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Chapter Seventeen: Who sent you that

作者: Lina Franklin
last update 公開日: 2026-04-28 19:11:38

“Nothing happened,” Isabella said to herself quietly as she stood in the corridor outside the painting room, her fingers resting on the edge of the wooden box as she gently closed the lid and placed it back exactly where she found it, careful like even breathing too hard would make everything worse.

She stayed there a moment longer, staring at the closed box, then whispered, “It is not my business,” and turned away even though her chest felt tight in a way she did not want to name.

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  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 37: The Photograph

    The words were stuck in Victor’s throat, thick and heavy like old oil. He hated this. He hated the way his stomach twisted, a familiar cold knot forming low in his gut. Protecting Isabella felt like a constant battle against forces he couldn’t always see, and now, calming her was no longer part of that equation. Keeping her calm was the opposite of what he had to do. This was going to break that fragile peace they’d somehow cultivated. But she needed to know. She deserved to know.Victor pulled out his phone, the screen felt hot in his hand, and turned it around without a word. The image filled the small space between them, stark and intrusive. Isabella, standing by the sandwich cart, her dark hair catching the light, a small, unconscious smile on her lips. A moment of normal, weaponized.Her eyes, usually so expressive, widened just a fraction. It was fleeting, a ripple across a perfectly still pond. Then, the stillness settled in, cold and sharp, like winter ice. Victor recognized i

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 36: Decisions

    The dead line hummed in Victor’s ear, a stark reminder of Cora’s words. Thirty seconds. He held the phone to his ear, listening to nothing, absorbing the silence that now filled the space where her frantic voice had been. Kevin was coming. Kevin knew about the necklace. He had killed someone for it. Victor lowered the receiver slowly, the plastic cool against his palm.“Seth!” he bellowed, his voice rougher than he intended.A moment later, crisp knocks sounded on his door, and then Seth entered, closing it softly behind him. He looked at Victor, a question in his eyes. Seth was good at picking up on shifts in Victor’s mood, always had been. Today, the shift was a seismic event.“Cora called,” Victor began, the words tumbling out, almost tripping over each other. He told him everything. Her terror, the hurried warning, the name: Kevin Moretti. He described the necklace, the specific way she’d spoken about it, connecting it unequivocally to Felix. And then, the chilling detail—the woma

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 35: Cora

    Victor’s fingers tightened around the phone, the plastic digging into his palm. It had been thirteen years. Thirteen long years since she’d vanished, a ghost in the wind, leaving nothing but questions and a gaping hole in his life. He’d torn the city apart looking for her, chasing shadows, clinging to scraps of hope that always turned to dust. Now, a voice, a whisper from the past, was making his blood run cold.“Cora?” he breathed, the name a foreign sound on his tongue after so long.“Yes, Victor. It’s me.” Her voice, softer now, but with an underlying steel he remembered well, sent a shiver down his spine.His mind reeled, trying to process the impossible. “Where have you been? Why… how?”“I had to disappear,” she said, her tone flat, devoid of emotion. “It was the only way to survive.”“Survive what?” The words tumbled out, laced with a decade of frustration.“The information I possessed,” she explained, a sigh escaping her lips. “It made me a target. Staying alive wasn’t easy,

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 34: Kevin's Words

    The sticky note felt thin, almost transparent, in Victor’s hand. Isabella’s neat handwriting, a stark contrast to Kevin’s blunt messages, pulled him in. He read the words once, then again. “He said you were a good employer. He also told me to take care of myself.”To most, they were polite pleasantries. Generic, even. But his gut twisted. He knew the language Kevin spoke. “A good employer.” It was never a compliment, not from someone like him. It was a probe, a test. Kevin had been watching Isabella, seeing how naturally she’d defended Victor, judging her loyalty. He’d been calculating, always calculating.And then, “take care of myself.” That one hit harder. In their world, those words weren't a kind farewell. They were an omen. A warning. It meant danger brewed, and Kevin knew more than he let on. It meant he was positioning himself, planting a seed of possibility in Isabella’s mind, making her aware of him, making her wonder if he might be a useful ally down the road. Kevin was

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 33: The Performance

    Isabella arrived at the office twenty minutes early, the silence a balm she desperately needed. Her bag landed on her chair with a soft thump, and she immediately began her morning ritual. Each action was deliberate, a shield against the gnawing unease. She arranged every file on her desk, ensuring perfect alignment, then attacked her inbox, deleting, archiving, and responding until it gleamed. Victor’s schedule was next; she reviewed it, noting every meeting, every call, every potential interruption. Requests from department heads, outstanding memos—she tackled them all, dispatching replies with practiced efficiency long before anyone else even thought about stepping out of an elevator. She had learned early, at twelve years old, that survival often meant pretending. Pretending everything was normal, pretending the world hadn’t shattered, pretending the gaping hole in her chest wasn’t there. Today was no different. By the time the first junior analyst shuffled in, gripping a pap

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 32: What she decides

    “Isabella stared at the necklace in Victor’s outstretched hand, the silver chain glinting under the dim light of the vault. Thirteen years. Thirteen years, every single morning, she’d clasped it at her throat without a second thought. It was the last thing her father ever gave her. She wasn’t going to take it off. Her mind drifted back, a blurry photograph of a twelve-year-old girl, her small hands fumbling with the clasp. Her mother was too lost in her own grief to notice her carefully packing it, a tiny, precious secret. She carried it across an ocean, from the ancient cobblestones of Rome to the sprawl of Los Angeles, and it hadn’t left her neck since. Not once.It was her father who put it there. He encoded something into it, something vital, and then he placed it around his twelve-year-old daughter’s neck. He sent her away knowing it would keep her connected to whatever he was desperately trying to protect. And he must have known, too, that connection could get her killed if the

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 31: The Tape

    “Read it again,” Victor said, his voice low and rough as he stared at Isabella’s phone like it might change if he looked away for even a second.Isabella did not argue with him and did not tease him for asking because she could see something in his face that scared her more than the message itself,

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 30: The Messenger

    “What happens now,” Isabella said, her voice quiet but steady as she sat across from Victor and tried to keep her hands from shaking in her lap.Victor did not answer right away and she did not rush him because she was busy turning his last words over and over in her head, slow and careful, the sam

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 29: The Space Between Isabella and Victor

    “Why does Kevin matter to you this much when you barely say his name without your jaw locking like that,” Isabella said, her voice already tired.Victor did not answer immediately.“I asked you a question,” Isabella said again, softer this time, “and I am done pretending I do not notice when your e

  • TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER   Chapter 28: The sable communion

    “I am going to need you to start from the beginning,” Isabella said as she followed Victor into the study, her voice controlled but tight, like she was holding herself together by force rather than choice.Victor closed the door behind them without rushing, then walked past her toward the window li

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