Catching a liar

Chapter 5

Marcello's pov 

"Mr Marcello," the lawyer called as I stepped outside of the hospital room.

"I need the signed papers," He said and I stared down at the marriage certificate clenched tightly in my hands.

"What do you need it for?" I asked gruffly.

The lawyer adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "I need to file it with the court to ensure its legal recognition. The sooner we finalize everything, the better."

I tightened my grip on the paper, my jaw clenching. 

"Are you having second thoughts, Mr. Marcello?" the lawyer asked, his voice neutral but observant.

I exhaled sharply, my gaze drifting toward the hospital room door. Inside, she was still unconscious, unaware of the choices being made around her.

Second thoughts? No. Regrets? Never I just need to make sure whoever put her in that state pays for it.

I finally met the lawyer’s gaze. "Give me a moment."

"I need you to make sure that every single thing about it is carefully documented, every single place. Put the protection barrier over her and give her access to everything owned by the Marcello's," I said and he darted a bewildered look at me.

"Are you sure that you want..."

"I don't pay you to ask questions, have the clandestine guards follow her everywhere she happens to go," I ordered and he nodded with a bow. 

"Understood, Mr. Marcello. I’ll see to it immediately," the lawyer replied, his voice steady despite the evident surprise in his eyes.

I handed him the papers, watching as he carefully placed them inside his briefcase. My mind was already elsewhere. I turned back toward the hospital room, staring through the glass window at her frail form lying motionless on the bed.

Whoever did this to her made a grave mistake.

I took a slow breath, my hands curling into fists at my sides. This wasn’t just about ensuring her protection—this was about retribution. I would burn down the world before I let anyone hurt what was mine again.

The lawyer cleared his throat. "I’ll ensure everything is processed by the end of the day."

"Good." My voice was cold, final. "And one more thing—find out who was responsible for this. I want names."

The lawyer hesitated before nodding. "I’ll see what I can do."

"I don't need you to see I need results, I don't pay you for nothing," I replied gruffly, running a hand through my hair with an exasperated sigh.

"Find out everyone she has been in close contact with too, I need the information of every single one of them," he looked up questioningly, but he knew better than to ask any questions.

And if he failed, I had other ways of getting the information I needed.

I stepped back into the hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors the only sound greeting me. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale.

I pulled a chair closer to her bed and sat down, reaching out to take her hand in mine. "They'll pay for this," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "I promise you."

A soft subtle knock on the door pulled me gaze away from her face and the door was pulled open with Aaron, my right hand man stepping into the room.

"We've to leave now Mr Marcello, we've gotten the people behind the fake shipments and also someone you might want to see," He said, pulling my attention to him.

"Who's it?" 

"Collin," 

"You have finally gotten your hands on him?" I asked, a small devilish smirk spreading on my face.

"Yes, he's in the warehouse where the shipments are being handled," Aaron replied.

"I need the guards to be here 24 hours on standby, make sure the doctors give her whatever she wants and have them know that if anything happens to her, I'll make sure their generations to come regret it," I said coldly, my gaze never leaving her face.

There was a dangerous edge to my voice, one that left no room for negotiation.

Aaron gave a firm nod. "Understood Mr Marcello, I'll handle it personally," 

I stood up slowly, releasing her pale delicate hands with reluctance.

"Let's go." With one last glance at her sleeping form, I turned and walked out of the room with Aaron walking closely behind me.

The air outside the hospital felt different—colder, heavier, charged with the weight of what was about to happen. The ride to the warehouse was silent, my mind replaying everything Aaron had said.

Collin.

A traitor. A rat who thought he could play with my business, with my family, and walk away unscathed. I had been waiting for this moment for too long.

By the time we arrived, the air inside the warehouse was thick with the scent of oil and dust. My men stood in position, their expressions unreadable, their weapons visible but untouched—for now.

Aaron led me through the dimly lit corridor toward the main area. And there, tied to a chair, bruised and bloodied but still breathing, was Collin.

He lifted his head at the sound of our footsteps, his swollen eyes narrowing as I stepped into the light.

"Marcello," he croaked, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "You finally found me."

I took slow, deliberate steps toward him, my lips curling into a cold smile. "You made it easy."

Collin let out a weak chuckle, though it was clear he was struggling to breathe. "You always were a stubborn bastard."

I crouched in front of him, tilting my head slightly. "And you were always a fool. Tell me, Collin—who else is working with you?"

His gaze flickered, hesitation flashing across his beaten face.

I sighed, standing back up and rolling my sleeves. "Aaron, I don’t think he understands the urgency of our conversation."

Aaron smirked. "I was hoping you'd say that."

I turned back to Collin, my expression darkening. "Let’s make this simple. You talk, and maybe—just maybe—you walk out of here alive."

Collin swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "And if I don’t?"

I leaned in, my voice deadly quiet. "Then I make sure you regret every single choice that led you here."