Buried Alive, I Left the Don My Blood-Written Truth Chapter 02
Adrian’s voice was very soft. Margaret tightened her grip on the rosary.
“I said, a girl is gone. So what?”
She looked at the tiny bones beside the well. There wasn’t a flicker of sorrow in her eyes.
“The Moretti family allowed her to carry the name Moretti for three years. That was more grace than she deserved.”
Adrian stepped forward sharply.
“Her name was Lily. She was my daughter.”
Margaret sneered.
“Since when is a daughter an heir?”
“You’re the young Don of the Moretti family. The Moretti bloodline can’t end with you.”
“That lowborn woman Elena couldn’t even give you a son. Did she think a daughter would be enough to tie you to her for the rest of your life?”
I drifted in front of her, unable to look away from that cruel mouth. So this was what she had thought all along. Vivian’s knees went weak. Her shoulders shook as she cried.
“Mrs. Moretti, please stop.”
She lifted her face toward Adrian. Tears clung to her lashes.
“Adrian, Mrs. Moretti is old. She’s speaking out of anger.”
“After Lily went missing, she was sick for days too.”
Adrian looked at her.
“You knew too?”
Vivian turned pale.
“I… I only knew Lily was missing. Nothing else.”
Adrian crouched and took half a jade button from Lily’s little hand bones. One edge had been chipped away. I knew that button. It came from my wedding dress. The day Lily disappeared, I had run to the well looking for her. In the struggle, I lost half that button. She had been holding it the whole time. Adrian closed his fist around it. The veins stood out hard across the back of his hand.
“Who can examine the remains?”
The butler hurried to speak.
“Don Moretti, there is nothing left but bones. Why disturb her further…”
From the crowd, a gray-clad servant spoke.
“I can examine the remains.”
Everyone turned. The servant lifted her head, revealing a young woman with a pale, delicate face.
“Don Moretti, if you don’t object, I used to work at a mortuary.”
Margaret snapped, “Who let this lowborn servant in? How dare you lay a hand on Moretti flesh and blood?” The servant did not flinch.
“A minute ago, Margaret said she was only a little girl. Now she’s Moretti flesh and blood?”
Margaret’s expression darkened. Adrian looked at the servant.
“What is your name?”
“Ava.”
I stared at her and froze. Ava. Three years ago, I had volunteered at a soup kitchen outside the city. I had saved a girl who was almost sold into an underground club. She had clutched my skirt and said, “Elena, I will repay you.” So she was still alive. Ava crouched before Lily’s remains. Her movements were gentle. After a moment, she looked up.
“The child didn’t fall into the well by accident.”
Adrian swallowed hard.
“Speak.”
Ava pointed to the back of the skull.
“There is a compression injury here.”
“A fall leaves scattered impact marks. This doesn’t.”
“But the injury on Miss Lily’s skull came from someone forcing her head down, striking it, and then holding her under the water.”
Vivian gasped softly. “Impossible.” Ava glanced at her.
“How would you know that, Miss Vivian?”
Vivian bit her lip.
“I just meant… who could do that to such a small child?”
Margaret raised her voice.
“Enough.”
She pointed at Ava.
“You’re a funeral-home worker. What kind of filthy lie are you spreading?”
“Elena poisoned Connor. The evidence was clear.”
“Her daughter went missing. Who knows what she did in her madness? Perhaps she killed the child herself and then pretended to be the victim.”
Adrian lifted his eyes.
“By the time Connor died, you had already locked Elena in the back annex for seven days without food or water.”
“She couldn’t even leave her room. How could she have carried medicine to Connor’s bedside?”
Margaret choked. Vivian hurried to speak.
“Adrian, Connor’s death still has to be investigated.”
“Elena did sign a confession before she died.”
“The medicine bowl was in her room. Traces of poison were found near her stove. Even her personal maid testified against her.”
Pain flashed across Adrian’s face. I knew what he had remembered. The investigation file. The medicine bowl. The bloodstained handkerchief. The confession. Each one was a nail, pinning me into the monster they needed me to be. Ava took a scrap of cloth from her sleeve.
“Don Moretti, I found this in Elena’s coffin just now.”
Adrian took it. On the cloth was a half sentence I had written in blood.
