Chapter 137: Chapter-137. (A Reality Check).
He spread his hands innocently, "Let’s call it an act of goodwill. Besides, it’s better if the person who actually owns the Kingsley estate knows she does. It’ll make things easier later."
"Easier? For what? I did not even want to stay here anymore." This was the truth.
He didn’t answer right away, just looked at me for a long, quiet moment. It was the kind of stare that made me feel like he was reading every thought that crossed my mind.
Finally, he said after a while, "You will see soon enough, but for now, let’s just say this. You have got more leverage than you think, Elena. Against your husband, your family... even me."
I hated how calm he was.
I hated how part of me believed him.
My hands were trembling slightly as I closed the folder.
For a long moment, I didn’t speak. My head was full of questions, anger, and the taste of betrayal still raw on my tongue.
All this time, I thought I was the one being pitied...the quiet wife, the forgotten daughter, the girl who lost everything to other people’s choices.
But now... now I saw that maybe I had never really been powerless. I had just been blind.
Matteo’s voice cut through my thoughts again, soft but deliberate. "You know what’s interesting?"
I looked up warily, not knowing what was coming ahead in this parade of mystery revelations, "What?"
"The Morrises buried a scandal to protect their name. The Kingsleys buried a will to protect their greed. And here you are tied to both."
The irony hit hard. I forced out a shaky laugh, "So what does that make me?"
He smiled faintly, "The only one who can burn them both down. Or get crushed under their weight."
The words hung between us like smoke coming out of his cigar...dangerous, and intoxicating. I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t look away either.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe for the first time, I finally held the match in my hands.
The weight of it was heavier than I expected, yet it felt empowering.
Dangerous? Yes, but also freeing.
I could feel the heat of it in my palms, the potential to ignite change, to rewrite the rules that had held me captive for so long.
Matteo leaned back in his chair, the soft creak of leather punctuating the silence between us.
His eyes were calm, calculating, but there was an edge to them. Just like a sharpness that reminded me I was not dealing with someone ordinary. Which, of course, was a fact, and I was very fully aware of it.
Living in this power-thirsty world had made him always understand power in a way no one else had. And right now, he was giving me a glimpse of it.
"You could take control," he said quietly, almost lazily, as if testing the waters.
"Not just of your life, Elena... but of everything that has been unfair to you. Every asset, every influence, every piece of what is legally yours. It could all be in your name."
My breath got caught in my lungs.
I blinked at him, unsure if I had heard correctly. The folder in my hands suddenly felt heavier.
My heart raced, but my mind spun faster. Matteo’s words were not just an idea. They were a blueprint, a key to everything I had lost.
I shook my head quickly, almost in disbelief, "That... that’s not right," I whispered out.
"They would be left with nothing. My family... they would be homeless. They are my family. I can’t do that to them." The words came out abruptly.
Matteo smiled faintly, almost amused, but there was a coldness behind it that sent a chill down my spine, "Are they?" he asked quietly, almost teasingly.
"Are they really your family?" He completed.
I froze, the words catching me off guard. I had expected many things from him...manipulation, advice, danger, but not this.
A reality check.
A freaking reality check.
His tone did not change as he continued, "Think about it, Elena. If they were truly your family... where were they when you needed them?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a hand, stopping me.
"Where were they when you needed them? Did they even try to find you when you disappeared?" His gaze sharpened at every question.
I swallowed, my throat tight, and he pressed on mercilessly.
"When false accusations were thrown at you... Did they defend you? Did they even lift a finger when Josh hurt you, trapped you, tortured you?"
The room felt smaller with each question, the weight of his words pressing down on me.
The name hit like a dagger.
I clenched the folder tighter, the leather creaking under my grip. Memories I had tried to suppress surged forward in a flood.
Those long, dark days when no one had come to my aid, when every door seemed closed, every voice silent.
I thought of the accusations I got.
The betrayal wasn’t just from strangers; it was from those I had trusted, those I had called family.
My so-called family.
Matteo’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts again. "If they were your family, they would have acted."
I flinched, but he did not let me respond.
"Instead, they stayed silent," he continued, his voice rising slightly, but controlled.
"They let it all happen without lifting a finger. You were accused of things you didn’t even do. And while you suffered... what? Did they sit comfortably at home? Enjoy the story? Protect appearances over the truth?"
I felt a shiver run down my spine as each word landed, heavier than the last, and my throat tightened in ways I couldn’t stop.
I swallowed hard, my lips pressed together. The bitter truth settled deep in my chest. Matteo’s words cut through years of denial, piercing the veil I had worn to protect myself.
And then it became clear.
Every time my parents had sidelined me, every time they favored my brother, Gregory, who never asked for it.
They had made their choice.