One Hundred Thirteen

New York –

The City Rising from Darkness Weeks after the downfall of Leonardo’s Mafia, New York was finally beginning to rise from the ruins of chaos. Citizens who had once fled returned to the city, trying to rebuild the lives they had left behind. Destroyed offices were being renovated, businesses were reopening, and the once bloodstained streets were now filled with pedestrians again. The media headlines painted a narrative of victory.

"NYPD Successfully Fights Crime and Restores Peace!"

"Leonardo and His Criminal Empire Crumble – New York is Safe Again!"

On television screens, Police Commissioner O’Connor was seen smiling triumphantly as he accepted an award from the Mayor of New York. Meanwhile, in one of the skyscrapers overlooking the entire city, Antonio Franches sat leisurely on the balcony of his mansion. He gazed at the city he had saved, but there were no awards for him. No speeches, no medals. That’s just how the world worked. Marcus arrived with a bottle of whiskey, pouring two glasses and handing one to Antonio.

"Funny, isn’t it?"

Marcus said, leaning against the balcony railing.

"They don’t even know who really saved this city."

Antonio took the glass, sipping his drink slowly before giving a faint smirk.

"That’s how the world works,"

he muttered.

"They only remember what they see on the surface."

Marcus let out a small chuckle.

"And we remain in the shadows?"

Antonio raised an eyebrow, staring at the city once more.

"Always."

Inside the mansion, Cassandra walked along the corridor, her expression far calmer than it had been weeks ago. Once, she had seen this place as a den of demons, a lair of crime. But now… It felt like home. Not because of its luxury, not because of the protection it offered her. But because Antonio was here. Outside on the balcony, she saw Antonio still talking with Marcus. A small smile played on her lips as she approached.

"What are you two talking about?"

she asked casually. Antonio turned, his dark eyes locking onto hers in a way that made Cassandra’s heart race.

"We were talking about how the world forgets who really saved them."

Cassandra smirked, stepping closer and touching her fingers to his hand.

"The world may forget you, Antonio. But I never will."

Antonio studied her for a moment, then, without hesitation, pulled her into his embrace, burying his face into her neck.

"I don’t care about the world, Cassandra. I only care about you."

Cassandra smiled, sinking into his warmth. But from a distance, someone was watching them with silent pain. Alexander. From inside his car parked outside the mansion, Alexander observed the scene unfold. His grip tightened around the steering wheel, struggling to contain the storm of emotions inside him. Once, Cassandra had been a part of his life. Once, he could reach for her hand, kiss her lips, protect her from anything. But now… He was just a spectator in someone else’s love story.

"I loved you first, Cass,"

he whispered to himself.

"So why couldn’t I be the one you chose?"

Back inside the mansion, Antonio looked at Cassandra, his gaze burning with desire.

"I want more than just this,"

he whispered. Cassandra smirked teasingly.

"Take me, Antonio. I’m yours."

Antonio didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped Cassandra into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom without breaking their gaze. As the door closed, the only sounds left were sighs, whispers, and the uncontainable hunger between them. That night, Cassandra didn’t just surrender her body to Antonio—she gave him her entire heart. Back inside the mansion, Antonio looked at Cassandra, his gaze burning with desire.

"I want more than just this,"

he whispered. Cassandra smirked teasingly.

"Take me, Antonio. I’m yours."

Antonio didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped Cassandra into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom without breaking their gaze. The moment the door closed, only sighs, whispers, and an uncontainable hunger filled the space between them. That night, Cassandra didn’t just surrender her body to Antonio—she gave him her entire heart. The spring air in New York was fresh, a soft breeze flowing through the city park. People were slowly reclaiming their lives, strolling down streets that had once been soaked in blood, as if a war had never raged beneath the surface of this city. Among the crowd, Antonio and Cassandra walked side by side, their hands tightly clasped. Antonio, dressed casually in a black shirt with his sleeves slightly rolled up, still carried an intimidating presence. Meanwhile, Cassandra wore a simple dress, her expression far softer than before. With Antonio, she felt at peace. As they walked through the park, Antonio pulled Cassandra closer and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Cassandra closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the warmth of his touch to seep into her heart. She smiled. This wasn’t the first time Antonio had shown affection in public, but this time felt different.

This time, Cassandra no longer fought it. From a distance, Alexander stood with clenched fists in the pockets of his suit, watching them from across the park. His heart tightened, as if everything he had fought for over the years was crumbling right before his eyes. Antonio wasn’t just his enemy in the underworld. He had taken the one thing Alexander cherished most—Cassandra. Alexander’s eyes darkened as he watched Cassandra smile at Antonio, the way she used to smile only for him. In his heart, he murmured,

"I loved her long before Antonio… But why wasn’t I the one she chose?"

He lowered his head, realizing how foolish it was to still hold onto hope.

"Do I still have a chance?"

That question haunted him, but the answer remained the same—no. There was no space. No place left for him in Cassandra’s heart. Unconsciously, his feet moved toward them. Cassandra saw him first, her green eyes widening slightly as they met his gaze. Antonio followed her line of sight and let out an unimpressed scoff as Alexander approached.

"So, the detective finally shows up,"

Antonio muttered, his tone flat but filled with an underlying warning. Cassandra sighed, her gaze settling on Alexander with quiet concern.

"Alex…"

Alexander looked at her, but this time, there was no anger in his eyes. No hatred. Only a deep, aching loss.

"I need to talk to you."

Antonio scoffed, raising an eyebrow with lazy amusement.

"What more do you need to say, detective? Isn’t it obvious who she’s chosen?"

Alexander ignored him, keeping his focus solely on Cassandra. Cassandra swallowed, glancing at Antonio before gently letting go of his hand.

"Wait here,"

she said softly. Antonio studied her for a moment before shrugging, stepping back to give them space. Alexander’s gaze held a storm of emotions as he looked at her.

"Cass…"

he murmured. Cassandra gave him a small, sad smile.

"I know what you’re going to say."

Alexander let out a short, bitter laugh.

"Do you? Because I don’t even know how to say it."

Cassandra looked at him with understanding.

"I’m sorry, Alex."

Alexander’s expression twisted with pain.

"You don’t have to apologize."

He took a deep breath, lifting his shoulders as if trying to steady himself.

"I just need to know one thing…"

Cassandra nodded slightly, giving him the space to speak.

"Did you ever truly love me?"

The question made Cassandra pause. Not because she was unsure, but because she knew the truth would hurt. She exhaled softly, then spoke gently,

"I love you, Alex… but in a different way."

"You were always there for me, someone I respected and cared about."

"But the love you want from me… isn’t the love I can give."

Alexander let out a small laugh, but his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"That’s answer enough."

He looked at her one last time before turning toward Antonio, who still stood a short distance away.

"Take care of her."

Antonio met his gaze without expression, but there was understanding in his eyes.

"I always do."

Cassandra offered a faint smile, even though her heart felt heavy watching Alexander walk away with his own wounds to bear. He left them, finally accepting the reality that Cassandra was no longer his. Perhaps it was true—love didn’t always mean possession. And sometimes, the only thing left to do was to let go.

NYPD Headquarters –

A Different Kind of Day Cassandra had just arrived at her office, trying to go about her day as usual after the chaos of the past few weeks. She took a deep breath, attempting to focus on work, but deep down, she knew her life had changed. There was no longer a clear line between law enforcement and the underworld. She now stood between two opposing worlds. As she walked past her desk, a mail officer approached her.

"Detective Cassandra, there’s a package for you."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised.

"From who?"

she asked. The officer shook his head.

"No sender’s name. Just your name and this office’s address."

Cassandra took the package with a sense of unease. No logos, no postage stamps—just a plain brown box with her name scrawled on top. Her heart began to beat faster. She carried it to her desk, eyeing it warily before finally cutting the seal with a small knife. Her hands slowly lifted the contents—stacks of old, worn documents. A few pages looked like investigative reports… about her parents’ accident. Cassandra felt her blood turn cold. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out one of the documents and began reading. Her eyes widened as she absorbed the words.

"The car accident that year… wasn’t an accident."

"The explosion was caused by explosives planted beneath the victim’s vehicle."

"Suspected involvement: The Silver Thorn Mafia."

"Suspected identity involved: Richard Franches (father of Antonio Franches)."

Cassandra clapped a hand over her mouth, her body beginning to shake. This… this couldn’t be real… Antonio’s mafia… or rather, his father… was involved in her parents’ deaths? Her head pounded, her breath coming in short gasps. She read the pages again, needing to be sure it wasn’t a mistake. But the words were clear. Cassandra clutched the documents tightly, a mix of fear and fury building inside her.

"Why am I only seeing this now?"

She had always believed their deaths were a tragic accident—an unavoidable misfortune. But if this information was true… The Silver Thorn Mafia had played a role in their deaths. And worse… Antonio’s father was the mastermind.

"Does Antonio know about this?"

"Has he been hiding something from me?"

Cassandra frowned. No… Antonio had told her that the accident wasn’t part of their operations. So who was lying? She stared at the empty box, searching for any clue about who had sent the documents. Nothing. No sender. No trace. Just a message leading her to a horrifying truth. Someone out there wanted her to know.

But why now? What was their motive? And more importantly… What was she supposed to do with this information?

That night, Cassandra paced back and forth inside her bedroom at Antonio’s mansion. Her hands still clutched the documents she had received at the police station, the words on the pages haunting her. Could this really be the truth?

Had Antonio been lying to her all this time? Her heart pounded as she recalled the details in the report. The Silver Thorn Mafia. Antonio’s father. The accident that wasn’t an accident. No. She needed to hear it from him directly. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage before stepping out of her bedroom. Antonio had to explain this. Now. Antonio was seated in his private study, reviewing documents for a new business venture. The door swung open suddenly, and Cassandra entered with determined strides. Antonio raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her expression.

"Cass?"

he asked, setting down the papers he had been reading. Cassandra didn’t answer. She simply walked to his desk and slammed the documents she carried onto the surface. Antonio glanced at them before returning his gaze to her.

"What is this?"

he asked calmly. Cassandra stared at him, her eyes filled with restrained emotion. "I want to know one thing." Her voice was firm, unwavering.

"Did you kill my parents?"

Silence swallowed the room. Antonio held her gaze for several seconds, his face unreadable. But Cassandra saw something in his eyes—something dark, something heavy. After what felt like an eternity, Antonio finally exhaled deeply.

"What makes you ask that?"

Cassandra inhaled sharply, pushing the documents closer to him.

"I received this today. And it contradicts everything you’ve ever told me."

Antonio looked down at the papers, scanning them page by page. His lips pressed into a tight line. His fists clenched slowly, but his composure remained intact.

"I didn’t kill them, Cassandra."

A strange feeling stirred in her chest—part relief, part unease. But before she could say anything, Antonio continued.

"But I know what happened."

Cassandra froze. Her eyes burned with a mix of anger and betrayal.

"So you knew?"

her voice wavered now.

"And you never told me?"

Antonio’s gaze was cold, but beneath it, she saw something else. Guilt.

"I never lied to you, Cassandra,"

he said, his tone quiet yet sharp.

"I just never told you because I knew it would destroy you."

Cassandra tapped a finger against the documents.

"So it’s true? Your father was behind the accident?"

Antonio closed his eyes briefly before nodding.

"Yes… and no."

Cassandra frowned.

"Explain."

Antonio dragged a rough hand down his face before leaning back in his chair.

"My father did invite your parents to our mansion that night. But I didn’t know their car would explode before they got there."

"That meeting was supposed to be routine. There was no plan to kill them. No trap."

"But something happened. And I don’t even know who ordered the explosion."

Cassandra studied his face. He was telling the truth. Or at least, he believed he was. But… How could the information in these documents contradict what he was saying? Cassandra let out a slow, heavy breath.

"So you really don’t know?"

Antonio shook his head.

"All I know is that after it happened, my father covered everything up. He never spoke about it, never let anyone question it."

"I don’t know if he ordered their deaths himself, or if someone else was pulling the strings."

Cassandra bit her lip. This wasn’t the answer she had expected. But at the same time, it only made her more uncertain. Who was lying? Antonio… or the documents she had received? And more disturbingly… Who had sent her these documents? Antonio studied her closely, then stood from his chair. He walked toward her, cupping her face gently even though he could feel the tension in her body.

"I need you to trust me, Cassandra."

"I love you."

"And I would never hurt you."

Cassandra looked into his eyes, her emotions swirling inside her.

"I want to believe you, Antonio…"

her voice was almost a whisper.

"But too many things don’t make sense."

Antonio traced her lips with his thumb, as if trying to calm her.

"I will help you find the answers. If someone betrayed us, I will find them and end them."

Cassandra nodded, though her heart was still unsure. Outside the mansion, in the darkness, someone watched them from afar, a small smile playing on their lips. Their eyes gleamed with satisfaction. The game had only just begun. Cassandra sat on the sofa in Antonio’s study, her fingers gripping the documents tightly. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of all the possibilities. Was Antonio telling the truth?

Or had she been blind to the truth all along? Across from her, Antonio leaned against his desk, his gaze dark and intense. He didn’t look surprised, but there was something in his expression that Cassandra couldn’t quite read—a weight he had carried for years. After what felt like an eternity, Antonio finally spoke.

"The Silver Thorn Mafia did invite your parents to our mansion."

His voice was calm, but tension laced every word.

"But the accident… was never part of the plan."

Cassandra bit her lip, her heartbeat quickening.

"Then why did they die?"

Antonio exhaled slowly, holding her gaze.

"I don’t know why their car exploded. I only know that they were supposed to arrive for a peaceful meeting."

Cassandra leaned back against the sofa, rubbing her face with her hands.

"So you don’t know who did it?"

Antonio shook his head.

"My father never told me. But after it happened, he ordered all evidence erased. Everyone involved—eliminated."

Cassandra swallowed hard.

"So he covered it up?"

Antonio’s expression hardened.

"Yes."

Cassandra’s heart felt even heavier. She wanted to believe Antonio. But the documents she had received… told a different story. She picked up the page that named Antonio’s father as the mastermind behind her parents’ deaths.

"Then what about this?"

She pushed the document across the table, her gaze filled with emotion. Antonio picked it up, reading it carefully. His face remained unreadable, but his jaw tightened slightly.

"I don’t know who sent this to you."

"But if it’s true…"

He lifted his gaze to Cassandra, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous.

"Then someone out there knows more than I do."

Cassandra swallowed, confusion swirling in her mind.

"So you think this wasn’t your father’s doing?"

Antonio set the document down carefully.

"I don’t know."

His eyes locked onto hers.

"But I promise you, I will find out who really killed them."

Cassandra let out a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions.

"I want to believe you, Antonio."

Antonio moved closer, kneeling in front of her, his hands clasping hers.

"Trust me."

Cassandra searched his eyes, looking for something—honesty, sincerity, or perhaps a hidden lie. But all she found was unwavering devotion.

"If you find anything… you have to tell me."

Antonio nodded, his hand rising to Cassandra’s face, gently caressing her cheek.

"I won’t hide anything from you again."

Cassandra closed her eyes briefly as Antonio brushed his thumb over her lips, then slowly leaned in, capturing her mouth with his. That kiss wasn’t just passion—it was a promise. A promise that he would find the truth. As Cassandra and Antonio lost themselves in the moment, outside the mansion, someone was watching them. From a car parked far beyond the main gate, a figure smirked. They held a phone, rereading a message they had sent hours ago—

"The package has been received. Now let’s see how they react."

On the backseat, another folder lay open, filled with even more documents. A truth far more horrifying, more devastating. But Cassandra wasn’t ready for it. Not yet. The car pulled away slowly, leaving the mansion behind, deepening the mystery even further.