Chapter 4: The Past Is a Weapon
1093 Words
Chapter 4: The Past Is a Weapon
The next morning, rain tapped against the floor-to-ceiling windows like a warning.
Dante stood in the kitchen, watching coffee drip into a mug with clenched fists and a head full of war. Isabelle hadn’t left the guest room all night. Not that he blamed her. The truth they had unearthed—the betrayal, the footage, Victor’s plans—it was enough to unravel any soul.
But not hers.
No, Isabelle Raze didn’t unravel.
She sharpened.
He could feel it in her silence. The way she stood taller, moved quieter. She wasn’t breaking.
She was preparing.
And that scared him more than any gunshot ever had.
---
“Dante,” she said softly from behind him.
He turned. She was dressed in black jeans, a loose white blouse, her hair tied up, makeup gone. She looked older today. Like she'd lived ten years overnight.
“We need to talk about Luca,” she said.
Dante’s jaw tightened.
He handed her the coffee without a word and sat across from her at the table.
She took a slow sip, then set the mug down. Her fingers trembled slightly. “I was seventeen when Victor arranged it. The engagement.”
“To Luca Moretti,” Dante said bitterly. “The snake in a suit.”
She nodded. “It was all about power. Moretti had docks. Victor had control. Marriage meant alliance.”
“And you?”
“I was a bargaining chip. Dressed in white, gifted like a diamond, and left to rot in a penthouse I couldn’t leave.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, but she didn’t pause.
---
Six Years Ago – Flashback
The Raze Estate, Private Lounge
“I’m not wearing that,” Isabelle snapped, flinging the designer gown across the velvet chaise. “I’m not a porcelain doll for Victor to sell.”
Luca Moretti smirked from where he leaned against the piano, a glass of red wine in hand. He was twenty-four, perfectly groomed, cruelly handsome. Eyes too cold. Smile too smooth.
“You should be grateful,” he said. “Do you know how many women would kill to wear the Moretti name?”
“I’d rather die than carry it.”
He chuckled darkly. “That could be arranged.”
She turned her back on him.
And he grabbed her wrist.
“You belong to me now, Isabelle. It’s been decided.”
She slapped him.
Silence fell.
He didn’t flinch. Just licked the blood from his lip and smiled wider.
“I like you,” he said. “Feisty.”
“Go to hell,” she spat.
“You first.”
---
Present Day
Isabelle’s voice was steady as she finished. “The next day, Victor locked me in my wing. Said I’d embarrassed the family. That if I disobeyed again, I’d lose my tongue.”
Dante’s hands clenched into fists.
“He sold you,” he muttered.
She nodded. “I lasted two more months. Then I wrote to Matteo. He was the only person I thought might listen.”
Dante leaned forward. “Did Luca know you reached out to my brother?”
“I thought I hid it well. But someone leaked it. A housemaid, maybe. That’s when Victor brought the punishment.”
She looked up, eyes hollow.
“That’s when Matteo died.”
---
Dante stood and walked to the window, fury simmering just beneath his skin.
He had always known Victor Raze was cruel. But this was deeper. This was blood-soaked politics masked as family duty. It was a level of rot that didn’t just stain a man—it bred monsters.
And Luca was part of it.
“He’s still in the game,” Dante said. “Moretti never left.”
“He didn’t have to,” Isabelle replied. “He just waited. Like a vulture.”
Dante turned back to her. “Then we draw him out.”
She blinked. “How?”
“By feeding him the same poison he served.”
---
That Afternoon – Safehouse War Room
Dante spread the Raze files across the table. Isabelle stood beside him, pointing to the offshore transfers.
“Luca’s money moves in cycles,” she said. “Every 90 days, a clean shell buys property in his name.”
Dante nodded. “That means he’s still active. Still moving product.”
“And the last property?”
She pointed to a new entry.
> Buyer: SEA GLASS GROUP, INC.
Property: 45 Beacon Hill, Atlantic City
“A casino front,” she said. “One of Victor’s laundering networks. Newly acquired.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Then he’ll be there.”
She hesitated. “You can’t just walk in.”
“I’m not going to,” he said. “You are.”
Her head snapped toward him. “What?”
“You show up—alive, unscathed, off Victor’s leash? He’ll take the bait.”
“And then what?”
“You get close. Find out what Victor has planned next. And we burn it all.”
She exhaled slowly. “You’re asking me to walk into a lion’s den.”
“No,” Dante said. “I’m asking you to finish what Matteo started.”
Her lips parted.
Then she nodded.
“I’ll do it.”
---
Later That Night – The Balcony
Rain still fell, softer now. A mist over the city.
Dante lit another cigarette, back to the door, shirt loose, hair damp. He could hear her footsteps before she even spoke.
“Do you ever sleep?” Isabelle asked.
“Only when I dream of killing your brother.”
She came to stand beside him. “Then you must never sleep at all.”
They were quiet.
Then she said, “I didn’t tell you everything.”
He glanced sideways. “About Luca?”
She nodded. “He didn’t just want power. He wanted control. Over me. He… left scars. That no one ever saw.”
Dante’s grip tightened on the railing.
“I’m telling you because if I go back, and he tries again—”
“I’ll kill him,” Dante said.
Their eyes locked.
“No hesitation?” she asked.
“None.”
She stepped closer, so close he could feel her breath. “And if I betray you?”
He didn’t move.
“I’ll kill you too.”
She nodded once. “Fair.”
Then, without warning, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Then let’s kill them first.”
- Writer
