Chapter 5
V. The Ten-Year Lie
The police arrived that very night.
The guests were rushed out, taking with them the shock, the whispers, and the certainty that they were witnessing the collapse of a domestic empire.
Cecília was taken to the hospital. She was weak, malnourished, and had been medicated for years with substances meant to keep her confused and dependent. But she was lucid enough to say one final sentence before leaving: "Don't let Viktor speak for me ever again."
Alexandre didn't. At the police station, the truth emerged piece by piece.
Viktor had orchestrated everything after the death of the Morelli patriarch. Cecília had discovered multi-million-dollar embezzlements from the family funds and intended to expose him. Before she could act, Viktor launched a cruel plan.
First, he spread a narrative among bribed doctors that Cecília was suffering from severe psychiatric episodes. Then he organized the fake trip. Then the fake death. The closed casket. The hasty funeral. Alexandre’s grief. Everything used as a stage prop.
Cecília, kept drugged and isolated, was hidden away in a room of her own house. Few servants knew. Those who suspected something were fired. Those who participated received either money or threats.
Viktor took control of the family. Of the companies. Of the documents. Of the keys. And, most importantly, of the narrative. Because whoever controls a family's story controls the family entirely.
Alexandre listened to every detail like a man watching his own life being dismantled. He didn't scream. He didn't break anything. His anger was silent. And for that very reason, terrifying.
When he finally came face-to-face with Viktor in the station hallway, his uncle still tried to maintain a shred of dignity. "I did what was necessary."
Alexandre looked at him. "My mother spent ten years imprisoned." "She was sick." "You made her sick."
Viktor clenched his jaw. "You were young. Weak. You would have destroyed everything." "Perhaps." Alexandre took a step closer. "But it would have been my choice."
May you like
Viktor tried to speak. Alexandre cut him off: "You stole my mother from me. You stole ten years of her life. Ten years of mine. You stole a family's right to suffer through the truth instead of living a lie."
For the first time, Viktor averted his eyes. And Alexandre understood that men like him didn't fear justice out of remorse. They feared it because, stripped of power, they had nothing left.
