Jaxon Moretti

Cattleya's POV 

ROME, ITALY

I couldn't help but wipe my tears with my bare hand. 

Then my driver slid open the van's door and said, "My condolences, Ms. Cattleya." 

I bit my lower lip and walked down the aisle with a heavy heart, and as I looked around, everyone was dressed in black; I couldn't believe that it was really my twin sister's funeral. 

But being here with relatives I barely know makes me feel suffocated. Whispers and forced sympathies fill the air, and each person gets on my nerves that I want them to be kicked away from my twin sister’s funeral, so they can have a place for their gossip. 

I stare at Ariella’s smiling photos in the center and then I glance down at the closed casket, a heavy oak barrier that will separate me from my sister forever. 

“Ariella…” I said trying to stop myself from breaking down.

 “Catt…” My mom walked towards me and I hugged her tightly, bursting into tears. 

She sobbed softly, "It was all my fault." 

"Mom, it's not your fault." I said, and asked, "Where's Dad?"

 "He's not here." she said while wiping her tears, "He's blaming himself for what happened to Ariella." 

"Oh..." that's all I can say while heavily crying. 

As the ceremony winds down, several of my twin sister's relatives and friends offer their condolences, but their questions about her cause of death remain unanswered. 

Some people even said, "She was shot in the chest." 

"What? Someone killed her on purpose?"

 "I'm not sure, it might have been." the other lady said. 

"Yes, three bullets were found in her room," the other person said. 

My cousin, who was dressed in red, smirked happily in the corner. 

She said, "I bet Ariella did something really crazy to get away. I heard her relationship was crumbling. No wonder she wanted to die and now, she's dead. A pity." 

I walked towards my cousin and glared at her angrily. "What the hell did you just say? You can’t talk about my sister like that! She’s dead, and you’re disrespecting her!" 

Analia rolled her eyes and put down her glass of wine. "Well, I don’t care if she's dead. She’s still the woman who tried to seduce my husband! No, scratch that; she was his mistress! I saw them together!" I scoffed in disbelief. 

"Shut up, Analia! How can you say such things here? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?" Everyone in the ceremony was watching us. 

Analia laughed loudly. "I don’t care about her! I don’t care anymore! My husband left me, I’m alone now. Well, good thing Ariella’s death makes me feel like a winner!"

 I slapped her face in front of everyone and splashed the glass of wine on her. 

"Get out of here! You have no proof of my sister’s affair with your husband! Leave, or do you want me to drag you out?!" 

Analia scoffed, "Really? How can you act sane when your sister is the drama queen in this family?" I slapped her again, and just as she was about to slap me back, I grabbed her hand and glared at her, saying, "If you don't know anything about her life, please stop talking. Can you just please shut your mouth?"

 She sneered, "Or what? You're going to call the police to arrest me?"

 "No, but you won't be happy with the consequences," I said with a smile. "How about taking everything that belongs to you? That would be enough to silence your mouth, yeah?"

 She pursed her lips and screamed at me, "This isn't over yet!" 

The guards came and dragged Analia out, still arguing. My anger was building. 

My mother was crying in the corner, unable to bear the humiliation. 

Then I walked outside and saw my driver waiting for me, “Take me to Ariella’s condo.” 

**** 

As I stepped into Ariella's condo, I was immediately struck by the chaos that seemed to echo my twin sister's personality. 

Her clothes were strewn across the floor, tissues littered every surface, and her desk was a jumble of papers and a coffee mug that still held a half-drunk cup of coffee. 

Everything felt so sad that I couldn't even look at our lovely photos beside her side table. 

I softly sighed and closed my eyes, "What happened to you?" 

While opening her drawer, I found a nightclub flier featuring a skull and a graphic depicting blood. I let out a gasp when I read the club's name and slowly dropped it on the floor. 

The worn paragraph of her with all her friends caught my eye, but I was anxious since behind them was a man whose face I didn't recognize. 

He has sharp features, and a cold glint in his eyes that exudes danger. 

I want to know him, maybe he was one of my sister’s boyfriends or a fling.

 I need to find this man. 

With a sense of urgency, I unlocked my phone and dialed my personal assistant. "I need a private investigator, now!" 

"Right now, Ms. Cattleya?" she asked with some doubt. 

"Yes," I said, ending the call as I looked at the picture. 

Then I sat down at my desk to look up the nightclub name on my twin sister's laptop, but I couldn't find it. Right after that, my assistant texted me the private investigator's address. My chauffeur took me to the private detective's workplace. 

The moment I walked up to his door, he said gruffly, "Come in." 

"I have a job for you," I said, staring him directly in the eyes. 

“I’m Lew Maxwell. Nice to meet you—” 

Then I opened my purse, took the worn out photograph and put it on his desk saying, “I want you to find this man.” 

“Ms. Sullivan, you've come to the right place." He stood up with a smile on his face, then clicked his tongue as he added, "But some stories are better left buried." 

"What did you just say to me?” 

He picked up the photograph and stared at it for a minute, then said, “Jaxon Moretti.” 

“You knew him?” My heart throbbed in surprise as I looked at him in confusion. 

He nods his head, “I do. But Jaxon Mor

etti is no ordinary man, Ms. Sullivan.” 

"What kind of a man is he, detective?" 

"He's the devil himself..."