After My Father Was Murdered, I Thought He Was My Savior Chapter 09

After My Father Was Murdered, I Thought He Was My Savior Chapter 09

The Sicilian estate fell into dead silence. 

“Still no news of Donna Valentina?” 

After receiving a negative answer, Rinaldo walked 

into the master bedroom and buried his face deep 

in Valentina’s pillow. 

He wanted to find what little remained of her 

scent. 

He carefully picked up a fallen strand of hair and 

pressed it to his chest. 

A tear slid down silently. 

“Valentina, where are you?” 

Rinaldo lay on the side of the bed where she 

usually slept. 

In a daze, he seemed to return to those nights they 

had spent together. 

Valentina had curled against him, her eyes filled 

with complete, unguarded trust. 

Rinaldo suddenly sat up, gasping for air. 

His chest felt as if someone had stabbed a knife 

straight through it. 

The pain almost stopped him from breathing. 

He rushed downstairs, trying to escape the estate filled with memories. 

Every corner held traces of her. 

Like knives, they cut into his wounds again and again. 

The pain nearly tore him apart. 

Rinaldo sat soullessly on the stone steps at the entrance, like a statue. 

Only when the storm soaked him completely did 

the godfather’s powerful body finally give out. 

His vision went black. 

He collapsed in the rain. 

At that moment, I was inside a hidden forensic 

laboratory in Milan. 

Facing a body killed in a mafia shootout, I skillfully 

began the restoration work. 

Sweat slid down beneath my mask, but my hands 

remained steady. 

Every stitch felt like a continuation of my father’s will. 

He had once been the best undercover officer. 

He had spent his life searching for evidence of mafia crimes. 

And I would use body restoration to preserve the last dignity of every life destroyed by the mafia. 

For years, I had wanted to become a real forensic specialist. 

But Rinaldo always stopped me in the name of protection. 

Again and again, he delayed my path. 

In five years, I had never truly worked independently. 

Those five years of life contained nothing but his control. 

From now on, I would use these hands to repair every scarred body and record every truth that 

needed to be restored. 

For myself. 

And for my father. 

I would continue down this road toward justice. 

After finishing the restoration, I sent the body’s 

photos to Interpol. 

I hoped they would help crack the mafia shootout 

case. 

“Don Rinaldo! The intelligence team found Donna 

Valentina! An informant saw her at a forensic lab 

in Milan!” 

Rinaldo quickly opened the classified file. 

That familiar figure instantly seized his heart. 

He rapidly flipped through one flawless body. 

restoration report after another. 

Each one showed an extremely high level of 

expertise. 

He stared at the case records Valentina had 

handled and said nothing for a long time. 

Perhaps he remembered that he had once promised to support her in becoming the best forensic specialist. 

Or perhaps he saw that she had already found a new direction in life. 

“Prepare for Milan immediately. I’m bringing her back myself. Tell everyone to keep eyes on her. She is my woman. She always will be.”