Cattleya's POV
ROME, ITALY
I couldn't help but wipe my tears with my bare hand. Then my driver slid open the van's door and said, "My condolences, Ms. Cattleya."
I bit my lower lip and walked down the aisle with a heavy heart, and as I looked around, everyone was dressed in black; I couldn't believe that it was really my twin sister's funeral.
But being here with relatives I barely know makes me feel suffocated. Whispers and forced sympathies fill the air, and each person gets on my nerves that I want them to be kicked away from my twin sister’s funeral, so they can have a place for their gossip.
I stare at Ariella’s smiling photos in the center and then I glanced down on the closed casket, a heavy oak barrier that will separate me with my sister forever.
“Ariella…” I said trying to stop myself from breaking down.
“Catt…” my mom walked towards me and I hugged her tightly, bursting into tears.
As the ceremony winds down, several of my twin sister's relatives and friends offer their condolences, but their questions about her cause of death remain unanswered.
Some people even said, "She was shot in the chest."
"What? Someone killed her on purpose?"
"I'm not sure, it might have been." the other lady said.
"Yes, three bullets were found in her room," the other person said.
I walked outside and saw my driver waiting for me, “Take me to Ariella’s condo.”
****
As I stepped into Ariella's condo, I was immediately struck by the chaos that seemed to echo my twin sister's personality. Her clothes were strewn across the floor, tissues littered every surface, and her desk was a jumble of papers and a coffee mug that still held a half-drunk cup of coffee.
Everything felt so sad that I couldn't even look at our lovely photos beside her side table. I softly sighed and closed my eyes, "What happened to you?"
While opening her drawer, I found a nightclub flier featuring a skull and a graphic depicting blood. I let out a gasp when I read the club's name and slowly dropped it on the floor. The worn paragraph of her with all her friends caught my eye, but I was anxious since behind them was a man whose face I didn't recognize. He has sharp features, and a cold glint in his eyes that exudes danger. I want to know him, maybe he’s one of my sister’s boyfriends or fling. I need to find this man.
With a sense of urgency, I unlocked my phone and dialed my personal assistant. "I need a private investigator, now!"
"Right now, Ms. Cattleya?" she asked with some doubt.
"Yes," I said, ending the call as I looked at the picture.
Then I sat down at my desk to look up the nightclub name on my twin sister's laptop, but I couldn't find it.
Right after that, my assistant texted me the private investigator's address. My chauffeur took me to the private detective's workplace. The moment I walked up to his door, he said gruffly, "Come in."
"I have a job for you," I said, staring him directly in the eyes.
“I’m Lew Maxwell. Nice to meet you—”
Then I opened my purse, took the worn out photograph and put it on his desk saying, “I want you to find this man.”
“Ms. Sullivan, you've come to the right place." He stood up with a smile on his face, then clicked his tongue as he added, "But some stories are better left buried."
"What did you just say to me?”
He picked up the photograph and stared at it for a minute, then said, “Jaxon Moretti.”
“You knew him?” My heart throbbed in surprise as I looked at him in confusion.
He nods his head, “I do. But Jaxon Moretti is no ordinary man, Ms. Sullivan.”
