My gaze drifted toward the estate's private gallery. That room had once held my mother's life's work: countless jewelry design manuscripts, along with the brand's irreplaceable collection of vintage raw gemstone samples. They were the testament to everything she'd built, year after year, from a young woman to an old one, pouring her soul into a jewelry empire.
Every time I looked at those manuscripts and stones, I felt she'd never really left. She was still beside me, helping me guard her dream.
Then one morning two years ago, all of it vanished. The manuscripts. The gemstones. Gone without a trace. The police investigated and concluded that everything had been anonymously destroyed. No leads.
I'd broken down completely. Samuel held me for three days and three nights without closing his eyes, murmuring comfort, promising he'd recover everything. He swore he'd protect my mother's legacy.
Now I finally understood. The one who destroyed it all had always been him. He was the one who'd obliterated the last thing my mother left me, who'd severed the final thread connecting me to her.
The tablet screen lit up again. A new encrypted message appeared, driving through my last shred of hope like an ice-tipped blade:
"Godfather, per your instructions, the asset transfer agreement has been drafted. All Sicily jewelry holdings under your name—including the raw gemstone veins, the jewelry ateliers, and the international distribution rights—will be transferred in full to Miss Blanc."
"Awaiting your final signature."
Through the blur of tears, I saw it again: my mother's funeral. Samuel in a somber, immaculate black suit, standing before her casket, making his solemn vow to me.
"Lois, I swear on my honor as the Godfather of Sicily's jewelry empire. I will protect you for the rest of my life. I will give you a safe and stable home. Everything under my name is yours."
How laughable. How bitterly ironic.
Those earnest promises had been nothing but another carefully woven lie.
Samuel, did you forget? Those assets once belonged to me. Without my signature, I'd love to see how Selene Blanc plans to get her hands on any of it.