All Chapters of Scars of Silence(MxM): Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The von Heinrich case settled into our lives like a new, demanding roommate. The files took over half the study desk. Our conversations at breakfast shifted from the weather to theories about Swiss bank accounts and paternity laws. Alessia mostly listened, her eyes flicking between us, watching this other part of her father’s life unfold.Matteo’s report on the old Rossi-von Heinrich deal came back quickly. It was dry and boring: a joint investment in a shipping route in 1992, profitable, dissolved amicably two years later. No drama. No hidden clauses. Just business.“See?” I said, pointing at the report. “Coincidence.”Lorenzo wasn’t convinced. He tapped the page. “My father doesn’t do ‘just business’. There’s always an angle. A debt. A favor owed. Something that doesn’t show up on paper.”“Maybe the angle is you. Now. This case, us getting involved, might be the point.”He didn’t like that thought either. The bond hummed with a constant, low-level alertness whenever he thought about

The morning after the gala felt like the quiet after a distant thunderclap. The air in the apartment was still, but charged. Alessia made coffee, shooting us curious glances over her mug. She could feel the tension, even if she didn’t know the cause.Lorenzo was quiet, his movements precise, his focus turned inward. The bond hummed with a low, simmering intensity. It wasn’t the sharp anger of last night, but a cold, watchful energy. He was thinking, planning, assessing the threat. I’d seen this look on him before. It was the look that came before a tactical strike.We went to the study. The von Heinrich files were still spread out, but a new target had been added to the board in Lorenzo’s mind: Sebastian.“We need to get ahead of this,” he said, his voice flat. He opened a secure browser. “Matteo already has a preliminary file on Sebastian von Heinrich. Standard rich kid stuff. Elite schools, a few minor scandals, a failed tech startup. But there’s a pattern. He’s competitive. Vicious

The plan went into motion. It was like playing a game of chess where half the pieces were invisible, and the other half might turn on you at any moment. We fed carefully crafted information to the von Heinrich family board, through Katerina, pointing the blame squarely at Klaus. The evidence was solid, if circumstantial. The fake paternity claims, the money trails leading to his known associates, his clear motive.At the same time, we let a small, seemingly unimportant detail slip through a back channel we knew would reach Lawyer Weber—and by extension, Lorenzo’s father. The detail was that Katerina was considering a quiet, out-of-court settlement with one of the “phantom children” to avoid further scandal. It was a lie. But it was the kind of lie a man like Lorenzo’s father would believe: a rich widow choosing the easy, cowardly way out.The goal was to make him overconfident. To make him think his plan to create chaos was working perfectly, that Katerina was weak, and that we were j

Lorenzo was in Alessia’s room for almost an hour. I stayed in the living room, my mind racing. The initial shock was hardening into a cold, clear plan. We needed information. We needed leverage. We needed to find the cracks in the fortress Lorenzo’s father and Katerina had built around themselves.By the time Lorenzo came out, he looked different. The blind rage was gone, replaced by a grim, focused exhaustion. He looked older. The lines on his face seemed deeper in the low light. He walked to the sofa and sank into it, resting his head in his hands.“How is she?” I asked quietly, sitting beside him.“Scared. Angry. Confused.” He rubbed his face. “She feels used. And stupid. She kept saying, ‘I should have known, I should have just walked away.’ I told her it wasn’t her fault. That he’s a master manipulator, and he used the one thing he knew would work: her love for her grandfather, or the ghost of it.” He looked at me, his eyes shadowed. “She asked if we were in danger. I told her th

The drive back to Geneva was a journey into a silent, frozen hell. Lorenzo stared out the window, his face a granite mask. The bond between us was a strange, hollow echo. Usually, I could feel the storm of his emotions. Now, there was only a terrible, cold stillness. It was more frightening than any rage.I didn't try to fill the silence with words. What could I say? 'I'm sorry' felt meaningless. The truth we'd uncovered was a monster that ate words, that ate comfort, that ate everything in its path. So I drove, and I held his hand, and I let the silence wrap around us like a shroud.We got back to the apartment late. Alessia was waiting up, curled on the sofa with a book. She took one look at her father's face and the book slipped from her fingers. "Papa? What happened?"Lorenzo looked at her, and for a second, the mask cracked. I saw the raw, unbearable pain in his eyes. Then it was gone, sealed away behind a wall of ice. "Go to bed, Alessia.""Papa, tell me. What's wrong?""It's no