Chapter 2 -; The King Of Rome
1264 Words
ADRIANO POV
Dante Moretti was supposed to be dead.
At least, that was what I had told myself for the last six hours. Now I was sitting across from his daughter, watching her stare at me as though I were the man responsible for putting a bullet through her father's chest.
Perhaps I deserved the look.
I had known Dante was in danger. For three days, I'd known someone was hunting him, and I'd been trying to find him before they did. What I hadn't expected was for him to disappear before I could reach him, and I certainly hadn't expected his daughter to become part of the mess.
The car moved silently through the rain, its tires hissing against the wet road. Isabella sat on the opposite side of the back seat, clutching the photograph she had found in her father's study against her chest.
She hadn't cried again.
That worried me more than tears would have.
People cried when their minds could process what had happened. Isabella looked as though she were still waiting to wake up from a nightmare, her eyes fixed on the dark window while rain blurred the city outside.
“Where are you taking me?”
“My house.”
Her head turned sharply. “No.”
“You're safer there.”
“I don't know you.”
“You know enough.”
“I know my father told me not to trust your family.”
I looked at her. “And yet you're sitting in my car.”
Her jaw tightened as she glanced toward the window again. “Because armed men were inside my house.”
“Exactly.”
She was angry, and I understood why.
Fear often needed somewhere to go, and tonight it had chosen me.
After several moments of silence, she finally asked, “Did you know my father was in danger?”
The question came quietly, but there was accusation beneath it.
“Yes.”
She turned toward me.
“How long?”
I didn't answer immediately.
“Adriano.”
It was the first time she'd said my name, and I hated how naturally it sounded coming from her.
“Three days.”.
Her expression changed.
“Three days?” she repeated.
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“I was trying to find him.”
“You could have warned me.”
“Your father specifically asked me not to.”
Her brows drew together. “Why?”
“Because he believed the people watching him would use you to get to him.”
She looked down at the photograph, her fingers tightening around its edges.
“So he knew this was coming.”
“Yes.”
“And he still left me here alone?”
“He thought keeping you ignorant would keep you safe.”
A bitter laugh escaped her.
“Well, that worked wonderfully.”
I said nothing.
She stared at the floor for a moment before wiping beneath one eye with the back of her hand.
“Everyone keeps saying that,” she murmured. “My father was protecting me. You're protecting me. Everyone is protecting me from the truth.”
Her voice cracked, and she took a breath before continuing.
“I don't want protection anymore.”
For a moment, I had no answer.
She wanted her father, and there was nothing I could give her that would fill the empty space where he belonged.
I reached into my coat and pulled out my phone, bringing up a photograph before turning the screen toward her.
It was Dante.
Alive.
Standing outside a warehouse.
Isabella's breath caught.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“But he's alive.”
The photograph had been taken earlier that evening. I nodded.
“I believe so.”
She looked at me carefully. “You said you didn't know.”
“I said I don't know where he is."
Her gaze remained fixed on mine. “Who took him?”
“That's what I'm trying to find out.”
“Why?”
I hesitated.
The truth was complicated.
Years ago, before I became the head of the Vittori organization, Dante had been my father's most trusted adviser. He knew where bodies were buried, which politicians had been bought, which police officers could be trusted, and where my father had hidden things he never intended the outside world to discover.
Including the Vittori ledger.
It contained records of every illegal transaction, every payment, and every name connected to the empire. If it reached the wrong hands, my family wouldn't simply lose its power. The entire organization could burn.
“Because your father stole something from my family.”
Isabella's eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Then why do you think he stole it?”
“Because three men searching for it were murdered.”
The color drained from her face.
“And you think my father is responsible?”
“I think your father knows where it is.”
She looked down at the photograph again. Then her expression changed.
“Wait.”
She pointed toward the background.
“What is that?”
I leaned closer.
A symbol had been painted on the warehouse wall behind Dante: three interlocking circles.
My stomach tightened.
I knew that symbol.
I'd seen it once before, on the night my father died.
“The Black Circle.”
Isabella looked at me. “What does that mean?”
“It means this isn't just about the ledger anymore.”
Her confusion deepened. “What does it mean?”
I didn't answer.
The Black Circle had disappeared fifteen years ago. At least, I'd believed it had.
My phone vibrated in my hand.
A message appeared.
YOU HAVE HER.
I looked at Isabella.
Another message followed.
NOW GIVE US THE LEDGER.
My grip tightened around the phone.
Then the final message appeared.
OR DANTE DIES.
I locked the screen.
Isabella noticed the change in my expression. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
She gave me a skeptical look.
She shouldn't believe me.
Trust was dangerous, especially with a man like me.
The gates of my estate appeared ahead, tall iron bars opening as we approached.
Armed guards stood along the driveway, their presence barely concealed beneath the shadows of the surrounding trees.
Isabella stared at them through the window.
“This is where you live?”
“Yes.”
“It looks like a prison.”
“It is.”
Her gaze shifted toward me. “For who?”
I met her eyes.
“Everyone who enters.”
The car came to a stop.
I stepped out and walked around to her door, but she remained seated.
“Isabella.”
“Before I get out, answer one question.”
“What?”
She studied me, her expression guarded.
“Did you bring me here because you want to protect me, or because you need something from me?”
I held her gaze.
The honest answer would have been both.
But honesty was a luxury I couldn't afford.
“Tonight, those two things are the same.”
She stared at me for several seconds before finally stepping out of the car.
I watched her walk toward the mansion, unaware that the moment she crossed those gates, her life had changed forever
.
She was no longer simply Dante Moretti's daughter.
She was a woman carrying a secret that could destroy my family.
And somewhere beyond my walls, someone was already preparing to make her pay for it.
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