Chapter Four — The Man Who Remembers
1379 Words
The gunshot echoed through the mansion.
Isabella flinched.
Dante tightened his grip around her hand.
“Stay close.”
“Who fired that?”
“I don’t know.”
Another shot rang out.
This time, it was closer.
Dante pulled Isabella toward the hidden exit at the end of the passage.
“Move.”
They emerged into the library.
Dante immediately pushed Isabella behind a bookshelf.
“Stay here.”
She grabbed his arm.
“No.”
His eyes met hers.
“Isabella, this isn’t a game.”
“I know.”
“Then listen to me.”
“I am listening. But I’m not hiding while you face them alone.”
For a moment, Dante simply stared at her.
Then footsteps sounded outside the library.
His expression hardened.
He moved in front of her.
The door opened.
A security guard stumbled inside.
“Sir!”
Dante raised his gun.
“Report.”
“Two men breached the east entrance. We’ve secured the lower floor, but one of them escaped.”
“Anyone injured?”
“One guard.”
Dante nodded.
“Lock the entire property down.”
“Yes, sir.”
The guard hurried away.
Isabella let out a shaky breath.
“Were they the Serpents?”
Dante looked at her.
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“We don’t know yet.”
She folded her arms.
“You’re frustrating.”
“I’ve been told.”
Despite everything, a tiny smile escaped her.
Dante noticed.
For one brief second, the tension between them disappeared.
Then his gaze fell on the photograph in her hand.
“Give me that.”
“No.”
“Isabella.”
“You’ve hidden enough from me.”
He stepped closer.
“That photograph puts you in danger.”
“My entire existence puts me in danger.”
His expression softened.
“I know.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Dante was silent.
“Who was the man in my mother’s photograph?”
“Your father.”
“Alessandro Romano.”
“Yes.”
“Is he alive?”
Dante hesitated.
“I believe so.”
Isabella’s heart raced.
“You believe so?”
“There have been reports.”
“Where?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then find him.”
“I intend to.”
She studied his face.
“You really knew my family.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Dante looked away.
“My father knew yours.”
“Were they friends?”
“No.”
“Enemies?”
“Sometimes.”
“Then what were they?”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“Complicated.”
Isabella sighed.
“Everything with you is complicated.”
He looked at her.
“Because the truth is complicated.”
“Then give me pieces.”
He considered her request.
Finally, he said, “Your father discovered something about my family.”
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly what.”
“Then what happened?”
“Your parents disappeared.”
“Both?”
“Yes.”
Isabella shook her head.
“My mother didn’t disappear at the same time.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know?”
“I remember.”
She closed her eyes.
Another memory was beginning to surface.
A dark room.
Her mother kneeling beside her.
A trembling hand fastening a necklace around her neck.
The same necklace Isabella still wore.
Her mother’s voice whispered:
“Never let them take this from you.”
Isabella opened her eyes.
“My mother gave me this.”
Dante looked at the pendant.
“Where did you get it?”
“I’ve had it since I was a child.”
“May I see it?”
She hesitated before handing it to him.
Dante examined it carefully.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He turned it over.
The tiny engraving was visible.
R.
“Do you know what it means?”
Dante didn’t answer.
“Dante.”
“It belonged to your family.”
“I know that.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You don’t understand.”
“What?”
“This isn’t just a family necklace.”
He handed it back.
“It’s a key.”
Isabella stared at him.
“A key to what?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then how can you call it a key?”
“Because your father spent years looking for it.”
Her fingers closed around the pendant.
“Why?”
Dante’s voice dropped.
“Because whatever it opens could destroy the people who ruined your family.”
Silence filled the room.
Isabella suddenly understood why someone wanted her dead.
The necklace wasn’t valuable because it belonged to her.
It was valuable because it might lead to something powerful.
Something someone had killed to keep hidden.
⸻
Later that night, Dante stood in his study reviewing security footage.
Isabella appeared in the doorway.
“You’re still awake.”
“So are you.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He looked at her.
“Nightmares?”
“Memories.”
Dante’s expression softened.
“What did you remember?”
“My mother was afraid.”
“She had reason to be.”
“She told me to hide the necklace.”
Dante stood.
“Did she say anything else?”
Isabella shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
“I think more will come.”
He walked toward her.
“When they do, tell me.”
“Why?”
“So I can protect you.”
She looked into his eyes.
“Why do you care so much?”
Dante stopped.
He seemed to struggle with the question.
“Because I promised your mother.”
“That isn’t the whole reason.”
He remained silent.
Isabella stepped closer.
“You care about me.”
His eyes darkened.
“I shouldn’t.”
“But you do.”
“Yes.”
The honesty in his answer caught her off guard.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Dante lifted his hand and gently touched her cheek.
“You have no idea how dangerous it is for me to care about you.”
Her heartbeat quickened.
“Then stop.”
“I’ve tried.”
“And?”
“I failed.”
The distance between them disappeared.
Isabella’s breath caught.
Dante leaned closer.
Then he stopped.
His phone rang.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Isabella almost laughed.
“Bad timing?”
“Very.”
He answered.
“What?”
His expression immediately changed.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Don’t touch anything.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” Isabella asked.
“A guard found something at the east gate.”
They hurried downstairs.
A small box sat on the ground.
Dante crouched beside it.
Inside was an old photograph.
Isabella picked it up.
It showed her mother.
But this time, she wasn’t alone.
Standing beside her was Dante’s father.
And between them stood a young Alessandro Romano.
On the back, someone had written:
THE THREE OF THEM MADE A DEAL.
Isabella looked at Dante.
“What deal?”
He stared at the photograph.
“I don’t know.”
Before Isabella could respond, her pendant suddenly became warm.
She gasped.
The tiny R on its surface began to glow faintly.
Dante’s eyes widened.
“What is happening?”
Isabella touched it.
A sharp pain shot through her head.
Then a voice echoed inside her memory.
Her mother’s voice.
Clearer than ever.
“If you’re hearing this, Isabella, Dante is the only person you can trust.”
Isabella’s eyes opened.
She looked at Dante.
He had heard nothing.
But she had.
And there was one more thing her mother had whispered before the memory disappeared.
A name.
A name Isabella had never heard before.
“Lucian.”
Dante suddenly went pale.
Isabella noticed.
“Who is Lucian?”
Dante didn’t answer.
“Dante?”
He looked at her.
And for the first time, Isabella saw genuine fear in his eyes.
“Lucian Moretti,” he whispered.
“My uncle.”
Then the mansion lights went out again.
And from somewhere in the darkness came a man’s voice.
“Hello, nephew.”
Dante immediately pulled Isabella behind him.
A slow laugh echoed through the mansion.
Lucian was home.
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