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CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
VANESSA
Imoped around my bedroom for days after my uncle died, but nothing changed, and eventually, I wanted justice. I felt mentally prepared to face what was to come.
It had always been Luke. I recalled the first time I met him. I wondered if I had noticed how evil he was, and there was no way Ethan would suspect his uncle. I needed to tell him the truth, but I only had a dead man's word against a man who wasvery muchalive. The odds were stacked against us.
I considered only telling Ethan about Luke's plan to murder him, but I knew he wouldn't believe me.
"I needproof," I told myself.
"How did you know?"Luke scowled. "You did an excellent job of concealing your treachery." He threw the empty gun to the ground.
Is he truly surrendering?I pondered, still wary.
"No better than yours," Ethan admitted. He didn't say anything because he didn't need to. But I could tell he was hurt by his uncle's betrayal. He had a soft spot for him. Luke and I both saw the pain.
"You've always been an emotional one, Ethan," Luke observed. "It was easy to trick you into hating Fred all these years." He turned Ethan's gaze to me. "She seemed more sensible, which is why I thought she could pull it off."
Ethan's fists clenched. That's when I realized how much Luke relied on his ability to provoke people. He knew which buttons to press, and he did so.
"And you," he said, extending his right hand to me. "I'm curious how many commands he had to bark at you before you told him. Aren't you his prisoner and slave? You do whatever he says," Luke said, attempting to get inside my head once more and turn me against Ethan. He'd accepted me as the greater threat in the room because I held a loaded weapon.
I burst out laughing. "You think you're incredible, don't you? You're justanasshole."
"Mastermind, please. Give my plans the creditthey deserve. I am the reason you are standing there, and it began before you were born. I planned all of this before your father fucked that bi—"
"Luke!" Ethan's warning was unequivocal. His fists were clenched in a ball, and his voice was loud, sharp, and dangerous.His words echoed in my chest despite the fact that they were not directed at me, and I knew he intended to kill.
Despite the fact that I was standing between them, Ethan'sangry eyes did not see me. They only saw Luke.
"Oh, she should know the truth. Your life is messed up, and you dragged your friend into it. And I'm responsiblefor everything. Vanessa, you no longer have any living relatives. No father, mother, or Uncle Fred." He made a mocking expression. "And I'm to blame for it all. Isn't that the work of a masterm—"
I didn't notice Ethan walk past me. Hesmacked Luke across the face, causing him to stagger backwards. I expected him to fall, but he didn't. His eyes were filled with rage when he looked at us again.
"You got a lot to say for someone who's in such risk of losing everything," Ethan spoke calmly.
"And you have no proof," Luke babbled.
"Oh, we do," I said.
And we did.
It was simple to get out of the compound because no one expected me to be there. My door was unguarded, and no one was looking for me. Without being questioned by the guards, I was able to leave the mansion and go to Uncle Fred's house. Ethan had instructed them to let me leave if I so desired, as he didn't want to keep me against my will any longer.
He'd been alive the last time I was in the room. My eyes welled up with tears, and I did everything I could to blink them away and continue my journey. Uncle Fred had adored me, and that was all I could think about. I entered his room, closing the wooden door behind me with my fingertips. First, I checked the drawers, then the pillow. Then I searched the entire room for thirty minutes without finding anything. It had taken so long because I was taking great care to return everything to where it had come from, and I didn't want to scatter anything.
I eventually gave up. I sat on his bed for a moment, thinking, when it dawned on me:his study! I stepped insideand discovered a large envelope in his third drawer.
I took it out and set it on the table; ithad no label. I opened it with a gulp and looked inside. There were numerous newspaper clippings and other papers, but I chose to focus on the clippings first. There were about a dozen of them, each with a blue ink-circled headline:
Luke Levine, Brother of Wanted Mafia Lord, Arrested on Charges of Rape.
"I know Luke never went to prison," I muttered. I sat back in Uncle Fred's chair, pushing away my sadness once more.
I read the first paper, then the second, and finally the third. But it wasn't until the fourth clipping that I realized what was going on; it made me dizzy and sick.
There was forensic evidence, an alternative to the one given to the papers by the police. My parents' accidentwas not my father's fault. Someone had messed with thehood of the car. That personturned out to be Luke Levine. He, not God or chance, had orchestrated my parents' deaths.
"All these years, I had wondered why they had been taken from me." I hugged the picture to my chest, and the tears that I had been fighting all day began to fall down my cheeks.
