Fourty Seven

Chapter 47

Maria walked toward her room with slow yet cautious steps. The creak of the wooden floor beneath her feet echoed loudly in the stillness of the night. Cassandra followed closely behind, her eyes keenly observing Maria's every move. The tension between them seemed to suffocate the air.

Maria stopped in front of an old cabinet that looked sturdy but worn. Carefully, she opened one of the drawers and took out a small mahogany box. The box appeared dusty but well-preserved. Maria carried it to the bed and sat on its edge.

"What is that?" Cassandra asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Maria didn’t answer immediately. She opened the box slowly, as if afraid that whatever was inside would break if handled carelessly. Inside was a stack of old photographs, their edges yellowed with age. Maria picked up one photo and stared at it with a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow.

Cassandra, now standing near Maria, glanced at the photo. The image showed a group of men smiling widely at the camera. Among them was Antonio, looking young and confident, and Michael Foster, who had his arm around another man. But what caught Cassandra’s attention the most was the figure on the far right of the photo—Marvin. Her father.

“This… Marvin,” Cassandra murmured, her voice barely audible.

Maria turned quickly, her eyes widening. “You know him?” she asked, her tone a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Cassandra was silent for a moment, pretending not to hear. She looked at the photo more closely, ensuring her eyes hadn’t deceived her. There was no doubt—it was her father, standing alongside Antonio, Cale, Michael Foster, and several other men she didn’t recognize.

Maria returned the photo to the box. “Marvin was one of their colleagues,” she said quietly. “He was involved in Silver Bloom Enterprises’ projects alongside Antonio and the others.”

“What happened to him?” Cassandra finally asked, her voice firm yet full of emotion.

Maria let out a deep sigh. “Marvin… he was a good man. Too good for a dark world like this. I’m certain Antonio killed him and his wife. They were never truly compatible with this game.”

Cassandra held her breath. Maria’s words felt like knives stabbing her heart. But she chose to stay silent, refraining from revealing that Marvin and Anna were her parents. If Maria knew, it would only complicate things further.

“Why do you think Antonio killed them?” Cassandra tried to steer the conversation, though her voice trembled slightly.

“Because that’s what he does,” Maria replied bitterly. “Anyone who tries to oppose him, shows signs of weakness, or attempts to leave the circle is eliminated. Antonio never lets anyone go so easily.”

Cassandra nodded slowly, processing the information. She felt as though the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, but the bigger picture remained unclear. One thing she knew for sure was that Antonio was far more dangerous than she had ever imagined.

“Maria,” Cassandra said softly, summoning the courage to ask further, “why do you keep these photos? If Antonio finds out…”

Maria let out a small, humorless laugh. “These photos are the only reminders of my old life, before everything fell apart. And if Antonio wants to kill me because of them, so be it. I’m tired of living in fear.”

Cassandra didn’t know what to say. She could only look at Maria with newfound respect. Despite the mistakes the woman had made, she was also a victim, just like everyone else.

Maria closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to gather strength. “Cassandra, I know you’re investigating Antonio. But be careful. He won’t stop just because you’re trying to uncover the truth. If you’re not ready, he’ll destroy you like he did the others.”

Cassandra clenched her fists. “I won’t let that happen,” she said firmly. “I’ll take him down, no matter what it takes.”

Maria opened her eyes, looking at Cassandra with an expression that was hard to decipher. There was something in her gaze—perhaps hope, perhaps fear. “If you’re truly serious, there’s something you need to know. Antonio has a weakness, but it’s hidden very well. You need to find the person who knows all his secrets.”

“Who?” Cassandra asked quickly.

Maria shook her head. “I don’t know his name. But he’s always in Antonio’s shadow. He’s like Antonio’s right hand, but also his overseer. If you can find him, maybe he can help you.”

Cassandra filed that information away in her mind. It was a small clue, but better than nothing. She knew the road ahead would be difficult, but she had no other choice. This wasn’t just about justice for Marvin and Anna—it was about stopping Antonio before he destroyed more lives.

When Cassandra left Maria’s room, she took the small box with her—with Maria’s permission. She knew the photos might hold the key to uncovering deeper secrets. However, she also knew she had to be careful. One wrong move, and she could be the next victim of Antonio’s deadly game.

Maria continued, “I know Antonio is a monster. But he’s far more dangerous than you think. If you want justice, you must be ready to lose everything.”

Cassandra nodded silently, choosing to hide her identity for now. She glanced at Maria one last time before bidding farewell, taking the box as potential evidence. That night felt colder than usual as she stepped out of Maria’s house.

Cassandra sat quietly in her car, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. Through the windshield, she could see Maria standing at the doorway, looking at her with an expression full of unease. Their eyes met briefly, sharing the same emotions—fear, anxiety, and perhaps, a sliver of hope.

But Cassandra didn’t linger. She started the engine, gave Maria a slight nod, and drove away from the house.

The deserted streets stretched endlessly in the night. Cassandra drove through the empty roads, her mind racing with endless possibilities. What was really going on? How was everything connected? Was Marvin truly entangled so deeply with Antonio and his group?

Her thoughts wandered until suddenly, a loud horn blared in her ears. She turned her head, only to see a massive truck speeding toward her. There was no time to react.

A violent crash ensued, slamming into the side of Cassandra’s car with deafening force. Everything turned dark. Her head struck the headrest, rendering her unconscious immediately. Her car was pushed to the roadside, leaving behind a trail of shattered glass and twisted metal. The street fell silent once more, accompanied only by the faint sound of the truck’s engine fading into the distance.