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A mother’s confession.(chapt.16)

Author: Stone
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-03 15:43:55

Alessia's POV.

The atmosphere was thick with tension as I stepped outside into the night, letting the door swing shut behind me. My brain was in a whirl, so it felt like I couldn't breathe. But I knew where I was headed. Now that I was stepping out of there, there was no turning back.

The deafening silence of the night was broken by the shaft of light from my headlights as I drove through the streets. I had no business being out driving at night—my heart was still sore from the betrayal. None of it mattered, though. Not when the details I had been searching for were under the same roof as the person who could be behind all this drama and secrets, and Nikolai Volkov, the genius of the drama and secrets.

I walked up to the De Luca mansion—my childhood home—and it didn't sit well with me. Familiar and warped, like a warped dollhouse. I didn't see it fit to ring the bell. I had my old key.

The door creaked as I pushed it open, the silence greeting me like a specter. I entered the darkened
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  • Twisted vows    A mother’s confession.(chapt.16)

    Alessia's POV.The atmosphere was thick with tension as I stepped outside into the night, letting the door swing shut behind me. My brain was in a whirl, so it felt like I couldn't breathe. But I knew where I was headed. Now that I was stepping out of there, there was no turning back.The deafening silence of the night was broken by the shaft of light from my headlights as I drove through the streets. I had no business being out driving at night—my heart was still sore from the betrayal. None of it mattered, though. Not when the details I had been searching for were under the same roof as the person who could be behind all this drama and secrets, and Nikolai Volkov, the genius of the drama and secrets.I walked up to the De Luca mansion—my childhood home—and it didn't sit well with me. Familiar and warped, like a warped dollhouse. I didn't see it fit to ring the bell. I had my old key.The door creaked as I pushed it open, the silence greeting me like a specter. I entered the darkened

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    Alessia's POV.The moment I swung my door open, the weight of the day descended upon my shoulders like a shattering sky. I let the door close behind me, leaning on it for an extra fraction of a moment. The silence in the room was suffocating, a echo of the chaos whirling inside my mind.I kicked my heels to the side and walked towards the bathroom, discarding the day like cast-off skin. The shower pounded me, steam curling upwards, but nothing could rinse away what clung to my mind. Not today. Not when the past would not remain still.I dried off and wrapped myself in a robe and headed straight to the living room. The warm light of the table lamp cast golden shadows on the mahogany desk, where I had laid out the evidence—photos, logs, call records, handwritten notes from the secret room, and that damned photo of Matteo. I didn't even know if that was his real name anymore.I took the photo of him once more—the one where he was out of focus in the back of a family reunion I never recal

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  • Twisted vows    A game of truth(l) (chapt.11)

    Alessia's POV As I pushed my door wide, the silence wrapped itself around me like a cloak. No quiet in its peace. No safety in its stillness. Only… tension. The sort that makes your skin prickle and constricts your lungs. Sophia hung back behind me, alert eyes scanning all the dark hour could possibly bring, her footsteps tentative as if on glass. I dropped my keys onto the console table next to the door, the clatter too loud, too final. I did not speak a word. I just kicked my heels off and padded deeper into the apartment, scarcely noticing the way my legs moved me towards the sofa. I did not cry. Not yet. I could not. I felt that if I ever parted my lips, the shriek that escaped would never subside. "I'm not leaving you alone tonight," Sophia said, closing the door behind her. Her tone was gentle, but firm only Sophia could be — as if she was holding me together with her mere presence. "I'm fine," I fibbed, folding up my legs on the couch. My own voice was distant — like i

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