Chapter 8 — The Truth Behind the Protection
1299 Words
The address on Isabella’s phone belonged to an abandoned warehouse near the eastern docks.
She stared at the message.
COME ALONE.
Her heart pounded.
Someone knew she had discovered the truth.
Someone knew about her mother.
And now they wanted her alone.
“No.”
Dante’s voice was firm.
Isabella looked up.
He had read the message over her shoulder.
“You can’t go.”
“It’s about my mother.”
“It’s a trap.”
“Maybe.”
“Not maybe. Definitely.”
Isabella pulled her phone back.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
Dante stepped closer.
“They want you to leave my protection.”
“Your protection?”
His expression tightened.
“Yes.”
“Then tell me why you protected me.”
Silence.
Alessandro and Dante exchanged a glance.
Isabella noticed.
“You both know something.”
Dante looked away.
“Isabella—”
“No.”
She stepped toward him.
“You told me you were protecting me because my life was in danger. But that’s not the whole truth.”
Dante said nothing.
“Why me?”
His jaw clenched.
“Because your mother asked me to.”
“That’s not enough.”
“It has to be.”
“Why would she trust you?”
Dante finally looked at her.
“Because I owed her.”
Isabella frowned.
“Owed her what?”
“My life.”
The words stunned her.
Dante continued quietly.
“Years ago, before you disappeared, your mother saved me.”
“How?”
“She warned me that someone inside my family was planning to kill my father.”
Isabella’s eyes widened.
“Your father?”
Dante nodded.
“She tried to expose the betrayal.”
“And?”
“No one believed her.”
His voice became bitter.
“Not even me.”
Isabella stared at him.
“What happened?”
“My father died.”
Silence filled the room.
“And after that,” Dante continued, “your mother disappeared.”
Isabella’s heart ached.
“So you blamed yourself.”
“Every day.”
She looked at him differently.
For the first time, she understood why Dante carried so much darkness inside him.
“You promised her you’d protect me.”
“Yes.”
“Even if it meant keeping me here as a maid?”
Dante’s eyes softened.
“That was the only way I could keep you close without making people suspicious.”
“You could have told me.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because the moment you knew who you were, you’d become a target.”
Isabella swallowed.
“I already am.”
Dante stepped closer.
“I know.”
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the anger between them disappeared.
“I don’t want you to die because of secrets I failed to uncover.”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I’ve already lost too many people.”
Isabella felt tears gather in her eyes.
“Then don’t lose me.”
Dante froze.
She realized what she had said.
Neither moved.
Then Dante reached for her hand.
“I won’t.”
⸻
A sudden noise came from the hallway.
Alessandro appeared.
“We need to leave.”
Dante immediately released Isabella’s hand.
“Why?”
“The security system has been breached.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“How?”
Alessandro shook his head.
“Someone inside the estate helped them.”
Isabella’s blood ran cold.
“Someone here?”
“Yes.”
Dante reached for his weapon.
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
A guard rushed into the room.
“Mr. Moretti, there’s been another message.”
Dante took the phone.
His expression changed.
Isabella looked at him.
“What is it?”
He handed her the screen.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Isabella sleeping in her bedroom.
Taken only hours earlier.
Her stomach twisted.
Someone had been inside her room.
Below the photograph were six words:
YOUR PROTECTION IS YOUR GREATEST WEAKNESS.
Isabella looked at Dante.
“They’re talking about you.”
“I know.”
“And they know where I sleep.”
“I know.”
“Then I’m not safe here.”
Dante shook his head.
“You’re safer here than anywhere else.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because whoever is hunting you has already shown us something.”
“What?”
“They’re afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
Dante looked at the photograph from the Romano Estate.
“The truth.”
⸻
That evening, Isabella returned to her room.
She locked the door.
Then she noticed something strange.
Her bed had been moved.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Someone had searched her room.
She immediately checked beneath her mattress.
Nothing.
Her wardrobe.
Nothing.
Then she remembered the hidden compartment inside her pendant.
She touched it.
Empty.
The note was gone.
Her heart stopped.
Someone had stolen it.
A soft knock came at the door.
Isabella froze.
“Who is it?”
No answer.
Another knock.
She stepped backward.
Then a voice whispered through the door.
“Isabella.”
Dante.
She opened it.
He stood outside.
“What happened?”
“The note is gone.”
His expression darkened.
“What note?”
“The one my mother left inside my pendant.”
Dante entered.
“Did anyone come in here?”
“No.”
He examined the room.
Then he stopped beside the window.
The lock was broken.
Someone had entered from outside.
Dante’s face became cold.
“You’re moving rooms.”
“Where?”
“Mine.”
Isabella’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“My room has two security doors and no accessible windows.”
She stared at him.
“You want me to sleep in your room?”
“I want you alive.”
The words made her heart beat faster.
Before she could answer, a loud alarm sounded throughout the mansion.
Dante immediately reached for his weapon.
A guard’s voice came through the intercom.
“Sir! We’ve found an intruder!”
Dante grabbed Isabella’s hand.
“Stay behind me.”
They rushed downstairs.
The guards had surrounded someone near the west wing.
Isabella’s eyes widened.
It was Maria.
The housekeeper stood trembling beside the wall.
Dante stared at her.
“What were you doing here?”
Maria’s eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t betray you.”
“Then explain.”
She looked at Isabella.
“I was trying to protect her.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“From whom?”
Maria slowly reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a small envelope.
“I was told to give this to Isabella if Alessandro ever returned.”
Isabella stepped forward.
“Who gave it to you?”
Maria’s lips trembled.
“Your mother.”
Isabella’s breath caught.
“Where did she give it to you?”
“Years ago.”
“Is she alive?”
Maria looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
She handed Isabella the envelope.
On the front was one word.
DAUGHTER.
Isabella opened it with shaking hands.
Inside was a photograph.
Her mother was standing beside a little girl.
Isabella.
But behind them stood a man whose face had been carefully scratched out.
On the back, her mother had written:
The man you must fear is not the one you think.
Isabella looked up.
Dante was staring at the photograph.
His face had gone pale.
“What’s wrong?”
He pointed to the little girl’s necklace.
It was the same pendant Isabella wore now.
Then he looked at the scratched-out man.
“I know who that is.”
Isabella’s heart stopped.
“Who?”
Dante swallowed.
“My father.”
The room fell silent.
And somewhere upstairs, a door slowly creaked open.
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