Rob’s voice cut through the heavy silence. “And here we were, trying to give her a chance to turn things around. I knew she couldn’t be trusted.” His voice was sharp with frustration, and Arya couldn’t help but nod in agreement, the sting of betrayal still fresh. “I can’t believe I took care of her when she was down,” Arya muttered, leaning deeper into Leonardo’s arms. “I feel so foolish.” Her voice wavered, more hurt than she wanted to admit. She wondered why Lima would still be trying to attack the church. “Don’t feel foolish, babe.” Leonardo’s arms tightened around her, his voice a soothing contrast to the tension in the room. “Lima’s the foolish one for thinking she could take advantage of your kindness.” Arya sighed, her eyes drifting to Ricardo, who stood silently by the window, lost in thought. “You’re awfully quiet,” she observed. Ricardo turned away from the window, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, just thinking,” he replied. Leonardo wasn’t letting him off that
Leonardo stood by the window as he made preparations for their next move. Maria and Carls, the two key figures they needed answers from, had been transported to Spain by sea while Leonardo and the rest had flown ahead by jet. He needed to visit them in their cell, but there were other matters to attend to first. Arya’s phone rang, cutting through the quiet tension in the room. She glanced at the screen—an unsaved number. Her instincts flared with caution. Everyone around her paused, sensing the shift in the air. Rob gave her a nod, urging her to answer. Arya hesitated before picking up the call. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was familiar, yet unsettling. “Is this Mrs. Marcello?” the woman asked, her tone too casual for comfort. Arya’s heart quickened. “Yes, who is this?” she responded, her voice steady despite her unease. “It’s me, Lima. You won’t believe what I had to go through to get your number. I went to Ricardo’s place looking for you, but your husband told m
Arya couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The scene in front of her felt surreal—too much to process. She barely registered the ringing of her phone and glanced down to see Lima's name flashing on the screen. Without hesitation, she declined the call and turned her focus back to the unexpected visitors in front of her. "How did you find us?" Leonardo's voice cut through the thick tension. "Did you follow?" Isabel, standing tall with a handful of nuns by her side, offered a calm smile. "Of course not, Don Marcello. We know this place better than anyone. We’ve been here long before you arrived." Arya’s eyes narrowed. "That doesn’t explain how you tracked us down so quickly." Isabel’s expression softened, almost maternal. "Arya, you know more than most. You’ve seen the truth beneath the surface. I promise, we’re not here to fight. But we have something urgent to discuss." Bianca, ever practical, cut in, her voice sharp with suspicion. "How did you even get past the terrorist
They all sat in the empty cabin where the nuns had just finished praying, the atmosphere still thick with the scent of incense and a lingering sense of reverence. Isabel, standing at the center, glanced at each of them with a heavy heart before clearing her throat. "Like I said earlier, Don," she began, "we need your help. Our fight with La Hermandad de la Estrella has roots that stretch back for decades. But the real issue here isn't just old rivalries—it’s something much more personal for your family, Leonardo. Your wife’s mother played a vital role in this conflict. In fact..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "she might have been the one who set everything in motion." Arya frowned, feeling a knot form in her stomach. "Adriana? But you always spoke of her as brave and good. How could she be the one to start a war?" Isabel sighed, the weight of decades pressing on her shoulders. "I know it’s hard to believe, and it doesn’t erase the good that she did. But people
Isabel had to get rid of the body, ASAP! Isabel stared at the lifeless body for a moment, her mind racing. She could burn it in the furnace, scatter the ashes in the woods—or bury it. One thing was certain: she wouldn’t burden Adriana with the details. “Come, my child, let's get you cleaned up," she said softly, taking Adriana's hand and leading her away from the scene. Isabel was grateful she had the only key to the cathedral's back door. No one would discover the body before she returned. Time was on her side—for now. She guided Adriana into her private bathroom, one she shared with the Mother Superior. “Hurry, take off that nightdress and shower,” she instructed, her voice steady, despite the weight of the situation. Adriana, silent and pale, nodded obediently. As the young woman stepped under the icy water, Isabel picked up the blood-soaked garment, carefully placing it into a disposable bag. She glanced at Adriana—her hands trembling under the cold stream. The water w
“It’s been days, and we still haven’t heard from the priest,” Mother Superior said, her voice tight with frustration. “He might’ve gone somewhere quiet,” Chris, the priest’s assistant, suggested, though the uncertainty in his tone was unmistakable. “Where could be quieter than here? Have you checked the graveyard again?” Mother Superior asked, her eyes narrowing as she peered over her glasses. “Yes, Mother. Same result,” Chris responded, though his voice lacked conviction. “I don’t understand. How could he just vanish without a word?” Mother Superior pressed, pacing slightly. “I wish I knew, Mother. The last time I saw him, he was in an unusually excitable mood. He could hardly wait for me to leave the cathedral, eager to be alone,” Chris said, a shadow of confusion crossing his face. Isabel clenched her fists under her habit. That’s because he was preparing to violate a teenager. The words burned in her throat, but she swallowed them back, suffocating under the weight o
By the fourth week since the priest’s disappearance, Isabel’s unease deepened as the police swarmed the church, questioning the nuns and those close to him. Now, it was Adriana’s turn to face the scrutiny, and Isabel held her breath, recalling their earlier conversation. “We need a story,” Isabel had insisted. Adriana looked pale and exhausted. “What do I tell the cops?” “Tell them you helped me put the youngsters to bed, then assisted with the manure disposal before freshening up in my bathroom and heading to bed,” Isabel suggested, trying to sound confident. Given Adriana's illness, her questioning would likely be brief, but Isabel wanted her prepared for anything. “Fine,” Adriana replied, resting her head in her hands. Watching her suffer for defending herself tore at Isabel’s heart. It was tragic that it had come to this; murder was a grave matter, especially the murder of a priest. “Good. I’ll be right here during the questioning. Remember, don’t show any emot
Isabel’s heart plummeted. Had Claire been eavesdropping the whole time? A wave of disbelief and fear rushed through her veins. If Claire had overheard, they’d be left with only two options: silence her or run before she exposed them. “It’s not what you think,” Isabel said, standing quickly, trying to sound calm. Claire raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Because I saw you being quite affectionate with the orphan. Isn't that against the rules?” Isabel’s pulse slowed with a small sigh of relief. Claire hadn’t heard the conversation; she only saw the embrace. “It is, but only between fellow nuns. Not the children. I’ve raised Adriana from when she was just a baby. Sometimes the motherly instincts take over.” Claire rolled her eyes, clearly uninterested. “Right. Well, you’re lucky this time. I swear, if the Mayor funded the police properly, we wouldn’t have to rely on nuns to do our job.” She gave a dismissive wave. “Have a good day.” As the door shut behind Claire, Isabel turned to see A