Leonardo stood by the window as he made preparations for their next move. Maria and Carls, the two key figures they needed answers from, had been transported to Spain by sea while Leonardo and the rest had flown ahead by jet. He needed to visit them in their cell, but there were other matters to attend to first. Arya’s phone rang, cutting through the quiet tension in the room. She glanced at the screen—an unsaved number. Her instincts flared with caution. Everyone around her paused, sensing the shift in the air. Rob gave her a nod, urging her to answer. Arya hesitated before picking up the call. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was familiar, yet unsettling. “Is this Mrs. Marcello?” the woman asked, her tone too casual for comfort. Arya’s heart quickened. “Yes, who is this?” she responded, her voice steady despite her unease. “It’s me, Lima. You won’t believe what I had to go through to get your number. I went to Ricardo’s place looking for you, but your husband told m
Arya couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The scene in front of her felt surreal—too much to process. She barely registered the ringing of her phone and glanced down to see Lima's name flashing on the screen. Without hesitation, she declined the call and turned her focus back to the unexpected visitors in front of her. "How did you find us?" Leonardo's voice cut through the thick tension. "Did you follow?" Isabel, standing tall with a handful of nuns by her side, offered a calm smile. "Of course not, Don Marcello. We know this place better than anyone. We’ve been here long before you arrived." Arya’s eyes narrowed. "That doesn’t explain how you tracked us down so quickly." Isabel’s expression softened, almost maternal. "Arya, you know more than most. You’ve seen the truth beneath the surface. I promise, we’re not here to fight. But we have something urgent to discuss." Bianca, ever practical, cut in, her voice sharp with suspicion. "How did you even get past the terrorist
They all sat in the empty cabin where the nuns had just finished praying, the atmosphere still thick with the scent of incense and a lingering sense of reverence. Isabel, standing at the center, glanced at each of them with a heavy heart before clearing her throat. "Like I said earlier, Don," she began, "we need your help. Our fight with La Hermandad de la Estrella has roots that stretch back for decades. But the real issue here isn't just old rivalries—it’s something much more personal for your family, Leonardo. Your wife’s mother played a vital role in this conflict. In fact..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "she might have been the one who set everything in motion." Arya frowned, feeling a knot form in her stomach. "Adriana? But you always spoke of her as brave and good. How could she be the one to start a war?" Isabel sighed, the weight of decades pressing on her shoulders. "I know it’s hard to believe, and it doesn’t erase the good that she did. But people
Isabel had to get rid of the body, ASAP! Isabel stared at the lifeless body for a moment, her mind racing. She could burn it in the furnace, scatter the ashes in the woods—or bury it. One thing was certain: she wouldn’t burden Adriana with the details. “Come, my child, let's get you cleaned up," she said softly, taking Adriana's hand and leading her away from the scene. Isabel was grateful she had the only key to the cathedral's back door. No one would discover the body before she returned. Time was on her side—for now. She guided Adriana into her private bathroom, one she shared with the Mother Superior. “Hurry, take off that nightdress and shower,” she instructed, her voice steady, despite the weight of the situation. Adriana, silent and pale, nodded obediently. As the young woman stepped under the icy water, Isabel picked up the blood-soaked garment, carefully placing it into a disposable bag. She glanced at Adriana—her hands trembling under the cold stream. The water w
“It’s been days, and we still haven’t heard from the priest,” Mother Superior said, her voice tight with frustration. “He might’ve gone somewhere quiet,” Chris, the priest’s assistant, suggested, though the uncertainty in his tone was unmistakable. “Where could be quieter than here? Have you checked the graveyard again?” Mother Superior asked, her eyes narrowing as she peered over her glasses. “Yes, Mother. Same result,” Chris responded, though his voice lacked conviction. “I don’t understand. How could he just vanish without a word?” Mother Superior pressed, pacing slightly. “I wish I knew, Mother. The last time I saw him, he was in an unusually excitable mood. He could hardly wait for me to leave the cathedral, eager to be alone,” Chris said, a shadow of confusion crossing his face. Isabel clenched her fists under her habit. That’s because he was preparing to violate a teenager. The words burned in her throat, but she swallowed them back, suffocating under the weight o
By the fourth week since the priest’s disappearance, Isabel’s unease deepened as the police swarmed the church, questioning the nuns and those close to him. Now, it was Adriana’s turn to face the scrutiny, and Isabel held her breath, recalling their earlier conversation. “We need a story,” Isabel had insisted. Adriana looked pale and exhausted. “What do I tell the cops?” “Tell them you helped me put the youngsters to bed, then assisted with the manure disposal before freshening up in my bathroom and heading to bed,” Isabel suggested, trying to sound confident. Given Adriana's illness, her questioning would likely be brief, but Isabel wanted her prepared for anything. “Fine,” Adriana replied, resting her head in her hands. Watching her suffer for defending herself tore at Isabel’s heart. It was tragic that it had come to this; murder was a grave matter, especially the murder of a priest. “Good. I’ll be right here during the questioning. Remember, don’t show any emot
Isabel’s heart plummeted. Had Claire been eavesdropping the whole time? A wave of disbelief and fear rushed through her veins. If Claire had overheard, they’d be left with only two options: silence her or run before she exposed them. “It’s not what you think,” Isabel said, standing quickly, trying to sound calm. Claire raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Because I saw you being quite affectionate with the orphan. Isn't that against the rules?” Isabel’s pulse slowed with a small sigh of relief. Claire hadn’t heard the conversation; she only saw the embrace. “It is, but only between fellow nuns. Not the children. I’ve raised Adriana from when she was just a baby. Sometimes the motherly instincts take over.” Claire rolled her eyes, clearly uninterested. “Right. Well, you’re lucky this time. I swear, if the Mayor funded the police properly, we wouldn’t have to rely on nuns to do our job.” She gave a dismissive wave. “Have a good day.” As the door shut behind Claire, Isabel turned to see A
By this time, Isabel and Dolores were both in their thirties and twenties respectively. They share a history that go back to their childhood and teenage years. Dolores’ mother, Lily, was the madame at La Hermandad de La Estrella at the time. They used to be close but now all that remained between them was trauma and hate. She fought back the tears and walked closer. Their voices were low, but Isabel could hear fragments of the conversation. Adriana spoke with a passion Isabel hadn’t seen in her before. "You don’t understand," Adriana whispered fiercely. "I can’t stay here. This place is a prison. I don’t want to be a nun, I want... I want something more." Dolores stepped closer, her voice like a serpent’s hiss. "And you shall have more. You have power within you, Adriana, power the convent has tried to suppress. You belong with us. when La Hermandad de la Estrella will give you the freedom you crave. We will give you purpose. But if I may ask, what exactly is your reason? The
Isabel cradled the baby close, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as the infant’s soft cries filled the room. Her daughter. She traced the baby’s tiny features with trembling fingers—her button nose, her soft cheeks, and the tiniest fingers she had ever seen. A fierce protectiveness gripped her heart, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. But the moment of tenderness was fleeting. The cold, harsh reality of her situation came crashing down on her. She had no home, no job, and no way to provide for herself, let alone a newborn. The room reeked of decay and dampness, its peeling walls and rat-infested corners a far cry from the safe haven a child deserved. The baby’s cries grew louder, piercing through Isabel’s haze of despair. “Shh, shh, I’m here,” she whispered, rocking her gently. But the cries didn’t stop, and Isabel realized with a sinking feeling that the baby was hungry. She looked around the room, her heart racing. There was no milk, no clean water—nothing. Panic cla
Arya gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “You got impregnated by your mother’s boyfriend?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Isabel nodded solemnly. “I did. I did all I could as a pregnant teenager with no home. I wish I’d known about the convent back then—it would have made my life so much easier. With little to no source of income or support, I was miserable and alone in the trenches of this town after I had to leave the old one. I won’t bore you with all the details. But when I was in labor, I had to make some difficult decisions.” FLASHBACK Isabel sat in the corner of her dimly lit room, chewing on the last bit of food she’d managed to scavenge. Her stomach cramped painfully, but she wasn’t sure if it was from hunger or something worse. It had been four days since her last meal, and her body was weak, her limbs trembling with every small movement. The cramps intensified, radiating through her body, and a wave of nausea swept over her. She pressed her hands again
“By the time I turned sixteen, much had changed in my life, though little for the better. I was the scorn of the town, whispers trailing me wherever I went. It wasn’t just the shame of my past that followed me like a shadow; it was the doors that slammed shut in my face, the jobs that paid me barely half of what they should, the side-eyes from those who thought they knew my story. And then there was Mama’s boyfriend, Stanley, who moved into our already-cramped home.” FLASHBACK Isabel stumbled into the house after a long, grueling day of work. The sun had long since set, and her body ached with exhaustion. She immediately headed to the kitchen, her stomach growling in protest, but her heart sank when she found the pans empty. She had prepared the food earlier that morning before leaving, but as usual, there was nothing left for her. Not a scrap. Her younger siblings, Amanda and Jacob, had already gone out for their own work, leaving the house silent save for the faint rustling
Arya burst into the room, emotions swirling in a storm of frustration. Leonardo, shirtless and in sweatpants, lay on the bed with his laptop, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. When he looked up and saw her, his expression immediately softened. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “Fuck! I’m so tired of all of this! When does it actually end?” Arya's voice was thick with anger and despair as she shouted, letting out everything she had bottled up inside. Leonardo remained quiet, letting her vent, and placed a gentle hand on her back for support, feeling the tension in her shoulders. “We can talk about it when you're ready,” he said quietly, his voice calm and steady. She took a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Isabel said she’s my grandmother,” she blurted out. He froze, stunned by her revelation. It explained so much—Isabel’s secretive behavior, her willingness to help them even at great personal risk. “How do you fe
Arya walked into the Mayor’s office, her mind still swirling with thoughts of her time at the convent, which had ended permanently. Henry had called her the day before, insisting that someone come to the Townhouse to collect a certificate for her volunteer service. She had kindly turned him down, but Henry was insistent, not taking no for an answer. Arya found herself wondering where this sudden niceness was coming from. She didn’t trust a single soul in this town, not even after everything she’d done to protect herself, including running a secret background check on Ricardo—though he would never find out about that. “Ah, Dona, welcome to my office,” the Mayor greeted, his voice oozing charm as his secretary led her into the room. Across from him sat Isabel and one of the council members, Frederick. Arya couldn’t bring herself to look at Isabel, her gaze fixed firmly on Henry instead. “Thank you for having me,” Arya said, offering a smile that barely touched her lips. Henr
She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s… it’s all too much, Leo. Everything. Isabel, the Sisterhood, my parents—I never even had the chance to mourn them, and now all of this…” He squeezed her hands, the warmth of his touch grounding her. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I know it feels like the world is crumbling, but we’ll get through it. We always do.” She gave a bitter laugh, wiping away a tear. “You warned me about this life. You told me it would be hard, that it would come with pain and danger. And I thought I was ready. But now…” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression softening. “You are ready. You’re stronger than anyone I know. And you’re not alone.” She broke down into even harder sobs, and he just held her close, letting her cry against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, and he whispered soothing words, his touch gentle and comforting. As her body shook with grief, he fought the urge to share what had happe
By the time they finished work, dusk had settled over the city, casting long shadows across the streets. “I need to get back to the cabin,” Leonardo said, gathering his things. “My wife’s there, and we’ll wrap things up once we’re back.” He knew Arya had gone to the convent earlier to confront Isabel, and although his instincts told him she was safe, a faint sense of urgency nagged at him. Working here, dealing with everything else, had given her space, but he couldn’t help wanting to check in on her. Behind him, Ricardo and Rob were in yet another argument, voices rising and falling as they debated. Leonardo had long since learned to tune them out. Instead, he let his thoughts wander. Spending most of his childhood alone, with only the company of books he’d memorized cover to cover, he’d become accustomed to living inside his mind, finding peace there. But something shifted. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of movement, something or someone moving too delib
Leonardo walked into the room to find everyone already seated, waiting expectantly. He took his seat, and Rob slid a few files across the table. “These are all we could gather, boss. I double-checked—it’s everything they had,” Rob said, his tone firm. Leonardo picked up the files, scanning through them quickly. Setting them back down, he looked up, addressing the room. “Someone is playing a twisted game with my wife. She suspects it might be the Mother Superior, but I’m not convinced,” he began, his voice steely. Rob tensed beside him. Usually, they didn’t discuss these matters openly, especially with others around. But Rob must have trusted Leonardo’s judgment since he didn’t attempt to question it. “Of course, we don’t suspect any of you,” Leonardo added, glancing around the table. “We trust you all completely, especially after the support you’ve shown. And if we need further assistance, we’ll reach out.” He nodded at Ricardo, who took the cue. “You heard the Don. We
Arya could hardly believe Isabel’s audacity. Her voice trembled with anger as she glared at the Mother Superior. “Don’t sit there on your high horse, pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Isabel sighed, placing her reading glasses delicately on the table. “I get that you’re the wife of a very powerful man, a Don, but Arya, I don’t need to hear about the issues in your marriage. I have done nothing wrong, and I genuinely have no idea what you’re accusing me of.” Arya recoiled, taken aback by the indifference in Isabel’s tone. “What? Why would you say that?” “Why shouldn’t I?” Isabel responded sharply, her expression unreadable. Arya narrowed her eyes, studying Isabel's face. “No. Why would you assume this was about my marriage, Isabel? What makes you think that’s what I came here for?” Isabel raised an eyebrow, her mouth curling in a faint, mocking smile. “Oh, it’s not? Then I’m truly sorry for the misunderstanding. But tell me, Arya—what exactly are you accusi