Make Them Regret It Chapter 33
I had planned to return to Boston with my grandmother.
But when I passed the family archives, I stopped.
The files from Isabella’s interrogation were still on the table.
The maid’s testimony, the statements from the three hired men, the guards’ admission that they had deliberately refused to open the door—every page was there.
Beside them lay another, older case file.
It recorded how a missing document had been found in my bag, and how I had been sentenced to thirty lashes.
In the field labeled “Executor,” it said: Colton DeLuca.
I flipped to the end. There was no record of the case ever being overturned.
Isabella had confessed, but the charge that I had “stolen a family document” still stood in the Romano family records.
And for the charade that had cost five lives, only Isabella and her hired help had been punished.
The men who had made the decision to lock us in that chapel had never faced a formal trial.
They had cried. They had expressed regret. They had resigned their posts. They had knelt at graves and begged for forgiveness.
But that was not a punishment.
That was just them finally learning what pain felt like.
I gathered the files and went to see the new head of the family.
“I want to submit a formal complaint to the family council.”
He looked at the names on the petition and was silent for a long time.
Antonio Romano.
The two Romano sons.
Colton DeLuca of the DeLuca family.