Semua Bab TIED TO MY FATHER'S MURDERER: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Isabella’s breath caught in her throat, the file shaking slightly in her hands. “Seth?” she whispered, the name a foreign, ugly sound on her tongue. It couldn’t be. Not Seth. He was the one who always made sure she had coffee, who brought her blankets when she forgot one on the chaise. He was kind.Victor’s eyes were cold, hard chips of ice. “The file doesn’t lie, Isabella.”Her gaze dropped to the thick stack of papers. Dates, names, coded exchanges. Her father’s neat handwriting was everywhere, marginal notes, underlined passages. Eleven years. They had been building this for eleven years? A tremor of anger ran through her, cold and sharp. Her father knew, _and he never told her?_“But… why?” she murmured, flipping through pages filled with incriminating details. Purchase orders for weapons that never reached Victor’s warehouses, intelligence reports copied and sent to a dead drop. Each piece of evidence was damning. It wasn’t just a theory; it was a chronicle of betrayal. “Why w

“Four hours. That’s all we have, Victor. We can’t waste a single minute.” Isabella’s voice was sharper than she intended, but the words were out before she could rein them in. The threatening message _‘bring yourself and the necklace to the harbour before midnight in exchange for Delaney’s life’_ — echoed in her head, a constant, chilling refrain.Victor nodded, his jaw tight. “I know, principessa. But we need more than speed right now. We need information. Seth’s our best bet.”Her breath caught. “Seth? Why Seth?”“He asked for you. Insisted, even. And he knows Malik. He was deep in their operations for years. Whatever he wants to tell us, it could be the difference between walking into an ambush blind, or knowing what we’re up against.”The thought of facing Malik again, after so many years, twisted her stomach. It had been thirteen years since Rome. Thirteen years since she last saw her father alive.“Fine,” she conceded, the minutes ticking away like an invisible timer. “But quic

Twenty minutes melted away in a blur of motion.Isabella stripped off the evening gown, traded it for dark jeans, a thick-knit sweater, and sturdy boots. The real emerald necklace, cool and heavy, nestled safely inside a hidden pocket stitched into her jacket’s lining. Around her neck, Victor’s flawless replica gleamed, a twin that would fool anyone at a glance.Victor was already waiting by the car, the engine a low purr in the quiet night. He glanced at her, a flicker of approval in his eyes, then flicked his chin toward the passenger seat. She slipped in, the leather cold against her legs.“Good,” he said, pulling away from the curb with a smooth, almost silent acceleration. “You look ready.”“Always am,” she replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline already humming beneath her skin.He navigated the city streets, the traffic thinning as they headed toward the industrial edge of town. “Operation is simple,” he began, his tone calm, almost casual, as if discussing the weat

“The river remembers,” Kevin repeated, his voice low, almost a whisper against the clamor of the harbor.Victor’s breath hitched. The world seemed to tilt, the concrete beneath his feet swaying. It was a phrase, a personal philosophy really, that only one man had ever uttered in his presence. Felix Hart. His godfather. The man he had loved and respected more than anyone, taken from him too soon. He stared at Kevin, his mind racing, scrambling to connect the impossible.“What did you just say?” he demanded, his voice rough, unfamiliar even to his own ears. A cold dread seeped into his veins, twisting his gut.Kevin met his gaze, his eyes shadowed with an old sorrow he hadn’t noticed before. “The river remembers. That’s what he told me.”“Who?” Victor pressed, leaning closer, his instincts screaming. “Who told you that?”“Felix,” Kevin replied, the name a ghost on his lips. “Felix Hart.”Victor’s jaw clenched. His hands, still stained with Seth’s blood, balled into fists. “How on eart

The final word of Malik’s rasping voice died, echoing in the terrible silence of the room. It hung there, a thick, suffocating blanket that pressed down on Isabella’s chest. Kevin’s finger hovered over the laptop, ready to shut it off, to make the nightmare disappear. But she stopped him.“Play it again,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, yet it cut through the heavy air.Victor’s head snapped towards her, his eyes sharp, questioning. Seth just stared, his face a mask of disbelief. Kevin hesitated for a moment, then, without a word, clicked ‘play.’ Malik’s voice filled the room once more, the forced calm, the underlying threat, the… promise.This time, she didn’t listen to the words, not really. She listened to what was _between_ them. The cadence, the subtle waver that wasn’t fear, but something closer to… obligation. It was a faint tremor beneath the layer of bravado. Her father. Felix. He had a way of squeezing promises out of people, even people who had no intention of kee