Chapter 60
MONALISA P. O. V
My mind instantly flashed back to the time when Diane had mentioned that name on the first day I arrived at Derek’s mansion. My jaw dropped in amazement as I remembered that Diane had never provided me with many details about the name but had mentioned that she was on a mission to avenge her death.
I turned to Nafia, determined to extract every bit of information from her. Nafia, having been in the mansion for a long time, seemed to know every nook and cranny of the place like the back of her hand.
“Nafia, how long have you been living in this mansion?” I inquired, turning to face her.
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re quite the curious one,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been here since I was 15 years old,” she added in a whisper.
“What?” I gasped, my eyes widening in shock.
She nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. “My father sold me to Mob Bobby because he couldn’t pay off his debt,” she explained, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“That’s incredibly cruel,” I exclaimed, my voice filled with pity.
She shook her head in disagreement with my statement. “He had no other choice at that moment because Mob Bobby had threatened to kill my family if they didn’t let me go,” she defended her father. “Since then, my life has never been the same. I felt like a shadow of myself when I found out that Mob Bobby had killed my family despite his promise to spare them,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. I instinctively reached out to comfort her, gently patting her back to soothe her.
After a while, she composed herself, wiped away her tears, and looked up at me. “Ask me anything, and I’ll answer,” she said, as if she could read my mind.
“Tell me about this woman, Becca,” I inquired, pointing to her picture.
Nafia sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Rebecca was a well-known journalist whom Derek fell in love with at first sight, and she felt the same way about him. They were deeply in love, but after only two months of dating, Derek brought her to this mansion to meet his father. Mob Bobby was captivated with the moon-shaped necklace she was wearing that day and insisted that Derek leave her with him in the house…”
“Just like he told Derek to leave me here,” I interjected, my voice barely above a whisper.
Nafia smiled and shook her head, “She agreed to stay because of her love for Derek, but Derek refused to let her stay because he knew what his father was capable of and his true intentions,” she said.
She continued, “That night when we spent the night here, I talked to her, warning her, but she was determined to research Mob Bobby. Unfortunately, she stumbled upon this room, saw all these things, and quickly reported to the TV station she worked for.”
“What happened after that?” I asked.
“Becca was a very stubborn and curious type who wanted to know everything happening around her. She overheard Mob Bobby discussing looking for a girl whose family they had ruined. Becca decided to investigate further, however Mob Bobby caught her”
“And they killed her because of that?” I asked.
“No, they didn’t kill her themselves. He did. He murdered her in cold blood,” she replied, goosebumps appearing on her skin.
“Who?” I furrowed my brows in confusion.
She remained silent for a moment before finally saying, “Derek killed Becca. He murdered her in cold blood.”
I struggled and almost fell to the ground, but Nafia quickly held my arm, helping me stand as my breathing quickened. “What did you say?” I asked again, needing confirmation.
*******
DEREK POINT OF VIEW.
Paulo entered the building where my mother was held and stood in front of me. “Your time is up,” he said, grasping his hand behind his back.
“Can I have more time? I want to talk to my mother,” I pleaded.
Surprisingly, he turned and walked away without saying a word, leaving me shocked. I had expected him to send me away or even point his gun at me. This was unexpected.
I turned to my mother, smiled, and sat on the floor.
My mother sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Even as a child, you were clever and smart. Did you notice how your father and I lived together in the mansion?” she asked.
Memories flooded back to when I was a child. My parents’ marriage was far from ideal, with my father subjecting my mother to emotional and physical abuse. I often found my mother in hidden spots, wiping away tears and pretending nothing was wrong when I asked.
As a child, I witnessed the hardships my mother endured at the hands of my father. I couldn’t understand why she continued to defend him.
“Your relationship with father was more like a master and servant dynamic,” I replied, shrugging.
She smiled, shaking her head, “You will never understand. No matter what he did to me, I still felt like I owed him my life. If it weren’t for him, I don’t know if you would be alive today.” She responded, confusing and angering me again for defending him once more.
“Why did he keep you down here for the past 25 years?” I asked in a calm voice, trying to control my anger.
“25 years ago,” she began. “There was a project your father was discussing with the JINS and with his guest. I overheard their conversation in his room. However, after some years, it didn’t go well. I overheard them planning a way to eliminate him and his family.”
“What is the man’s name?” I asked, mentally noting down everything she was saying.
“His name is Johnson Mardro. I did some research about him. He was working as an undercover agent in Sandmark company but was betrayed by his colleagues, leading to his boss firing him,” she explained.
“He was desperate for money, which led him to agree to work with your father. But it didn’t end well, as your father targeted his family,” she broke down in tears. “I tried to stop your father from harming that family, and I had enough of him ruining people’s lives. So, I threatened to expose him to the world if he made any move to harm them.”
I looked up to see her crying uncontrollably, sniffing.
“I guess that’s why he kept you locked down here,” I said, and she nodded in agreement. “But what happened to the man and his family?” I asked again.
She shook her head sadly, “I don’t know.” Her face fell, then suddenly she looked up with hope in her eyes. “But I know someone who knows all the details,” she said.
I furrowed my eyebrows, “Who?”
“Dominic!” She said, smiling. “He has all the information you need because he used to be your father’s driver.”
My brain tried to process which Dominic she was referring to. “Which Dominic, mother?”
“Dominic Wick,” she muttered, shocking me as my jaw dropped instantly.
.