Chapter 8
The next few days, the internet tore me apart.
The influencers posted their videos, full of righteous fury. The comment sections roasted me like I was the devil herself. Death threats poured into my social media. People called for my business to be shut down. A few of them showed up outside my building with signs.
I stayed inside. I didn’t answer my phone. I didn’t read the comments. I just waited.
I waited for Dominic to figure out the truth.
Then, one night, a story broke that shook the whole city.
Dominic Marretti’s wife and his uncle Vincent were found dead in Vincent’s house. Both of them shot. Execution style. Kneecaps first, then the head. The kind of hit that sends a message.
The news called it a revenge killing. Gang related, they said. A settling of scores. The police had no suspects.
But everyone knew. Everyone whispered. Everyone looked at Dominic.
The timing was too perfect. Evelyn and Vincent had humiliated him on a live stream watched by millions. They had made him look like a fool. And in Dominic’s world, looking like a fool was a death sentence.
No one said it out loud. No one dared. But everyone thought it. Dominic had ordered the hit. Or maybe he
had done it himself.
The internet exploded. Theories flew everywhere.
But then something else happened.
A video appeared on Evelyn’s personal account. It had been uploaded in the middle of the night, but it wasn’t live. It was pre-recorded. A final message. Posted after she was already dead.
It was her. She was sitting in a room I didn’t recognize. Her face was bruised. Her lip was split. She looked like she had been crying for hours. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold the phone.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, like she had been screaming. “I’m so sorry, Scarlett. None of it was true. None of it.”
She was crying now. Real tears. Not the act she had put on before. This was real fear.


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