A hidden camera.
The angle showed the lower corridor outside the cold room.
Cold. Dim. Empty.
Then—
Ciro’s voice.
Low. Close. Intimate. Confessional.
“Well, Elena. I tried to make you see it—from the very start. From the moment I saw you punch Renzo in the face outside that dressing room, I caught feelings for you... but I know it’s forbidden. I know it’s wrong to want Vincenzo’s wife. I know you will never be mine... yet I crave you every single day.”
My chest tightened.
“That’s why I can’t stop looking at you. Every lingering glance... every time I made sure you knew I was watching... hoping, just hoping, that maybe you’d see me. You never did.”
My pulse slowed.
My jaw locked.
“I was also angry at you for not seeing how much I desperately wanted you. So when Violet came to me with her plan... I said yes easily—to put you on Vincenzo’s worst side, to make it look like you had stolen his most precious treasure.In truth, I was the one who took it from his safe and handed it to Violet to pin on you. In the mafia world, betrayals are punished harshly—even if it’s our own son, a wife, or an outsider. I knew it would work. Because if I couldn’t have you... at least Vincenzo would never have you either.”
The video ended.
Silence slammed into the room.
I didn’t move.
I just stood there—staring at the blank screen as the truth rewired itself inside my head.
Then slowly—
I looked up.
Ciro had backed away.
Two steps.
Maybe three.
His face was pale.
Bloodless.
His eyes darted toward the exit.
Like he was already calculating escape.
Like he thought he could outrun this.
The realization hit harder than anything else that night.
This—
This was the man I had trusted.
More than Renzo.
