My father tightened the bandages around my face on the morning of my wedding as if he were not preparing me for marriage, but sealing me inside a prison he had built before I could even speak. 😔

The sudden light burned my eyes, but I didn't step back. I stood my ground beside the open safe, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides.

My father was dressed in a dark suit, his hair meticulously combed back, though the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his calm demeanor. His eyes scanned Adrian first, lingering on the black binder in his hands, before shifting to me.

When Victor’s eyes landed on my bare face, he froze.

A strange, visceral shock rippled across his featureless expression. His gun hand trembled for a fraction of a second. For twenty-two years, he had kept my face wrapped under cotton, forcing himself to see only a veiled puppet. Now, standing right in front of him, fully exposed under the harsh chandelier light, was the exact image of the woman he had destroyed.

"Elena..." he breathed involuntarily, the word slipping past his lips before he could stop it.

"Her name was Elena," I said, my voice ringing out clear, steady, and sharp through the quiet library. "And I am her daughter. Not your prisoner, Victor."

Victor swallowed hard, his eyes narrowing as he quickly regained his cold composure. He raised the gun again, leveling it directly at my forehead.

"You should have stayed wrapped in your room, Sofia," Victor said softly, his tone dripping with fake regret. "You were safe there. I gave you everything you needed. A peaceful life, free from the ugly reality of the world."

"You gave me a cage!" I shouted, taking a step toward him. "You made me believe I was deformed! You let me grow up thinking I was a monster while you lived in luxury on the money you stole from my mother's family!"

"Your mother was weak!" Victor spat, his face twisting into a bitter sneer. "She was ungrateful! I built an empire for her, and she wanted to destroy it all over some worthless ancient stones and moral principles! She was going to take you away from me!"

"She was going to save me from you!" I retorted. "And you killed her for it!"

"It was an accident!" Victor roared, his composure finally cracking wide open. "She grabbed the steering wheel! She chose to go over that cliff rather than let me take you back!"

The room went dead silent.

The confession hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. He hadn't just arranged the crash—he was in the car with her when it happened. He had let her die in the wreckage while he pulled me from the backseat, using my alleged injuries as the ultimate cover-up for his crime.

"You monster," Adrian growled, stepping subtly in front of me, shielding my body with his own. "It's over, Victor. Clara is outside with the Federal Police right now. They have the entire perimeter surrounded."

Victor laughed—a harsh, barking sound without a shred of humor. "Clara is a lunatic who has been chasing shadows for twenty years. The police won't enter this house without a signed search warrant, which takes hours. And by the time they get one, you two will be at the bottom of the Atlantic, just like Elena."

He raised the weapon, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"Adrian, move!" I screamed.