Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 118: More Reveals II

Gianna frowned at Sandro’s words, at the implication threaded through them.

What was going on? Who sent who what?

The questions crowded her mind all at once. She saw the same confusion mirrored on her best friend’s face, then reflected again on the faces of the others scattered around the living room.

Sandro sighed, a tired breath pushed slowly from his mouth when he realized Zane wasn’t going to defend himself, wasn’t going to offer a single explanation—just as he had suspected earlier and said before their expedition.

Good thing he had followed him.

"From an anonymous texter," Sandro said at last, voice steady despite the heaviness in his eyes, "but Antonio was behind it. He and Herbert."

Gianna’s jaw slackened.

She barely registered Athena staggering back at the mention of that name—one of her greatest nemeses, the chief one, if there was one, among the living.

"How..." Athena stammered, her face draining of color.

Ewan was there instantly. She felt him behind her before she fully knew his movement, his arm sliding firmly around her waist, grounding her.

He guided her gently toward one of the sofas where old Mr. Thorne and Florence sat. They made space immediately, Florence reaching out to clasp her granddaughter’s hands in both of hers.

"He is behind bars, my dear..." Florence murmured, offering the words meant to comfort.

Athena nodded weakly, hating herself a little for still being terrified of someone that vile.

Sandro started toward another sofa, but when he noticed Zane remained rooted in place, unmoving, he threw an arm over the latter’s shoulder and physically turned him toward the seat.

He patted his back the way men did, as if to say take heart, even where there was none to be found.

"Sandro," old Mr. Thorne asked, steel settling into his eyes and posture, "how did you find that out?"

The old man looked ready to act—to do what was necessary, as he had before.

He hated that his family was being threatened again. Hated the tension choking the space between two people he regarded as close as his own grandchild.

And hated, above all, that Herbert was being flung back into their lives once more—the evil fellow and his apprentice.

Sandro inhaled softly. "We went to see Antonio... after making the connection that Herbert might have something to do with the accidents that claimed the lives of Gianna’s parents... and child."

Spider reached for Gianna’s hands then, enclosing them in his hand when he noticed they were shaking.

Chelsea caught it too.

"Gianna," she said gently, beckoning, "please come sit here..."

You might fall off with more revelations went unspoken, but her eyes conveyed it clearly.

Trying hard—and failing harder—to quell the tremor rippling through her body, Gianna trudged toward the indicated seat.

The moment she sat down between Areso and Chelsea, both women clasped one of her hands, offering silent comfort, bracing her for the storm still gathering.

Sandro cleared his throat before continuing. "He confirmed it. Said Herbert’s rage was triggered after he met with Gianna’s parents—trying to buy them into canceling the marriage."

Gianna’s mouth opened in a soundless what? Her fingers tightened instinctively in her friends’ hands.

The devil had met her parents?

Why hadn’t they told her?

"I’m sure they didn’t want to involve Gianna," Sandro went on, voice measured, "didn’t want to dampen her mood..."

"The first time—"

Gianna’s brows shot up.

There was a first time? A second?

"The Aldos turned him down. The second meeting, he doubled it. According to Antonio, the money was in the millions... but the couple still didn’t agree. Instead, Gianna’s father came prepared... with a recording device. He threatened Herbert. Threatened to go to the police."

Gianna shut her eyes as pain tore through her chest. She could already see the cogs grinding in Herbert’s mind, could picture the cold resolve forming—to wipe her family out entirely.

Her parents couldn’t have known the respectable businessman wasn’t respectable at all. She hadn’t known either. Not until the Grey Virus incident.

"So," Sandro continued, "he organized the accident. But first, he needed to cancel the wedding. He had Antonio create doctored images, documents, recordings—Gianna supposedly telling a friend that when she married Zane, she’d do this and that... that she didn’t love him at all. That he was only a means to an end."

Sandro touched Zane lightly on the thigh.

Slowly, Zane produced a phone—one Gianna noticed was different from the one he usually used.

"Zane kept one of the pictures," Sandro muttered. "Something to keep the hate burning, I guess..."

Gianna caught the way Zane flinched at that. His head remained bowed.

When the phone reached her, she found herself staring at herself.

She searched the image desperately—angles, shadows, anything she could cling to, something she could use to blame Zane for being naïve, for not seeing through it.

But the picture was just her. Convincing. Clean.

It wasn’t until it reached Spider, until he began pointing out the inconsistencies, the digital fractures, that she understood.

Technology would be the end of man. She mused in annoyance.

A double-edged sword—and in the hands of the wicked, the evil edge would always be sharpened.

"Packed with the recordings and everything... Zane, well—" Sandro paused. "He left."

Another pause.

"But that wasn’t enough for Herbert. When he confirmed Zane wouldn’t be attending the wedding, he flagged off the second stage of the plan."

Gianna’s chest tightened.

"The accident," Sandro said quietly. "That’s what happened." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

A slight pause, heavier than the last.

"Also... to note—your uncle, Gianna, was aware of it."

She lifted her head sharply, eyes snapping to Sandro’s in disbelief.

"What?"

Sandro shrugged.

"Clement found out later, at an elite club they frequented. He threatened Herbert with the truth—wanted money actually. Herbert paid him generously. What saved Clement was his relationship with one of the club’s patrons."

Ewan frowned.

"What club are we talking about?"

"Antonio didn’t give a name," Sandro replied. "Said he wasn’t really affiliated with those people. Mostly state elites. Powerful men. He didn’t know the patron who protected Clement either."

"Beckett?"

The name slipped from Gianna’s lips before she could stop it—memories rushing back of her uncle threatening her job, telling her if she didn’t sign over her shares to her cousin, he would have Arthur sack her.