Chapter 7
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“How pathetic and ridiculous you’ve been, Bruno. The person you’ve loved has always been Amara, but you were the only one who didn’t know that. And now that you’ve realized it, it’s already too late. She’ll never, ever come back to you!” Lilah snarled.
Blood–red fury surged in Bruno’s eyes, and the murderous intent that came from being a Don burst out of him without restraint.
As he gripped Lilah’s neck, he said in a hoarse voice, “Amara wouldn’t leave me. With how much she trusts me, there’s no way she’d leave me. As long as I get rid of you and avenge our child, she’ll come back.”
Lilah’s face turned pale from the choking, and she struggled in fear. “Don Zedano!”
The bodyguards rushed in, wanting to stop him, but they didn’t dare approach. “If you kill her, Mrs. Zedano will only suffer more.”
Clarity slowly returned to Bruno’s eyes, and he loosened his grip. “Turn her over to the Aitarian police.”
Lilah, slumped on the floor, started shrieking hysterically, “No! You can’t do this, Bruno! You swore an oath to the family! You said you’d protect me!”
Expressionlessly, Bruno waved his hand in a dismissive motion, and the bodyguards immediately dragged the frantically flailing Lilah away. Silence fell over the Scrician castle.
“Still no word from Mrs. Zedano?”
Hearing a negative answer, Bruno walked into the main bedroom and buried his face deep in my pillows, trying to find any lingering scent of mine. Carefully, he picked up a single fallen strand of my hair and pressed it to his chest. A tear slipped silently down his face.
“Where are you, Amy?”
Bruno lay down on my side of the bed, dazed. It was as if he was reliving the nights we had spent together. He recalled how I would curl up in his arms, and when I gazed up at him, my eye’s would be filled with unwavering trust.
Suddenly, he bolted upright, gasping for air. It felt like a sword had been plunged through his heart, and the pain was so intense that he almost lost the ability to breathe.
He rushed downstairs, wanting to escape the castle that held too many memories.
Every corner was filled with traces of me, and they were like daggers digging deeper into his wounds. It was a kind of pain that was going to tear him to shreds.
Bruno sank onto the marble steps outside the door, completely crushed and lost. He looked like a lifeless statue. It wasn’t until the storm consumed him that his strong, powerful body finally gave out, and everything went dark as he collapsed under the pouring rain, unconscious.
In the meantime, I was in a secluded forensic lab in Nalom.
With practiced ease, I began the reconstruction of the corpse before me -a victim who had been brutally murdered during a shootout between underground families. Sweat slid down beneath my face mask, but my hands remained steady.
Each stitch I made was like continuing my father’s resolve. He had been the most excellent undercover agent, throwing his life into investigating the crimes of the underground families. As for me, I would help each life that had been brutally cut short by the underground families to retain their last shred of dignity by doing restoration work.
For years, I had always wanted to work as a professional forensic examiner, but Bruno had always stopped me in the name of “protecting me“. Thus, this dream had been delayed again and again, and I had never truly worked independently in these past five years.
All these years, I had been living under his control.
But from now onward, I wanted to use my own two hands to mend every battered corpse and document each truth that needed to be restored. For myself and my father, I would continue on this path of seeking justice.
Once I was done with the restoration, I sent photos of the corpse to Globe Pol, an international criminal police organization, hoping that they’d help them solve this shooting case.
“Don Zedano! Our intelligence team has located Mrs. Zedano! A contact spotted her at a forensic lab in Nalom!”
Bruno hurriedly opened the encrypted file, and his heart tightened at the sight of the familiar silhouette. He skimmed through page after page of forensic reports, each one meticulously written and displaying a stunning level of professionalism.
