Chapter 32: “The Truth Has a Face”

Tayla's POV

The woman didn't run.

She didn't hide.

She simply stood across the street, one hand resting on the strap of her handbag, her cream-colored coat swaying gently in the evening breeze.

For several long seconds, the noise of the city faded.

Cars disappeared.

People disappeared.

It felt as though the entire world had narrowed until only two women remained.

Me.

And her.

The woman Michael had called Isabella Salazar.

Victor Salazar's daughter.

The woman who was supposed to have died eight years ago.

She watched me with calm, unreadable eyes before turning toward the corner café.

Not once did she look back.

It wasn't fear.

It was an invitation.

My heart pounded.

Every instinct screamed at me to walk away.

But another voice whispered louder.

This is the woman who knows why Damian sacrificed everything.

I crossed the street.

The café was nearly empty.

Soft jazz floated through hidden speakers, and the smell of roasted coffee beans lingered in the air.

Isabella sat in the far corner with a cup of untouched tea.

She looked up as I approached.

"I was wondering how long it would take."

Her voice was smooth.

Confident.

Nothing like I expected.

"I don't know you."

"You know enough."

She gestured toward the empty chair.

"Sit."

Tayla hesitated before lowering herself into the seat.

For a moment neither woman spoke.

The silence stretched until Isabella finally smiled.

"You look exactly the way Damian described you."

My breath caught.

"You've spoken to Damian?"

"No."

She looked down at her teacup.

"But I know the kind of woman he loved."

The words settled heavily between us.

Loved.

Not loves.

Past tense.

It felt intentional.

"You aren't dead."

The statement escaped before I could stop it.

A faint smile curved Isabella's lips.

"Obviously."

"Then whose funeral did everyone attend?"

Isabella's expression lost every trace of warmth.

"A girl's."

"What girl?"

"Someone who never deserved to die."

The answer chilled me.

Before I could ask another question, the waitress arrived.

Neither of us touched our drinks.

"I've spent eight years hiding," Isabella said quietly.

"From who?"

Her eyes lifted to mine.

"Men who don't forgive loose ends."

Marcus.

Luca.

Or someone even worse?

I couldn't tell.

"You knew Victor."

She laughed softly.

"I was his daughter."

"Were you close?"

Her smile disappeared.

"My father loved power more than people."

The answer came without hesitation.

"He taught me one lesson."

"What lesson?"

"Never trust a smiling man."

For reasons I couldn't explain...

Luca's face flashed through my mind.

"Did Damian kill your father?"

The question hung between us.

Isabella didn't answer immediately.

Instead, she reached into her handbag.

Slowly.

Carefully.

My heartbeat quickened.

She placed an old photograph on the table.

It was faded around the edges.

In it, Damian stood beside a teenage girl.

She couldn't have been older than sixteen.

Both were laughing.

Both looked genuinely happy.

I stared at the girl's face.

Then back at Isabella.

"You..."

She nodded.

"That was the first day we met."

"You knew Damian before the company?"

"For years."

My mind raced.

Nothing made sense anymore.

"You were friends?"

She smiled sadly.

"We were family."

Those two words echoed inside my head.

Family?

How?

Before I could ask, Isabella leaned forward.

"Damian didn't kill my father."

Relief washed over me so suddenly it almost hurt.

"I knew it."

"No."

Her voice sharpened.

"You wanted to believe it."

She wasn't wrong.

Deep inside, I'd never accepted Damian was capable of murder.

"My father was already dying when Damian arrived."

I swallowed.

"Then who—"

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because if I say his name before I'm ready..."

She looked toward the café window.

"...he'll finish what he started."

The fear in her eyes wasn't fake.

It was the kind of fear that lived with someone every single day.

Outside the café...

A black sedan slowed.

Two men remained inside.

Watching.

One lifted a camera.

Click.

Another photograph.

Another report.

The passenger picked up his phone.

"They're together."

A cold voice answered.

"Don't interfere."

"Not yet."

The line went dead.

---

Back inside, Isabella slid a small envelope across the table.

"If anything happens to me..."

Tayla looked at it but didn't touch it.

"What's inside?"

"The beginning of the truth."

"You expect me to keep this?"

"I expect you to survive."

A chill ran through me.

"You're scaring me."

"I should."

She finally took a sip of her tea.

"They've already tried once."

The memory of the alley returned instantly.

The hands.

The van.

The shouting.

"They weren't trying to rob me."

"No."

"They wanted to silence me."

Isabella nodded once.

"They're afraid you're becoming too important."

"I don't understand."

"You will."

She stood.

The conversation was over.

Already?

I rose quickly.

"Wait."

She stopped.

"There has to be more."

"There is."

She looked over her shoulder.

"But every answer has a price."

Then she walked away.

I hurried outside.

The street was crowded again.

People crossed the intersection.

Cars honked impatiently.

But Isabella was gone.

As though she'd vanished into thin air.

Only the envelope remained in my trembling hands.

That night...

Stonegate Federal Prison.

Damian sat on the edge of his narrow bed.

The lights had already been switched off.

Most of the inmates were asleep.

He wasn't.

Sleep had become a stranger years ago.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

A correctional officer stopped outside his cell.

"You've got legal mail."

Damian frowned.

At this hour?

The envelope slid beneath the bars.

No return address.

No name.

His pulse quickened.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

Five handwritten words.

She's finally found Tayla.

Below the sentence...

A pressed white lily had been taped carefully to the page.

Damian's face drained of color.

Only one person had ever used white lilies as a message.

Isabella.

He closed his eyes.

If Isabella had contacted Tayla...

Then the countdown had begun.

And once Marcus discovered it...

No one would be safe anymore.

Not Tayla.

Not Noah.

Not even Luca.

Because some secrets didn't just destroy families.

They buried them.