Chapter 3 - Confessions in the DarkRosa backed up until her spine hit the cold stone wall of the cellar. The phone slipped from her trembling fingers, shattering against the concrete floor.
"Lorenzo," she whispered, her maternal facade completely stripped away, revealing a desperate, cornered woman. "I can explain. You don't understand what they were holding over me—"
"Who?" Lorenzo asked, closing the distance between them with terrifying calm.
"Your uncle, Marcus," Rosa sobbed, sliding down the wall in defeat. "He knew about my brother’s gambling debts in the city. He said if I didn't help Dr. Crane administer the slow-release paralytic to Nico, they would take everything my family owned... and then they would kill us both."
I stepped out from behind the pillar, watching her closely. "Marcus Bellaro. Your own uncle," I said, looking at Lorenzo.
Lorenzo’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek. Marcus had been the one pushing hardest at the syndicate board meetings to declare Nico’s health too frail for the family succession, positioning himself as the rightful interim head of the estate.
"He used you," Lorenzo said to Rosa, his voice devoid of pity. "And you traded my son’s life to save your own skin."
"I never wanted him to die!" Rosa cried, covering her face. "Crane swore it would only keep him weak enough to look sickly, just enough to force you to hand over the proxy signatures for the shipping docks!"
Lorenzo looked down at her with absolute disgust. "You’re done, Rosa. Security will take you to the holding room with Crane. If you want to see the light of day again, you’re going to sign a full confession detailing every dollar Marcus paid you."
As two armed guards materialized from the corridor to escort Rosa away, Lorenzo turned to me, running a hand over his face. The weight of betrayal by his own blood seemed to age him ten years in a single moment.
"My uncle thinks he’s already won," Lorenzo muttered. "He’s hosting a syndicate gala tomorrow night at the grand hotel downtown. He planned to announce a vote of no confidence against me, citing my son's 'tragic failing health' as proof I'm unfit to lead."
"Then we’re going to his party," I said quietly.
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Lorenzo looked up, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. "It’s dangerous, Maya. Marcus has half the underground militia guarding that hotel."
"I didn't spend five years in a NICU watching tiny fighters beat impossible odds just to let a corporate gangster steal a baby's future," I replied firmly. "We have the confession. We have the bottle caps. We have Dr. Crane ready to flip. Let's go ruin your uncle's evening."
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