Chapter 6The Target Wasn’t Me
940 Words
(Elara's POV)
“What’s wrong?” Matteo asks, staring at my emotionless face from the side.
I keep my gaze on the window still, sobbing hard within me.
I was pregnant with a child in my first life and I had died with him that night.
“It’s nothing,” I say, my voice steady.
Matteo doesn’t move. I can feel it, the hesitation, the instinct to push further.
“Make sure the call is traced,” I add, still not looking at him.
“It will be.” He says and moves away, but stops in his tracks. “Anything else?”
Now I turn, meeting his eyes. “I’ll handle the rest.”
He nods, then steps back without another word as the door closes behind him, leaving just me in the room.
I exhale slowly, then I close my eyes for a second. “They killed my child.”
The words come out barely above a whisper, but they land hard, even in an empty room.
My fingers curl slightly at my sides. “They didn’t want me gone,” I murmur. “They wanted the baby gone.”
It makes sense now. Every detail I ignored in my first life because I didn’t know what I was looking at.
My jaw tightens. “They never wanted me,” I continue quietly. “I thought they were family, but I was wrong.”
I breath hard. “But, who exactly is behind it?.”
My eyes open slowly, my reflection staring back at me from the glass.
“They’ll pay,” I say. “Every single one of them.”
Just then, my phone rings. I glance at the screen, picking it up.
Grandfather.
I answer. “Grandfather..”
“Elara.” He calls, a bit of excitement in his voice.
“You haven’t forgotten,” he continues, “about tomorrow evening.”
The gala.
I straighten slightly. “No,” I reply. “I’m getting ready for it.”
A quiet chuckle hums through the line. “Good,” he says. “Because tomorrow… you won’t just be attending.”
I don’t speak. I already know where this is going.
“I want you to steal the entire show,” he continues, his tone shifting. “Every eye in that room should be on you.”
“They will be,” I say, smiling.
“I’ll be announcing you,” he adds. “As the Virelli heiress.”
There's silence between us before I finally speak up. “Are you sure ?” I ask.
Not because I doubt him, but because I don’t move without understanding the full weight of a decision.
“I’ve been sure for years,” he replies. “I’m just done waiting.”
My gaze drifts back to everything I’ve built quietly. “I need a little more time,” I say.
He pauses. “Time for what?”
My lips curve slightly. “Time to finish what I started.”
He doesn’t ask what that means. Instead, he exhales slowly. “Don’t take too long,” he says. “Power is most effective when it’s seen. I will always wait for you, my granddaughter.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
“And Elara?”
“Yes?”
“When you walk into that room tomorrow,” he continues, “walk in as someone they can’t ignore.”
My grip tightens slightly around the phone.
“They won’t,” I reply.
The call ends.
I exhale. I don't want Dominic and Isabella to know my true identity yet, not when I'm at the verge of exposing their crimes.
I pick up my phone again and place a call across my driver. “Get the car ready,” I say the second the line connects.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The line clicks off. I grab my bag and head for the door.
Tomorrow? I'm setting the stage on fire and they won't be able to bear the heat.
*******
The Next Day…
The Virelli gala doesn’t begin quietly. The estate is alive by the time I step out of the car.
Every guest here matters, every name carries weight and tonight, so do I.
I step inside without hesitation and immediately I did, eyes shift.
Matteo falls into step behind me, silent as ever. “Your grandfather is waiting,” he murmurs.
I move through the room effortlessly, past conversations that pause just slightly as I pass, until I see him standing near the center, surrounded by people.
The Virelli chairman.
My grandfather.
His eyes find mine almost instantly and he smiles at me. I walk toward him and when I reach him, I step into his space and wrap my arms around him.
His hand settles against my back for a second. “There you are,” he says quietly, tapping my back gently.
Just then, Isabella enters and immediately she sees us, she gives a satisfying smile.
She puts her hand in her bag and brings out her phone. She lifts it, angles it and takes pictures of us stylishly, but I saw her.
Her lips curve slightly as she lowers the phone and walks away to a quieter alley in the hall.
I quickly follow her and hide behind the wall to listen to her.
She places a call across someone I believe to be Dominic.
“Yes?” Dominic Answers.
Her voice is smooth when she speaks. A poison wrapped in silk.
“I didn’t know your ex’s sugar daddy is the CEO of the Virelli’s corporation, check the pictures I sent.” Isabella says over the phone.
- Writer
