Made For You

Ch. 36: Trapped

Sofia

I could have told Gabriel right then. But I knew the shock it would cause him. He wouldn't believe me, not even with the feeble proof.

Besides, can people have similar tattoos? What would I show him? A blurry CCTV footage zoomed into the gunman's nape then ask Fabio to show his? That would be counterproductive.

I hold no power over Gabriel, unlike Fabio. They have been through thick and thin. If Gabriel discovered that Fabio was behind his downfall, he would be in a fix. He wouldn't be able to take any action.

Who would believe him if he accused Fabio in front of his capos? That would just make things uglier. With Juan announcing that Gabriel is his blood, things have taken a turn. The capos are probably struggling to adjust to this information. If Fabio is blamed, it would lead to an internal power struggle.

I don't worry about my father. He would be by Gabriel's side since being the future Don's father-in-law gives him a level of respect. Vincent, on the other hand, I cannot be sure of. He is ambitious. He would do everything to move a step ahead in the political game. As a family, the De Lucas can't appear to be shattered from the inside.

The threads of power are fragile within the Conclave. With one wrong move, Gabriel would forever lose the support of everyone.

So, when I arrive back home—in a separate car before everyone else—I decide to do some digging to support my claims.

If I can find more incriminating proof of Fabio's deeds, I can help Gabriel expose him.

The mansion is shadowed in the depth of nightfall when my car rolls into the driveway. I climb down, Helene appearing beside me from the passenger's seat. I can sense that she has taken it upon herself to keep an eye on me still. Either she doesn't trust me or she cares for me.

The latter isn't a possible option.

I find her following me once we are inside. I stop after climbing a few steps up the stairs, turning to face her.

"Seriously? You're gonna follow me everywhere?" I snap, catching her by a little surprise by her agape countenance.

"I was just going to check if you needed anything," she says with a redness in her cheeks that gives away her truth.

"No need," I deadpan. "If you wish to take care of me, go and prepare me something to get rid of my headache. I'll be in my room."

"Yes, Miss."

She steps down while I head forward, my chin high. I keep walking in the direction that would lead to the primary suite, knowing that she is watching. Once I am far away, she starts to head towards the kitchen, much to my relief.

With a thumping heart, I change the course my feet take, heading for the other wing.

I have never been to Fabio's room, obviously because I never needed to. But tonight I draw closer to the darkened corridor at the end of which two double doors as equally magnificent as the ones of the primary suite beckon me.

My steps tremble the closer I get, my ears numb, blocking every sound except for my heartbeats. The cool metal of the door handles chills my palm, sending a shiver that runs its way down my spine.

As I open the doors, a cinnamon scent hits my nostrils. I identify it as Fabio's cologne. He always wears the same one.

His bedroom is just like the primary suite with its separated parts with the sitting room, the short corridor that leads to the bedroom, and the balcony. But unlike our room, his has accents of cool green and white. It doesn't go with his personality.