CHAPTER 3: A DANGEROUS CURIOSITY
527 Words
The Moreau Tower was quiet at night, the kind of quiet that came only after Alexander had emptied an entire floor so he could think. The city lights stretched below him, a living map of everything he controlled. He should have been reviewing shipment routes or checking the latest intel on Lucien Voss, but his mind kept circling back to one thing.
Her.
Isabella Dela Cruz.
The woman who did not bow.
Alexander sat behind his desk, fingers drumming once against the polished surface as he stared at the single surveillance photo lying in front of him. It had been taken at the club moments before she walked away from him without fear. Her eyes were steady, her jaw set, her posture calm, as if she lived in a world where men like him did not exist.
That alone made her dangerous.
And yet, he could not forget her.
He turned the photo face-down and leaned back in his chair. “Luca,” he called.
His lieutenant entered quietly. “You wanted an update, Boss.”
“Tell me you found something,” Alexander said.
Luca hesitated. A bad sign.
“We ran her name through every database. Government records, employment logs, immigration files. Nothing concrete. Only fragments.” He placed a thin file on the desk.
Alexander opened it. Several pages too few. A single ID copy. An address that looked temporary. A work record from three years ago that led nowhere. A birth certificate that could have belonged to anyone.
“This is nothing,” Alexander said, voice low.
“It is everything we could find,” Luca replied carefully. “It’s almost like she wanted to disappear. Or someone helped her.”
Alexander closed the file.
Yesterday, Isabella had been an interruption.
Today, she was a void.
And he hated voids.
“Expand the search,” Alexander ordered. “Private networks. Off-books contacts. Anyone who owes us information. Dig deep.”
Luca nodded. “Yes, Boss. But…” He paused. “Are we expecting trouble from her?”
Alexander did not answer. Trouble was not what he sensed. It was something heavier, quieter, as if she were a locked door in a hallway full of open ones.
“Find everything,” he repeated.
Luca left. Alexander stood and walked toward the glass wall overlooking the city. The night pressed close, warm and restless. He could still see her: her calm defiance, the way she had looked at him as if she already knew something about him that no one else did.
His jaw tightened.
He should have let the moment go. Women had crossed his path before, beautiful and bold. They came and went. None lingered in his mind after the lights dimmed.
But she had.
Why?
He picked up the file again and studied the blurred ID photo. Not enough. None of this was enough.
Alexander closed the folder and placed it aside with deliberate care.
“Who are you, Isabella?” he murmured.
The question settled in the room, unsettling him more than he cared to admit.
Curiosity had teeth.
And for the first time in years, he felt them sink in.
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