Page 132 of Auctioned Innocence
“Sofia—”
“He never loved me,” she whispers. “Never loved any of us. Every Christmas morning, every birthday party, every time he called me his ‘little treasure’—it was all just research. Just more evidence to collect.”
I pull her against me as she breaks down, her body shaking with silent sobs. The woman who faced down armed killers without flinching is destroyed by the revelation that her childhood was built on lies.
“Look at this folder,” she says after a moment, pulling herself together with visible effort. She points to a file labeled “Sofia—Asset Development and Vulnerabilities.” “He’s been studying me. My habits, my relationships, my psychological profile. There are notes about how to manipulate me through emotional leverage.”
The clinical nature of it makes my stomach turn. Lorenzo reducing the little girl who trusted him to data points and weaknesses to exploit.
“And this,” she continues, opening another folder that makes my blood run cold. “‘Post-Tribunal Asset Distribution.’ He’s already dividing up our territory. Our businesses. Ourpeople. Look—he’s assigned himself control of the shipping operations and the East Coast security contracts.”
“He’s been planning this since you were a child,” I realize, the full scope of his betrayal becoming clear. “This was never just about revenge for Marco being chosen as heir. It was about positioning himself to take over everything when the family fell.”
Sofia scrolls through more files, her face growing paler with each revelation. “Here—communications with Viktor going back two years. With Dominic back eighteen months. He didn’t just react to Anthony’s arrest, hehelped orchestratethe entire network rebuilding.”
She opens a video file that makes us both go still. It’s Lorenzo in what appears to be a private meeting, speaking directly to the camera.
“For the Council’s consideration,” his recorded voice says with chilling calm. “The evidence you’ll see demonstrates a pattern of reckless behavior that threatens the stability we’ve all worked to maintain. The Renaldi family has become a liability that can no longer be ignored or managed through traditional channels.”
The video cuts to surveillance footage—Sofia’s rescue from the auction house, the warehouse raid, even our escape from the cabin. Every moment of violence, every casualty, every dramatic action taken out of context to look like unprovoked aggression.
“He made us look like terrorists,” Sofia says quietly. “Every person we saved, every life we protected—he’s framed it as evidence that we’re out of control.”
The weight of it settles over us like a shroud. Lorenzo hasn’t just betrayed Sofia’s trust—he’s systematically demolished any chance her family has of surviving tomorrow’s tribunal.
“There’s more,” she says, opening what appears to be a personnel file. “He’s got detailed profiles on every family member, every ally, every asset. Psychological evaluations, financial vulnerabilities, personal relationships that could be exploited. Look—he’s got a whole section on Marco’s protective instincts regarding me, with recommendations on how to use that against him.”
I scan the files, each one a violation of trust so profound it makes me want to put my fist through the wall. “He’s turned your family’s love for each other into weapons against you.”
“Fifteen years,” Sofia repeats, and there’s something broken in her voice that tears at my chest. “Fifteen years of sitting at our dinner table, celebrating our victories, comforting us through losses—all while planning our destruction.”
She closes the laptop with shaking hands, unable to look at any more evidence of Lorenzo’s betrayal. When she looks at me, her eyes are red but fierce.
“He thinks he knows me,” she says, her voice gaining strength. “Thinks he understands my weaknesses, my patterns, how to predict my behavior.”
“Sofia—” I try again but she cuts me off.
“He’swrong.” She stands, moving to the weapons cache we’ve assembled. “He studied the little girl who trusted him. Who loved him unconditionally. Who believed family was sacred.”
She checks her pistol, the motion grounding her.
“That little girl is dead,” she continues, her voice cold as winter steel. “He killed her the day he decided to sell me to Viktor. What he doesn’t understand is what rose from those ashes.”
She meets my eyes, and I see something that makes my blood sing with fierce pride. Not the broken victim of Lorenzo’s betrayal, but something harder. More dangerous.
“He wants to use my family’s love against them?” She slides fresh magazines into her bulletproof vest. “Let’s see how well his psychological profiles hold up when I burn his entire fucking network to the ground.”
My phone buzzes. Mario.
“Status report,” I answer, my eyes never leaving my girl.
“Estate’s under pressure. Lorenzo’s men are testing the defenses, probing for weaknesses.” Mario’s voice is low. “But that’s not why I’m calling. We’ve got?—”
A crash downstairs cuts him off.
Sofia’s already moving. But I catch her arm before she can head toward the stairs.
“I can’t lose you,” I say roughly, the weight of everything we’ve just learned making the words desperate. “Not to him. Not after seeing what he’s capable of. Not when I know how much you mean to me.”
