Chapter 54

Aria's funeral was a subdued affair. The Wilson family had seen better days, and attendance was sparse. Only Nora and Mateo attended the graveside service; Zoe remained confined to her bed.

Tears streamed down Nora's face as she saw a woman emerge from a black luxury car. Her eyes, red and swollen, widened in anger. "It's you! You're the reason Aria is gone! How dare you show up like this? I'll make you pay!" she shouted.

Emma's striking deep red dress, sunglasses, and red lipstick were a deliberate statement, not an expression of grief. She typically wore black and white.

"I dressed this way on purpose, but I had nothing to do with Aria's death," Emma replied icily. "If you want someone to blame, go after Sebastian. Get your revenge and see where that gets you."

"Enough, Emma!" Mateo interjected, raising his hand as if to strike her. Her bodyguards intervened.

Emma sneered. "We are both your daughters. When Aria was causing me trouble, where were you?"

Mateo's response was muted. He knew he had been unjust to Emma, and guilt made him avoid her. He favored Aria. "Aria was always with me. She was closest to my heart. She was my daughter, not you," he said, his voice strained.

Emma felt a sharp pang of pain, but masked it with a mocking smile. "That's sad, because Aria never really saw you as her father."

Her words grew sharper. "You may have provided for her, but after her release, she couldn't even be bothered to call you. But, of course," she continued, her tone cold and detached, "the dead are beyond our reproach. Arguing about it is useless. She's gone, and she'll never have the chance to show you any gratitude."

Nora lunged at Emma, but the bodyguards restrained her.

Emma stood calmly, arms crossed, a cold smirk playing on her lips. Her expression, hidden behind sunglasses, remained a mystery, but the curve of her red lips hinted at chilling amusement. She stood tall and defiant. "Mateo, what a tragedy. Fate gave you two daughters, and yet you've lost them both. Now, you're left with nothing but this selfish, heartless woman by your side. You're going to pay for your faults!" With those final words, Emma turned and walked away.

Mateo hurled insults at her retreating figure. "You and your mother are nothing but monsters! I regret ever having anything to do with you!"

Nora's laughter rang out, sharp and unsettling. "Aria may be gone, but she knew our love for twenty years! Your mother, on the other hand, never saw a good day. She suffered a thousand times more than Aria. I was the one who killed her! I messed with her medication, taunted her, and pushed her toward suicide. I watched her jump!"

A scream shattered the laughter. "My arm, my hand… it hurts! Someone help!"

Emma seemed a vengeful spirit, her mind consumed by raw malice. The air hung heavy with the scent of blood. Mateo stood frozen with fear. "How dare you—"

"Since you've confessed to killing my mother, that's perfect. I won't let you die quickly. I'll tear you apart. Today it's the arm, tomorrow it might be more. I'll take you apart piece by piece!" Nora was in agony, her right arm a bloody mess.

Emma watched as Nora squirmed, then, with a powerful kick, sent her sprawling onto Aria's grave. Nora screamed, striking the ground, and slipped off the tombstone, leaving a smear of blood.

Back at the Icovine Estate, Liam found the atmosphere heavy. He had offered to accompany Emma to the cemetery, but she'd insisted on going alone. He sensed something was terribly wrong.

In the wine cellar, Emma sat slumped over, clutching a glass, half a bottle of whiskey already consumed. "Aren't you happy?" Liam asked softly.

"Yes, I am. Because Aria is dead," Emma responded.

Liam saw her drunkenness – flushed cheeks, a smile, but eyes revealing profound loneliness. Compelled by her sadness, he gently stroked her head.

Emma broke down when he touched her. "Today, I found out my mother died because Nora deliberately messed with her meds. Damn it! Why didn't I realize sooner? I just can't accept that!"

She found a way to move on, but her mother would never return. Even a hundred deaths for Aria and Nora wouldn't bring her back.

Liam cradled her, her body limp from alcohol, her defenses down.

"Liam, I'm not a good person," Emma confessed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "But I want to be a good daughter and a good wife."

Her hands were stained. If killing Nora could bring her mother back, she wouldn't hesitate. Even without that possibility, she craved revenge.

Liam took her hand. "I don't need a 'good' person or a 'good' wife. I just need you, Emma," he said, kissing her forehead. Emma closed her eyes, her senses dulled.

As Liam carried her upstairs, she murmured, "Don't worry about me. Go on ahead…"

Liam's brow furrowed. Her next words chilled him. "I like you… I don't deserve you… I'm not good enough for you," she slurred, half-asleep.