I let out a slow breath. "I don’t owe you a goddamn thing, Marco." Then, after a pause, I added, "And for the record?" My voice dropped to a whisper, sharp as a blade.

"I know." Silence. I smiled, slow and cold. "I know your mistress killed my daughter that day." I could hear his breath hitch. "And I know you covered it up."

"Olivia—"

I hung up.

The phone buzzed again. And again. Desperate. Panicked. I turned it off. And as the plane took off, I closed my eyes and exhaled.

Let him panic. Let him drown in his own lies. Because this? This was just the beginning.