Martin couldn't immediately process what he was reading. He was still holding the DNA test result—proof that his wife, Sharlene, was also his cousin.
"Hold up, you two," Lawrence said calmly, noticing the rising tension between Justine and Martin.
He looked between the two men and sighed.
"You both need to calm down. Justine, your temper's flaring now that you've finally found what you've been looking for all this time. We may come from different clans, but our goal is the same—to uncover who's truly behind all this." His tone was firm but composed.
Justine stayed quiet, seated across from him. His mind was still processing everything—especially the shocking connection between Sheila and Raymundo. Martin, meanwhile, was still reeling from Justine's earlier statement about their relationship.
Damn, the karma you're facing now, Martin... can you even handle it? he asked himself silently.
But that was just part of it. His biggest concern was still his daughter—Ashley. How could he save her? How could he return her soul to her body?
He turned his attention back to Lawrence.
If he remembered correctly, there had been a massacre in the Martinez family—supposedly due to a robbery. But it always struck him as strange. Everyone in that household, even the staff, had been killed.
He sighed heavily. His father had always been suspicious of the Santiago family—especially Raymundo. And aside from being the heir to the Francisco clan, his father had always harbored a personal mission: to dig up secrets and expose them through media.
But what his father uncovered wasn't just danger—it was the deep, rotting stench of something buried and sinister in the Santiago lineage. His father had warned him to stay away from that family, convinced that getting entangled in their affairs would lead only to disaster.
And yet here I am now, Martin thought, talking to another clan head.
Martin looked back at the two men. Justine was watching him intently.
"Lawrence, what else did my brilliant wife tell you? Is there anything else I need to know?" Martin asked.
"Wife?" Justine scoffed with a laugh. "Aren't you two over already?"
"Shut up. We haven't separated yet, so Sharlene is still my wife," Martin retorted.
"You should know that, since you're a lawyer, Justine."
Justine just gave him a knowing smile.
"Justine, please—not now. This isn't personal," Lawrence interjected, trying to defuse the tension.
"Sharlene didn't tell me much today," Lawrence continued. "But during our last conversation, we went through her entire background. That's when we discovered some documents she found in the mansion that once belonged to my aunt Leah's family—now owned by the Rosarios. That place was the site of a horrifying murder."
"That massacre happened decades ago," Martin muttered with a sigh.
"What did you find out, Mr. Francisco?" Justine pressed. "I heard your dad was a journalist and editor-in-chief back then—used his skills to expose people, right?"
"Yeah, he was. He knew a lot, but he kept it from us," Martin replied.
"Smart man. He knew his limits," Lawrence said quietly.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Justine added. "Especially since your dad's friend probably knew the whole story but kept quiet out of fear of the Santiago family."
"Anyway," Lawrence sighed, "we all suspect who's behind the chaos we're in now. The question is, how do we link everything together?"
Martin paused. A thought came to him. He looked at both men.
"I don't know if you'll believe me," he said slowly, "but did you know Sharlene's foster grandmother had... an ability?"
"What ability?" Justine asked, confused.
"It sounds crazy, but it might help us understand what's happening—especially you, Lawrence. You and Sharlene are both connected to Leah Martinez."
Lawrence furrowed his brow. "How is Sharlene connected to this?"
"Okay," Justine jumped in, "Leah Martinez was the wife of Frederick Manuel Santiago. He was also the brother of Carmela Geraldine Santiago-Gonzalez—Sharlene's mother. So how are they connected?"
"I remember something Sharlene told me long ago," Lawrence said thoughtfully. "She used to dream about Leah's death—how she was buried alive and suffered."
"Justine," Lawrence turned to him, "have you found anything at Angely's house?"
"Not yet. I haven't focused on it," Justine admitted.
"You mentioned that the Atienza property—where the mansion stands—was Leah's burial site?" Martin asked.
"Yeah, Vivianne knows that," Lawrence replied.
Vivianne... Martin thought. His mind drifted again to his daughter. He was getting frustrated. Everything felt like a loop—they suspected Raymundo Santiago, but there was still no solid proof.
"Sheila Atienza might be our only hope," Lawrence finally said.
Justine and Lawrence exchanged glances.
"You figure it out, Martin," Justine said dryly.
"No. You stand firm—you can manipulate her," Martin shot back.
"Stop," Lawrence interrupted. "The Atienzas and Rosarios are involved. We need their help."
"The question is—will they cooperate? And how the hell do I explain to Sharlene that we're related?" Justine sighed.
"She's a good listener. If you explain it well, she'll understand," Martin reassured him.
It was true. After five years with Sharlene, he knew her well.
"Yes," Lawrence agreed. "She'll understand. Don't worry about her. She's got a lot on her mind—especially about her baby girl—but she always listens. In fact, she's particularly interested in my cousin."
How could Sharlene not be interested? Leah took my daughter's soul, Martin thought bitterly.
He glared at Justine, who was now smirking again—clearly enjoying his discomfort.