Chapter Five
772 Words
A Name Without a Face
The De Luca Estate was unusually quiet.
Perched atop one of Valenza's highest hills, the mansion overlooked the glittering city below. Its floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the lights stretching toward the horizon, while the silence inside spoke of discipline rather than emptiness.
At this hour, most of the staff had retired.
Only the security team remained fully alert.
Inside his study, Alessandro De Luca stood before a wall of illuminated monitors.
He wasn't looking at financial reports.
Or tomorrow's schedule.
His attention rested on a paused surveillance image.
A woman in a black evening gown.
The picture wasn't perfect.
She had been captured from an angle, her face partially turned away.
Yet there was something about her posture...
Something about the way she carried herself...
That refused to leave his mind.
A soft knock interrupted the silence.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Enzo Romano entered carrying a tablet.
"You were right."
Alessandro didn't turn.
"I usually am."
Enzo smirked.
"I interviewed every member of the hotel staff."
"And?"
"No one remembers seeing her arrive."
Alessandro finally looked at him.
"No one?"
"They remember the politicians."
"The celebrities."
"The foreign delegates."
"But her?"
He shook his head.
"It's as if she appeared out of nowhere."
Alessandro walked closer to the monitor.
"That's impossible."
"I know."
Enzo handed him the tablet.
"We've already checked airport arrivals, hotel reservations, and every guest registered under the name Isabella Bell."
"Nothing?"
"Every record is legitimate."
"But none of them belong to her."
Alessandro studied the paused image once more.
She had entered one of the most secure events in the city.
She had remained calm under constant surveillance.
And somehow...
She had vanished without leaving a trace.
That wasn't luck.
It was preparation.
"Run facial reconstruction."
"We already have."
"Again."
Enzo sighed.
"You think we'll get a different result?"
"I think whoever she is..."
"...she expected us to look."
Enzo nodded slowly.
That answer sounded exactly like Alessandro.
Always assuming his opponent had planned three moves ahead.
"So," Enzo asked, "what now?"
Alessandro remained silent for a long moment.
Then he picked up the photograph from the desk.
"I want to know everything."
"About who?"
"The woman."
"What if there isn't anything to know?"
Alessandro slipped the photograph into a folder.
"Everyone has a history."
He looked toward the city lights beyond the window.
"My job is to find it."
Miles away, beneath the abandoned vineyard, Isabella stood alone inside the underground training facility.
The room was enormous.
Mirrored walls stretched from floor to ceiling.
Weapons of every kind lined with reinforced steel racks.
Combat mats covered the center of the room.
Without a word, she removed her evening heels.
Then the diamond earrings.
Then the elegant black gown.
She changed into fitted training clothes with practiced efficiency.
Her reflection stared back from the mirrors.
No makeup.
No jewelry.
No disguise.
Just Isabella.
She tied her hair into a tight ponytail.
Across the room, a digital timer illuminated.
Five minutes.
The countdown began.
She stepped onto the mat.
The first strike landed against the heavy punching bag with enough force to send it swinging violently.
Then another.
And another.
Each punch carried years of discipline.
Years of grief.
Years of unanswered questions.
Sweat formed across her forehead as combinations flowed effortlessly from memory.
Jab.
Cross.
Elbow.
Roundhouse kick.
The bag groaned beneath the relentless assault.
She didn't stop until the timer sounded.
Breathing steadily, Isabella rested both hands on the bag.
Closing her eyes.
For a brief moment...
She saw him again.
Gray eyes.
Calm expression.
Watching.
Not judging.
Not threatening.
Simply...
Watching.
She opened her eyes immediately.
Why was she thinking about Alessandro?
She hated him.
Didn't she?
A quiet voice echoed from behind.
"You hesitated."
Isabella turned.
Vincent stood in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back.
"I finished the course."
"I'm not talking about your training."
He walked slowly into the room.
"You hesitated when I asked about Alessandro."
She remained silent.
Vincent stopped a few feet away.
"Never underestimate the danger of curiosity."
"I was only answering your question."
"Were you?"
His eyes searched for hers.
"Or were you trying to understand him?"
Isabella looked away.
"I know exactly who he is."
Vincent's expression softened.
"Good."
"Because forgetting your purpose..."
"...is how people die."
The room fell silent.
Far above them, the first light of dawn began to rise over Valenza.
Neither of them knew it yet.
But somewhere across the city...
Alessandro De Luca had just made a decision.
He wasn't going to wait for the mysterious woman to return.
He was going to find her first.
- Writer
