Chapter 789

Victoria Roscente locked eyes with her father Victor Roscente.

"Dad, how much do you really know about Sophia Evans?"

She caught the fleeting shift in his expression.

That wasn't the look of someone hearing shocking news for the first time.

"I know nothing."

Victor's voice tightened.

"You're lying." Victoria pressed forward. "Theo isn't Sophia's child, is he?"

The study's atmosphere turned glacial.

Victor's fingers tapped absently against the desk.

"This conversation ends here."

"Why?" Victoria's voice trembled. "Does this have something to do with Alexander's death—"

"Enough!"

Victor slammed his palms on the desk and stood abruptly.

He strode toward the staircase but paused at the landing.

"Some truths are better left buried."

Victoria watched her father's retreating figure.

The memory surfaced—that rain-soaked night five years ago at Alexander's funeral. Sophia clutching newborn Theo, her wails piercing the air.

Those tears had held too many secrets.

Victor returned to his study and locked the door.

From the bottom drawer, he retrieved a yellowed photograph.

The girl in the picture smiled radiantly, her belly slightly rounded.

The bar singer.

Alexander had died never knowing who really killed the woman he loved.

Victor flicked open his lighter.

Flames licked the photograph's edges, turning the past to ash.

Every move had been calculated—from making Alexander fall for that girl, to convincing the family to accept "Sophia's child."

A flawless scheme.

Pity Sophia proved such a useless pawn.

Victor gazed at the darkening sky through the window.

Time to rearrange the board.