Chapter 13 - The Devil's Truth
Clara did not back away from the sharp steel blade pressing against her throat.
She looked directly into Adrian's furious eyes, tears of absolute betrayal streaming down her pale cheeks.
"Because I am just as dead as you are," Clara whispered, her voice completely broken.
Adrian kept the knife incredibly steady, his jaw clenched in pure, murderous rage.
"You called a hit squad on me after I trusted you with my life," he snarled painfully through the plastic tube.
"I called my father," Clara sobbed, dropping to her knees on the cold pavement.
"I thought he was hiding in exile, waiting for me to pave the way for our family's return."
Adrian scoffed, a dark, rattling sound that caused fresh blood to bubble around his neck wound.
"Vincenzo Morretti is not in exile, Clara," Adrian revealed coldly, lowering the knife just a fraction of an inch.
Clara looked up at him in desperate confusion.
"What are you talking about?" she begged for the truth.
Adrian leaned against the hood of the car, struggling to remain standing as his adrenaline faded.
"I did not order the massacre of your family six years ago," Adrian stated, his voice laced with venom.
"Your father came to me asking for a truce, but my brother Leo intercepted him."
Clara shook her head, entirely unwilling to believe that her father was the architect of their family's destruction.
"Leo and your father made a secret pact to eliminate the old guard of both our syndicates," Adrian explained smoothly.
"Vincenzo gave Leo the security codes to the Morretti estate so Leo could slaughter your uncles and your loyalists."
Clara felt the entire world spin violently around her as the horrifying puzzle pieces finally snapped together.
Her father had sacrificed his own bloodline to consolidate total power over the surviving syndicate.
"He used me," Clara whispered, staring blankly at her bloody hands.
"He sent me into your mansion as a suicide pawn, knowing I would never survive the assassination attempt."
Adrian slid the tactical knife back into his pocket, his anger slowly shifting into a cold, calculated strategy.
"We were both betrayed by the very people who were supposed to protect us," Adrian said quietly.
He looked over at the unconscious body of his treacherous wife lying on the asphalt.
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"Grab Elena and throw her in the trunk," Adrian ordered, his eyes turning dead and merciless.
"We are going to make them bleed."
