Serena's POV
I woke with a start and looked around. The room was still dark, the bedside lamp casting a warm but weak glow. My breaths came in shallow bursts, I glanced down and saw that my fingers were still clenched tightly around the edges of my mother's journal, the leather imprinting faint marks into my arm. I sat up slowly, pressing the journal to my chest like armor. The last entry played over and over in my head. The weight of the realization I had made a few hours ago hit me like a crash;
They killed my mother to do it.
A tremor passed through me, not from fear but from rage. My father's face, cold and impassive in his study flashed in my face, his dismissal, his lies. I had always known the underworld could be cold and ruthless but I didn't realize how much it seeped into my own family.
~~
By the time, the first rays of sunshine streamed into the room, I had already showered, dressed and locked the journal away in the back of my closet. I picked up my phone and stared at it for a long time. I needed someone who wasn't loyal to my father, someone who still remembered my mother, not as a figurehead in the underworld, but as a person. I scrolled through the contacts I hadn't looked at in years until I paused, my thumb hovered on one name: Lena Martins.
My mother's former assistant, quiet, efficient and loyal to my mother. I hesitated only for a second before calling.
"Hello?", a soft voice answered on the third ring.
"Lena? It's me... It's Serena Rossi", I spoke into the phone.
Silence.
Then I heard a hushed, shaky exhale.
"Oh.. my God. Serena?"
I let out a deep breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
"Yes. I need to ask you something. Something about my mother"
~~
We met in a quiet cafe on the edge of town, neutral ground. I wore a hoodie under my coat, hair tucked back, eyes covered securely by dark sunglasses. I pushed open the doors of the cafe, the soft sound of ringing bells instantly filled the room. I looked around and it didn't take long to find Lena, she was already seated at the corner. She looked like she'd aged ten years since the last time I saw her, her hair shorter, streaked with gray, wrinkles all over her face. But when she looked up and our eyes met, they were filled with warmth and worry.
"Lena", I called out as I approached her with a soft smile.
"Serena", she responded as she stood up and enveloped me hug.
"It's been ages", she said as we sat down.
I smiled.
"How have you been?", I asked her.
"Oh same old same old", she said waving her hands dismissively and continued staring at me with that warm gaze.
I smiled uneasily and she seemed to sense my discomfort as she chuckled embarrassedly.
"It's just you look a lot like her", she said.
I smiled softly.
"Yeah, everyone says that"
The waiter flitted over our table and we made our orders.
"I've been thinking about her death a lot these days", I began.
"Oh?", was all Lena said in response.
"And the more I do, the more things... don't add up", I continued.
Lena's fingers trembled slightly as she touched her necklace. "Serena-"
"Please, I need to know, what happened that day?", I pleaded.
Lena looked around worriedly then leaned in,
"I don't know everything, I wasn't there. But I remember how fast it all was. She was out for a drive, alone supposedly, but your mother never drove alone, that wasn't like her", she began.
My heart thudded in my chest, "What happened after?"
"They destroyed the car within a day, said it was too damaged to salvage. Your father didn't even request an autopsy, no official accident report was ever filed publicly, not one that I could find"
I stared at her.
"Are you saying there wasn't even a police investigation?"
"They said it was a brake failure, a tragic accident. That she died instantly, but your mother was healthy, sharp, careful. That car had just been serviced"
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Lena's face crumpled. "Because no one could. Your father shut everything down, he made sure everything was hush hush"
Serena felt ice flood her spine.
"He planned it"
"I can't say that", Lena shook her head quickly but her eyes said otherwise.
I stood up.
"Thank you", I said and began to walk away but she stopped me.
"Serena, be careful", she said and I saw the worry flood her eyes.
I smiled softly at her.
I walked back to the car in a daze, the world blurring at the edges. My mother's laughter echoed in my ears, distant and cruelly out of reach. I remembered the day they told me.
The sharp knock at the Rossi estate door, Lena's trembling voice,
"It's your mother... there's been an accident"
How the funeral happened two days later.
~~
When I returned to the Valeri estate, the guards let me in without question. I moved like a shadow, each step more certain than the last. My room was quiet when I stepped in, the window open slightly to let the spring breeze back in, I was sure I had Olivia to thank for that gesture. I didn't bother taking off my coat, I sat down at my desk, pulled out a notebook and began scribbling names, places and dates. If my mother had written everything down then I would follow in her footsteps, I would build my own ledger of truth. I had just finished writing in it when there was a knock on the door.
I didn't answer, the door opened anyway, Damian.
He stood in the doorway, sharp as ever in a black dress shirt, sleeves rolled. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept.
"I heard you left early this morning", he said.
"I wasn't aware I needed permission", I responded glibly.
He didn't rise to the bait, "Is everything okay?"
I looked up and met his gaze, cool and unreadable.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
He stepped in, slowly.
"You've been... different lately"
"I've been aware lately"
There was silence.
"I'm not your enemy Serena", Damian said quietly.
I laughed, hollow.
"No, you're just the man who married me after your brother died"
He flinched slightly.
I stood up.
"Don't pretend to care now, Damian, it's insulting"
He nodded once, jaw tight and turned away.
I watched him go, eyes narrowed. The emotion in his eyes when he flinched flashed in my head and I felt a sharp twinge in my chest but I shook my head forcefully. I couldn't afford any distractions, not now.
I traced the edges of my mother's journal again, not now when I had bigger things to do. I would get proof, I would expose my father and then I would destroy him, dismantle everything he built, brick by brick, lie by lie.