Chapter 142: The Confession

Midnight had settled deep over the mansion, the halls quiet except for the occasional creak from the windows and the distant hum of the wind.

Michelle sat curled on the edge of her narrow bed, still fully dressed, unable to sleep, when a soft knock came at her door. She flinched so hard she nearly knocked over the lamp beside her.

"Michelle, are you awake?" Roderick’s voice was low through the door. "Salvatore wants to see you."

Her stomach dropped straight through the floor. She knew. Somehow, she knew this moment would come.

She was too scared. She knew she would die soon. She looked at the pills on the nightstand. Was it time to take them? She had thought about it a long time ago.

But she couldn’t make herself do it.

She held her hands together. If it was her time to die, then let it be. Even though she couldn’t control her fear.

She got up to face Roderick. "Something happened?"

Roderick looked at her. "Just come with me."

Roderick said nothing else as he led her down the corridor, his pace steady, his face unreadable in the dim light.

Michelle’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. By the time they reached the door of Salvatore’s office, she was trembling so badly she had to press her palms against her thighs just to keep them still.

Roderick pushed the door open and gestured for her to go inside.

Salvatore sat behind his desk, one leg crossed over the other, watching her enter with a terrifying calmness.

Joe sat on the sofa nearby, arms folded, his eyes tracking her every movement with the same sharp attention.

"Sit," Salvatore said, nodding toward the chair across from him.

Michelle lowered herself into it slowly, her knees barely holding her weight.

"I think you know why I called you here," Salvatore said, his voice calm, almost conversational, which somehow made it worse.

Michelle shook her head quickly. "I don’t know..."

"You know I hate liars," Salvatore said, "and I will shoot them right away." He let the words sit in the air for a moment before continuing. "I will give you a chance to pack your things and leave peacefully once you tell me whom you gave the information to."

Michelle’s breath caught, her whole body trembling even harder now. "Salvatore..."

"You know me," he said evenly. "I don’t play with my words. Give me names."

She sat there for a long moment, silence stretching thick between them, before a sob broke free from her throat. "They will destroy me."

"Tell me," Salvatore said, unmoved.

"If I tell you," Michelle whispered, her voice cracking, "he will send my photos and everything to my family. I... I don’t know what to do."

Salvatore leaned forward slightly, his gray eyes locking on hers, cold and unwavering. "You know. Your choice is your photos or your life now. Because I will not hesitate to shoot you if you make me lose my patience."

Michelle broke down completely then, tears streaming down her face, her shoulders shaking with the force of her crying. She had known coming into this room that she had no real choice, not anymore, but some small part of her had still hoped Salvatore wouldn’t know, that the walls of this mansion could keep a secret the way she’d needed them to. She realized now how foolish that hope had been.

"I will die now or later," she said finally, her voice hollow, resigned. "I’m fed up already. I never meant to give any information, but I’m too stupid and scared to refuse." She took a shuddering breath. "He is Manuel. But I’m sure he works with someone else. The only one I knew was Mack."

Roderick, who had been standing quietly near the door, straightened suddenly. "Manuel from the port?"

"Yes," Michelle said, nodding through her tears. "It was my mistake that we... we had a relationship. He was such a bastard. He collected our intimate conversations, my... photos and... and used them to threaten me."

She pressed a hand over her mouth, another sob escaping. "I’m really sorry. I liked working here. I never wanted to betray you... but..."

"How long have you been with him?" Salvatore asked, his voice still level, still giving nothing away.

"It was only a month," Michelle said. "We decided to break up a year ago. But he started to threaten me once you were here. He is the one who forced me to stay here when you gave us a chance to leave."

Salvatore’s eyes shifted to Roderick. "Do you know him?"

"Of course I know him," Roderick said, his jaw tight. "He never came here personally, but he was one of Niccolo’s guards who wanted to stay."

Salvatore’s expression darkened, something cold and final settling over his face. "Bring him to me. Anyone related to him. Bring them to me tonight."

Joe rose from the sofa without hesitation. "I will take care of it."

Michelle flinched as he walked past her toward the door, her whole body curling in on itself, terror written plainly across her face as she watched him leave.

Salvatore turned his attention back to her once Joe was gone, his voice softening only slightly. "You don’t need to worry about anything else. He will never give you any problems anymore." He paused, studying her tear-streaked face. "But I don’t want you to work for me anymore. And never mention anything outside the house if you really want to live peacefully."

Michelle nodded through her sobbing, pressing her sleeve against her wet cheeks. "Thank you," she managed to whisper.

"Pack your things by tomorrow morning," Salvatore said. "You will get your payment from Maureen."

Michelle nodded again and rose on unsteady legs, murmuring another quiet thank you before slipping out of the office, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Once she was gone, Salvatore turned his attention to Roderick, some of the tension easing from his shoulders now that the room had emptied. "Go home," he said. "Or you can sleep here."

Roderick crossed his arms. "No. I need to know what happened."

"No," Salvatore said, his tone sharpening slightly. "It’s too dangerous. It’s late. Decide if you’re sleeping here or going home."

Roderick stared at him, disbelief creeping into his expression. "Oh, seriously. Why are you acting like this? You left me today and now you’re pushing me away?"

"Trust me, Rod," Salvatore said, meeting his gaze steadily. "Go home."

"At least give me a reason," Roderick said, his voice edged with frustration now, the earlier patience from the driveway conversation clearly wearing thin.

Salvatore held his gaze for a long moment, something heavy and unspoken passing behind his eyes. "I can’t tell you anything right now."

Roderick opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He shook his head slowly, more hurt than angry now, and turned toward the door without another word, leaving Salvatore alone in the office.