Chapter 7 - The Real Target
Vivien’s statement came through her attorney.
She wanted immunity.
Lorenzo refused.
She wanted a deal.
Vincent refused for him.
Then Vivien asked to speak to me alone.
“No,” Lorenzo said immediately.
I stood in his study, staring at the rain against the windows.
“She might say something important.”
“She might manipulate you.”
“She already did.”
His expression tightened.
“That is exactly why you are not going.”
I turned toward him.
“You do not get to decide that for me anymore.”
The room went silent.
Vincent looked between us and wisely stepped outside.
Lorenzo rubbed one hand over his face.
“You’re right.”
I had not expected that.
He looked exhausted.
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he said.
“Then tell me the truth. All of it.”
His eyes met mine.
“The truth is Vivien was never supposed to be near Isabella.”
I waited.
“Her father worked with my family years ago. He died because of choices I made.”
My stomach tightened.
“What choices?”
“Criminal choices.”
At least he did not pretend otherwise.
“Vivien came into my life two years ago. She said she wanted nothing from me except honesty.”
“And you believed her?”
“I wanted to.”
His gaze moved to a photograph on the desk.
A younger Lorenzo holding baby Isabella. His late wife, Elena, stood beside him.
“She knew what I was,” he continued. “But she believed I could become better.”
“What happened to her?”
His face closed.
“Car accident.”
The words were too careful.
“Was it?”
Lorenzo looked at me for a long time.
“No.”
The storm seemed louder after that.
“Elena was killed by people trying to punish me,” he said. “Isabella survived because Elena put her body over hers.”
My breath caught.
“Vivien knew this?”
“Yes.”
“And she still used Isabella?”
His eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
The answer made me understand something terrible.
Vivien had not been jealous of me.
Not really.
She had been jealous of anyone Lorenzo loved enough to become vulnerable.
Me.
Emma.
Isabella.
Maybe even Vincent.
She had wanted to cut every thread holding him to something human.
That night, I went to see Vivien.
Not alone.
Vincent stood outside the interrogation room at the precinct. Two detectives sat behind the observation glass. Lorenzo remained in the hallway, close enough to intervene but far enough to let me choose.
Vivien looked smaller without her diamonds.
But not weaker.
She smiled when I entered.
“Sophia.”
“Why?”
She tilted her head.
“Why what?”
“Why Emma?”
Vivien sighed.
“Because you were useful.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“She is three.”
“And Lorenzo cared.”
“He barely knew us.”
“Oh, he knew you.” Her eyes sharpened. “He noticed when you skipped meals. He knew Emma’s medicine schedule. He watched you with Isabella.”
I felt heat rise in my face.
Vivien smiled cruelly.
“He never looked at me like that.”
“So you tried to ruin a child?”
“I tried to show him what people do when they are desperate.”
“You manufactured desperation.”
“Everyone has a price.”
“No.”
I leaned closer.
“Some people just have a line you cannot cross.”
Her smile faded.
For the first time, she looked uncertain.
I stood.
Then she said, “You think this ends because I’m in here?”
I paused.
“What does that mean?”
“You think I acted alone?”
The detectives moved.
Vincent entered the room.
Vivien laughed softly.
“Ask Lorenzo about the man who killed Elena.”
Lorenzo’s face went white.
Vincent swore under his breath.
“What man?” I demanded.
Vivien’s smile returned.
“His name is Rafael Sanz. And he believes Isabella should have died with her mother.”
The room became airless.
Lorenzo stepped forward.
“Where is he?”
Vivien looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Oh, I’m not.” She leaned back. “But he knows where you live.”
At that exact moment, every light in the precinct went out.
The building dropped into darkness.
A gunshot shattered the silence.
Then another.
Vincent grabbed my arm.
“Down!”
Glass exploded above us.
And somewhere in the dark, I heard Lorenzo say one word.
May you like
“Isabella.”
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