Afterwards, the eldest son, Cade, became heir, and Renzo seemed to vanish into thin air. It took me a long, exhausting search to learn the truth.
On the day the Olivers ‘mourned,’ Cade had murdered his own brother to secure the inheritance.
“Phoebe, give it up. You’ll never see him again,” Cade said, standing unafraid and sneering. His voice was cold and certain. “I buried him alive. I burned him to ash. I didn't even write his name in his tombstone or light a candle for him.”
“You’ll rot for this, Cade!” I snapped, blood burning behind my eyes. “Aren’t you afraid of karma? He wanted nothing, didn’t plan to compete with you. Why couldn’t you leave him alone?”
Seeing blood running freely down Cade’s head, people helped him away from the scene, steadying him as he left. They also pushed my wheelchair. But suddenly, a knife flashed toward me.
“Phoebe! You dare hurt Cade? I’ll kill you!” Margaret lunged, no longer saintly.
But clumsy as she was, she missed and tumbled to the floor.
Despite her attempt to stab me, I had her set free and simply ignored her.