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I moved closer, my strong hands enveloping hers in a comforting gesture. I could feel her trembling. Taking a deep breath, I began.
"The deaths of your parents, Sophia," I started, my voice gentle yet laden with the weight of the truth, "they were not planned, but at the same time, it was planned. It was a mix-up."
I watched as her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "A mix-up?" she repeated, trying to wrap her head around the idea. "What do you mean?"
I continued to hold her hands, my eyes never leaving hers. "The person originally intended to be the target had sold his car, the car your parents were driving that fateful day. It was a case of mistaken identity, Sophia."
She blinked, her expression shifting from disbelief to sorrow. "My parents... it was all a mistake?" she whispered, her voice quivering.
I watched her struggle to process the truth, wishing I could bear her pain instead. She opened her mouth to form the next question, the word hanging heavy on her lips.
"Who..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.
I moved closer to her, concern etched across my features. "Sophia, are you okay?" I asked, my voice filled with worry.
She repeated her question, a bit louder this time, her desperation growing. "Who’s behind their deaths?"
I sighed, resigned to share the painful truth. I met her gaze with a heavy heart.
“Francisco.”
Chapter 37
Sophia
I sat on the edge of my bed, my gaze locked onto the wall before me. Matteo's words reverberated in my mind, a never-ending loop I couldn't escape.
The truth he had just revealed about my parents' deaths left me in disbelief.
My fingers absentmindedly traced the wallpaper patterns as my thoughts swirled in a chaotic maelstrom.
My parents had been taken from me due to a mistake. A mix-up. It was a truth that I couldn't fully comprehend.
I couldn't wrap my head around my parents having met their end because of a blunder.
A sense of disbelief washed over me. Weren't the mafia supposed to be meticulous and thorough in everything they did?
How could such a grave mistake happen in their world? Why did it have to lead to my parents' death?
I couldn't cry. My tears had disappeared as if they had abandoned me. All I could do was stare blankly, my mind a whirlwind of questions without answers.
After Matteo had spoken Francisco's name, I had stood up abruptly, with a deep need to distance myself from the overwhelming reality.
Matteo had reached out, his presence a source of comfort, but I had to ask for space.
"Please, Matteo," I had requested, my voice trembling with mixed emotions. "I need some time alone."
Since then, I have been secluded in my room. My numbness slowly transformed into insuppressible anger.
I couldn't believe it. How could Francisco be so ruthless, ruining lives without a second thought? I struggled to accept this bewildering truth.
The sound of the door opening caught my attention, but I refused to turn and look.
As someone sat beside me, causing the bed to dip, I felt Matteo's presence without needing to see him. He spoke, his voice filled with determination.
"Sophia," he said gently, "I promise you, I'll make sure Francisco pays for this. He won't escape the consequences of his actions."
His words eased some of my anger, and I could sense his sincerity in the way he spoke.
