CHAPTER TWELVE
(David’s POV)
David’s hands shook as he opened Reynolds‘ latest report. Late aftermoon sun slanted through his study windows, catching dust motes that danced around the
thick manila envelope.
The first photo showed Aria and Marcus at the Carlyle Hotel Three months ago. His father’s hand on her Inwer back, to intimate for comfort
More photos spilled out: secret meetings, lingering touches, stolen glances at charity events. Each image cared another piece from David’s heart.
Bank statements revealed a pattern of transfers from Marcus’s private account to a shell company that traced back to Aria Hotel receipts. Jewelry purchases. A paper trail of betrayal.
Daviddrained his sentch, barely tasting the aged liquor. The sharp born in his thoat couldn’t match the acid churning in his stomach
Text message transcripts painted an even uglier picture. Arla, masterfully playing the reluctant lover. Marcus, growing increasingly obsessed. A carefully orchestrated dance that made David’s head spin.
He found Marcus in his home office, backlit by the setting som His father’s silhouette looked larger than life against the wall of windows, just as it had throughout
“Going over the quarterly reports?” David’s voice sounded strange to his own ears.
Marus didn’t look up from his laptop. “What do you need, David?”
David dropped the envelope on bis father’s desk Plintographs scattered across financial spreadsheets like tallen leaves.
Marwent still, “I can explain.”
“Explain what?” David’s laugh felt like broken glass in his throat. “How long you’ve been fucking my funcie ?”
“Watch your tone.” Marcus stood, his chair rolling back to hit the wall. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Don’t1?” David snatched up a photo of them entering the Carlyle “When did it start? Before or after Sofia’s death?
A muscle twitched in Mantas’s jaw. “You’re confused. Aria has been dealing with some financial difficulties-
“Stop lying!” David slammed his hand on the desk Acrystal paperweight toppled, catching the dying sunlight. “I have everything. The hotels, the money, the
“You had her followed?” Marcus’s voice dropped dangerously low
“Like you haven’t?” David rifled through the papers. “Your security team has been tracking her for months.”
“To protect her.”
“From what? Your conscience?”
Marcus circled the desk, his presence filling the room like smoke. “You need to calm down.”
“Calm down?” David’s voice cracked. “You’re sleeping with my fiancée!”
“It’s not what you think Marcus reached for the photos, but David snatched them away.
“Then what is it? Please, enlighten me about how you’re not betraying your own son!”
“You betrayed yourself! Marcus’s composure cracked, “Did you think I didn’t know about Sofia?”
The name hit David like a physical blow “Leave her out of this.”
“Why? Because she’s dead? Because you couldn’t protect her?”
“At least I loved her!” The words exploded from David’s chest. “What’s your excuse with Aria? Another trophy to add to your collection?
Marcus’s hand shot out, gripping David’s collar. “You have no right —”
“Norge? David knocked his father’s hand away. “I have every right! You raised me to believe in loyalty, in family, while you
“While I what?” Maccus’s voler could huve frozen hell. “Built an empire? Gave you everything?
“Everything except hosty!” David yanked open his father’s desk drawer, searching for more evidence.
Old photographs spilled out instead. David froze, his anger stuttering like a flame in the wind.
A younger Marcus smiled up from glossy paper, his arm around a woman with Aria’s elegant features and dark eyes. The date stamp read twenty–five years ago. “Whe. “David’s throat closed around the question.
Marcus fiatched the photo away, but not before David saw the woman’s name scrawled on the back: Isabella Martinelli.
“Aria’s mother,” David whispered. The room tilted sideways. “You low her mother?”
Marcus’s face had gone the color of old paper. “That’s one of your concent.”
“None of my — David stumbled back, his legs hitting a chair “Did you know? When brought Aria home, did you know who she washi
David- H
“Answer me!”
Marcus’s silence filled the room like polsongas.
CHAPTER TWELVE =
1 god.” David pressed his palms against his eyes. “This whole time… What happened with her mother?”
“Isabella was a mistake.” Marcus’s voice had aged twenty years. “One I won’t discuss with you.”
“Does Aria know?”
Something flickered across Marcus’s face. Fear? Guilt? “Leave it alone, David.”
Like hell David gathered the scattered photos–new and old. “I’m going to find out what really happened,”
“You’ll destroy this family.”
David paused at the door, looking back at the man who’d shaped his entire life. “You already did that, Dad. I’m just documenting the wreckage.”
He left Marcus standing in his darkening office, surrounded by the ghosts of two generations of betrayal.
In the hallway, David heard the distinct click of heels on marble. Aria’s perfume lingered in the air, a reminder that somewhere in this mansion, she was orchestrating her own movements in their twisted game.
The photo of Isabella burned in his pocket. He needed answers, needed to understand how his life had become this tangled web of lies and longing Sofia’s death, his father’s obsession with Aria, Isabella’s connection to their family–somewhere in this maze of deception lay the truth
David headed for his study, his mind already mapping out next steps. He had a new mystery to investigate, one that stretched back decades before Sofla ever picked up her violin.
Behind him, Marcus’s office door remained closed, holding its secrets like
