One Don, Two Faces

Chapter 5 - Isabella

If he expected me to stand there and be interrogated like I had no agency in this situation, then he had already made the wrong assumption.

My eyes landed on the warmer one.

Rafael.

He was still standing where I had first seen him, his posture no longer relaxed, his expression caught somewhere between realization and something almost irritated.

Good at least one of them looked affected.

“You,” I said, pointing at him without breaking eye contact. “Start talking.”

The room stilled.

I should have softened my expression, pretended to be confused, but I didn’t.

Once that kind of clarity settles in, there is no going back to pretending.

I could feel Dante’s attention shift, subtle but immediate, like he wasn’t used to being ignored in favor of anyone else. That alone almost made me smile.

Rafael pushed off the table slowly, running a hand through his hair as he let out a quiet exhale. Up close, I could smell that same faint trace of cologne, warm, clean and annoyingly familiar.

“What exactly do you want me to explain?” he asked, his voice lacking the ease I had heard before.

I let out a short laugh but I wasn't amused.

“Let’s start with the part where you let me believe I was dealing with one person,” I said, my tone sharp enough to cut through the room. “Or the part where you conveniently forgot entire conversations. Or maybe the part where you thought switching places was funny.”

His brows pulled together slightly. “I didn’t switch places,” he said.

That answer wasn't what I expected, not because of what he said but how he said it. He did not carefully choose his words; he just blurted it out.

He was so genuine that his face didn't hold the usual smirk, his face only held frustration.

“You’re telling me,” I continued, stepping closer, the polished floor cool beneath my heels, “that this,” I gestured between them, “was not planned?”

“It wasn’t,” he replied, his voice tightening slightly. “Not like that.”

I studied him closely, searching for the lie.

I didn’t find one and that made everything worse.

“Then explain why you didn’t correct it,” I said. “Explain why you let me walk around thinking I was losing my mind.”

Rafael’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering briefly toward Dante before returning to me.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he said.

For a second, I just stared at him.

Then I laughed again.

“That’s your defense?” I asked. “You didn’t think it mattered that I was being confused on purpose?”

“I didn’t think he would take it that far,” Rafael shot back, his voice rising slightly, frustration breaking through whatever control he had been holding onto. “I thought it would be obvious.”

“Obvious?” I repeated, incredulous. “You have the same face, the same voice, the same—”

“Not the same,” Dante cut in.

The interruption was calm but it landed like a command.

The room fell silent again, thick and suffocating, the kind that made every sound sharper. I could hear the faint hum of the lights above us, the distant murmur of voices from somewhere far down the hall, even the subtle shift of fabric as someone moved.

I turned slowly to face him again. He hadn’t changed position much, but something about him felt closer now.

“Then what exactly are you?” I asked, my voice lower now, but no less sharp.

His gaze didn’t waver.

“We are not the same man,” he said.

“That’s not what it felt like,” I replied immediately.

His expression didn’t change.

“That’s because you weren’t paying attention.”

The words struck me hard; they were very precise and he wasn't even loud or shouting.

Before I could respond, Clara’s soft laugh cut through the tension.

Of course she would enjoy this.

She stepped forward, the faint click of her heels measured, her perfume drifting through the air again.

“You’re taking this too personally,” she said, her tone smooth, almost amused.

I turned to her slowly.

“Am I?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied easily. “This isn’t about you.”

Something in my chest tightened.

“Then what is it about?” I asked.

“Strategy” she said simply. “The way things work here.”

Her eyes moved between the twins, then back to me.

“They don’t separate personal interest from business,” she continued. “It’s all the same to them observing behavior, understanding how people respond under pressure.”

Her lips curved slightly.

“You just happened to be interesting enough to test.”

The words sounded ugly to my ear like I was nothing more than a variable in an experiment.

I held her gaze, refusing to let the impact show.

“And you?” I asked. “What does that make you?”

Her smile didn’t falter. “Someone who understands how things work,” she replied.

I get her message clearly; I don't belong here, I am only temporary. She belongs here, not me.

The thought of it irritated me so much.

I needed that because emotion, uncontrolled emotion, was exactly what they expected from me right now.

And I refused to give them that.

I stepped back slightly, creating space, pulling myself out of whatever tension they were trying to trap me in.

“Fine,” I said, my voice calmer now, steadier. “You’ve made your point.”

Rafael frowned slightly.

“What point?” he asked.

“That you don’t think any of this matters,” I replied.

Dante watched me closely like he was trying to see past what I was saying into something deeper.

I turned away before he could because there were more important things to focus on.

Like the files I had been working on, the patterns I had already started to uncover. The fact that, while they had been busy playing whatever game this was, I had been doing my job.

And I was very good at my job.

By the time I returned to my office, the air felt different.

The faint scent of paper and polished wood filled my nostrils as I sat down, pulling the files back toward me, my focus narrowing in a way that shut everything else out.

This was what mattered not them or Clara.

Not whatever twisted dynamic they thought I would get lost in.

The numbers didn’t care about games and they didn’t lie.

It didn’t take long. I had already been close.

Now, with everything else stripped away, the pattern revealed itself fully.

A financial route buried beneath layers of legitimate transactions, linking shell companies to accounts that shouldn’t exist, moving money in a way that was too precise to be accidental.

This wasn’t just laundering, it's their structure of power.

And if it was exposed properly, it would hurt them badly.

My fingers hovered over my phone for a moment.

Then I sent a partial file not everything but a taste.

The response came faster than I expected.

Keep going, we're close.

My chest tightened slightly.

Close to what? Before I could think too much about it, the door opened behind me.

I didn’t turn immediately or I even didn’t need to.

I could feel it, that same cold aura that was always watching.

Dante.

“You work fast,” he said.

I turned slowly, meeting his gaze, keeping my expression neutral even as something in my chest shifted.

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

He stepped further into the room, his eyes flicking briefly to the files on my desk before returning to me.

“No,” he said. “It’s interesting.”

There was a pause.

Then

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he turned slightly, his attention shifting past me.

“Rocco.”

The name alone changed the atmosphere.

A second later, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind him.

Dante didn’t look back as he spoke.

“Keep an eye on her,” he said calmly.

My breath stilled and just as that realization settl

ed in, my phone buzzed softly against the desk.

I already knew.

When I finally looked down, the Don’s message was waiting.

You’re running out of time. Make your move.