When I heard Aryana’s shout, I increased my pace and reached my bedroom, throwing it open without care. In front of Aryana was Alfonso with five guns aimed at his head while his rifle was lowered to the ground. His face was whitened in terror as he took in the situation before looking at me.
“Why?” That was all I wanted to know. Having suspected the traitor to be Alfonso, my veins had burned with fury, but now seeing him and catching him red-handed, I felt weary.
“Why?” I repeated. “After all my father did for you?”
Immediately I said that his face turned red with anger. “After all he’s done for me? What has he done for me?” He shouted.
“Everything that should have been mine he gave to you!”
I was confused. What was he talking about?
“I had served as his right-hand man for so many ye
