CHAPTER 97: 97

A few hours earlier...

After the acquisition of Carmela’s painting, I had originally planned to leave the ship. There was no reason to stay. I had gotten what I came for. But something about that painting held me in place.

It stood before me, taller than I remembered, framed in dark oak that had aged with time and salt air. Carmela had painted herself sitting by a window, bathed in sunlight that danced across her face. Her eyes, those same storm filled brown eyes that once looked into mine seemed to follow me, alive with unspoken words. Every brushstroke was precise yet emotional, carrying the weight of her soul. The glimmer of light on her cheek looked real enough to touch; the faint curl of her lips hinted at both serenity and sorrow. It was more than art; it was a heartbeat trapped in canvas.

I reached out, running my fingers along the painting’s surface. The texture was smooth at first, but then my hand paused as something felt off. My thumb brushed over a rough edge near the frame, a hairline crack making me frown as I narrowed my eyes at it. The crack wasn’t random. It was too deliberate, too measured to just be over looked

Leaning closer, as I noticed faint markings around it like someone had carefully pried that section open before. My pulse quickened. This painting had been stored under maximum security. For a crack like that to exist, someone must have tampered with it.

I pressed lightly against the damaged part and heard a faint click. A small, rectangular piece of the frame came loose in my hand. Behind it, hidden in the hollow, was a folded piece of paper aged, yellowing, but neatly sealed.

My breath caught.

Not thinking much of it, I slipped it out, half-expecting it to be a love note, a farewell letter, or anything from her, my Carmela. But when I unfolded it, my entire body went still.

It wasn’t a letter.

It was a birth certificate. Two, actually both dated on the same day. One for Liam Sorrento. The other for Carmela Sorrento.

My eyes darted over the names, reading and rereading, hoping I was mistaken. But the ink didn’t lie’ and neither were my eyes deceiving me, Elisa, Carmela’s so called twin sisters birth certificate wasn’t present

Leading to just one opinion

"Elisa may not be related then to the Sorrento family, but then... if Liam and Carmela are Camillo Sorrento’s only children," I murmured under my breath, "where from hell did Elisa come from?"

I stared at the certificates again, my thoughts spiraling into chaos, as my brain began drafting different possibilities. After Ella’s death, her body was never recovered. The records said it was taken to the mortuary, but by the time I got there, it was gone. With no explanation of how it disappeared. It was just gone.

And now, months later after Carmela’s death, a woman who looked exactly like her appeared out of nowhere with the same eyes, the same subtle gestures, even the same silence that carried both innocence and mystery. Then there was her child... the little one who mirrored my every mannerism, who had my eyes and even bore my name.

Could it be just a coincidence? Or something more sinister?

I tried to reason with myself. Perhaps it was grief clouding my logic. Perhaps I was seeing ghosts where none existed. But the coincidences were stacking up too perfectly aligned to ignore.

And then there was what Liam had said earlier, his words echoing in my head like a haunting riddle, that he had mentioned at the hospital on the day Nyxella was born.

About Camillo’s secret. A chill spread through me as I thought about it

Something was terribly wrong and I could feel it crawling beneath my skin, whispering that I was standing on the edge of something deep and dark. I didn’t know what it was yet, but my instincts, the same instincts that had saved me countless times screamed that this was no ordinary deception.

Only one person can impersonate Carmela so perfectly and that’s Ella.. but she’s dead as they claimed.

Then who is Elisa, truly? Could she be Ella, reborn under a different name and identity that Camillo had given her? Or had Camillo crafted something far more dangerous: a living illusion?

The more I thought, the more my chest tightened. Nothing made sense anymore. Every truth I held was unraveling, thread by thread.

I folded the certificates back, tucking them back into the painting .There was only one way to find out the truth and it wasn’t by running.

I couldn’t leave at least not until I discovered what secret Camillo is shielding.

So I straightened up, took one more at Carmela’s painted eyes and for a fleeting second, I swore they moved.

Before I tore my gaze away and went to prepare for the new year eve party.

Presently...

I lifted my glass, my voice cutting through the music like ice.

"Elisa will be learning directly under me... to take over T&C Construction Group, which is, eventually, her sister’s company."

The room erupted with gasps,and whispers. Even Camillo’s composed mask faltered.

I watched as Elisa’s eyes widened, the words barely registering before the weight of them sank in. For a split second, she looked overwhelmed and confused, but in a matter of seconds, she masked her emotions.

"What... are you talking about, Nix?" she asked, her voice trembling under a fragile calm that betrayed the storm within her.

She tried to smile, pretending I was joking by waving one of her hands dismissively, but her lips faltered halfway. My eyes remained fixed on her, as though I was trying to rip away the mask she wore.

Then my gaze softened when I noticed the little one, Nyxella dressed in a delicate gown of soft satin and lace, her tiny fingers curling forward as if beckoning me closer. An effortless smile touched my lips as I walked toward her, scooping her gently into my arms. A radiant grin spread across her face, revealing tiny white teeth as she clapped her hands.

"Papa!" she called, tapping her small palms against my cheeks.

I narrowed my eyes at Elisa, whose expression froze and her eyes wide, nearly bulging from their sockets.

"You seem surprised hearing her call me that," I murmured, my voice low enough for only her to hear. "I’ve always heard that babies only repeat what their parents teach them. So tell me, Miss Elisa... what exactly have you been feeding this little one?"

"Mr. Dean, we can understand if you claim that your relationship with your sister-in-law was misinterpreted by the public," a woman interjected sharply, "but children don’t lie. The little girl in your arms just called you her father. What do you have to say in your defense?"

I turned to the speaker, a woman who, by the looks of it, lacked not only fashion sense but also common sense.

"I mean," she continued nervously, "I overheard your fiancée talking about killing the little one if the child truly is.."

"You’d better speak for yourself and not drag others into this," Luciana snapped, her tone fierce.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I shifted my gaze to Camillo, who stood to the side wearing a blank expression. What a coward of a father he is.

"I suppose I didn’t make myself clear from the start," I said, straightening. "Miss Luciana’s proposal is from the Aron family, and I’m a Dean not an Aron. Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s move to the next issue."

I glanced down at Nyxella, still resting comfortably in my arms. "She calls me ’father’ because I’m her godfather. Didn’t anyone notice she was named after me?" I raised an eyebrow, my smile unwavering. "Her father was one of my closest friends back in school. So yes, she’s also my daughter... in spirit. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Elisa?"

I turned back to Elisa. Her expression was perfectly composed, and plastic, but I could see the storm brewing beneath the surface, especially as she kept exchanging uneasy glances with Camillo.

She suddenly forced a smile onto her lips, the kind only a seasoned actress could pull off.

"Of course, Mr. Dean..." she said sweetly, stepping closer to take little Nyxella from my arms.

But before she could say another word, the night sky outside cracked open with the sound of fireworks, a thunderous burst followed by a cascade of shimmering lights painting the darkness in gold, crimson, and violet. Cheers erupted from the crowd beyond the glass walls, and voices overlapping in joyous chaos.

"Happy New Year!" they screamed, their laughter echoing through the night.

I turned slightly, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Happy New Year then... Mrs. Elisa," I murmured though the smile never reached my eyes and slowly, it faded, leaving only a cold resolve in its place as I walked toward the exit, my shadow stretching long behind me.

Let the new year bear witness... Cause the hunt has begun.