone recognized me.

"That's her!"

Someone jerked the chain around my waist, sending me stumbling into the center of the hall.

Before I could regain my footing, several people closed in around me.

A middle-aged man lunged forward and grabbed my collar, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

Someone tried to hold him back, but he kept his grip on my clothes like a madman and dragged me several steps.

"My son died that night. Why are you still alive?!"

Someone shoved me from behind while another spat in my face.

"Kill her right here!"

"Bury her alive or burn her to death! Don't let her die too easily!"

"She should go straight to hell and pay for their deaths!"

The shouting closed in from every direction.

More people shoved back their chairs and surged forward. The few guards trying to maintain order couldn't hold them back.

Several took the chance to punch and kick me. Within moments, I was covered in cuts and bruises.

They dragged me across the floor. The pain made my vision swim, and blood kept spilling from my mouth.

The people at the front ripped the chain from the men guarding me and looped it around my neck. They'd already decided how they wanted me to die.

Then the man who'd been restrained broke free, raised his gun, and aimed it at my head. His finger moved toward the trigger.

Looking at his twisted, hate-filled face, I was certain my life would end there.

A loud crash suddenly rang out from the far end of the long table.

Lorenzo, seated at the head of the table, shot to his feet so fast his chair toppled behind him.

His gaze cut through the crowd and locked on my face.

Across from him, Isabella recognized me at the same instant.

The wineglass in her hand hit the edge of the table, spilling red wine all over it.

She drew her gun and shouted, "Everyone, stop!"

The hall fell silent.

At that moment, the lead investigator rushed in and placed a newly recovered surveillance photo on the table. "New evidence. A Moretti transport truck appeared near the meeting site before the police ambush."

The license plate was covered, and the driver's face was obscured.

Only one thing was certain.

Besides Sofia, another insider had known the address in advance.