The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 183

“If I’d known things would end up like this, I never should have pushed you to marry her.”

“Do you really think…” Franco’s voice was as cold as always, but there was something fierce beneath it, a sharp edge that made Adelaide’s heart skip. “You really think you could have forced me?”

Adelaide stared at him, stunned. Her eyes seemed ready to storm.

“What did you just say?”

Franco’s expression barely changed, only a shadow crossing his brow. He stood, picked up his coat from the arm of the chair, and walked toward the door.

Adelaide called after him, desperate now. “Why have you spent all these years digging into the Lane family? What exactly are you trying to find?”

He stopped at the door, one palm braced against it while his other hand squeezed the coat hard enough to leave marks across his knuckles. His jaw was clenched tight.

“Nothing,” he said.

He left without looking back, pulling the door open and walking out.

Outside, Jay was already waiting, holding the car door open. Franco tossed his coat into the car and slid into the back seat. He let his head fall back against the leather, his long fingers pressing the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted, the kind of tired that sits deep in your bones.

The car drifted away from The White Estate, heading straight for Misty Vale.

“Don’t let anything leak to Adelaide,” Franco said from the back.

Jay nodded. “Understood, Franco.”

But then Jay hesitated. “Are you really planning to hide this from Adelaide forever?”

Franco didn’t answer at first. He just watched the night blur by outside the window. “She couldn’t take it,” he finally said, soft and definite.

Jay let the question die, focusing on the road. That’s when Franco’s phone rang, the shrill sound slicing through the silence. Franco checked the name on the screen, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he just held the phone in his hand, letting it ring out.

A few seconds, then Jay’s own phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen. Petty.

So that’s who Franco had ignored. He looked up, waiting for instructions. “Franco, it’s Petty. Should I answer?”

The headlights caught Petty’s face. Her hair whipped in the wind. She looked almost ghostly, pale and thin, like she might shatter if the wind blew any harder.

Franco’s cigarette tumbled from his fingers, sparks scattering across the floor and burning out just as quickly.

He lifted his gaze, staring through the darkness at Petty in the headlights. His hands clenched so tight, his knuckles were white, the sound of them creaking echoing in the silence.

Adelaide’s question echoed in his mind. Why was he investigating the Lane family?

He couldn’t remember when he’d started. It was so long ago. Back when Adelaide was just a kid.

What was he searching for?

Proof that the Lane family was innocent.

He’d lost his parents as a child, and all these years… he’d been hoping for evidence that those blamed for it—the Lane family—were not guilty.

It was ridiculous, shameful, unforgivable… hoping against hope that the Lane family was innocent.