THE RULES OF THE DEVIL
1202 Words
Isabella’s POV
The first morning of my marriage began with a knock on my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I muttered, pulling the blanket over my head.
Margaret entered carrying a breakfast tray.
“Good morning, Mrs. Moretti.”
I sat up immediately. “Please don’t call me that.”
She smiled gently. “But you are Mrs. Moretti now.”
Unfortunately, she was right.
I was married to Damian Moretti, the most dangerous man in the city, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“Where is your master?” I asked.
“Mr. Moretti is in his study. He requested that you join him for breakfast.”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“Busy doing what, dear?”
“Planning my escape.”
Margaret laughed softly, but I wasn’t joking.
After she left, I showered, dressed in jeans and a simple blouse, and went downstairs.
Damian sat at the dining table, reading documents. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing a watch that probably cost more than my father’s entire house.
He looked up when I entered.
“Good morning, wife.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer Mrs. Moretti?”
“I’d prefer you to disappear.”
He smiled faintly.
“Sit down, Isabella.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“Suit yourself.”
I remained standing for exactly thirty seconds before my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.
Damian raised an eyebrow.
“Still rather stand?”
I sat down angrily.
He pushed a plate toward me.
“Eat.”
“Stop ordering me around!”
“Then stop giving me reasons to worry about you fainting.”
I froze.
“Worry about me?”
He returned to his documents.
“Don’t make it complicated.”
I stared at him, wondering how someone could be so infuriating.
After breakfast, he placed a sheet of paper in front of me.
“What’s this?”
“The rules of this house.”
I looked at him incredulously.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Read them.”
I picked up the paper.
THE MORETTI HOUSE RULES
1. Never leave the estate without security.
2. Never enter the west wing without permission.
3. Never discuss family business with outsiders.
4. Never open the gates to strangers.
5. Never lie to Damian Moretti.
I dropped the paper.
“Are you my husband or my prison warden?”
“Both, apparently.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s becoming your favourite sentence.”
I stood and walked toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To break rule number one.”
“Isabella.”
I turned.
For the first time, his expression was completely serious.
“You can hate me all you want. But there are people outside this house who would kill you simply to hurt me.”
I swallowed.
“Why would anyone want to hurt you through me?”
He stared at me.
“Because you’re my wife.”
The words should have made me feel protected.
Instead, they made me feel terrified.
⸻
Damian’s POV
I watched Isabella leave the dining room.
She was stubborn, outspoken, and completely unprepared for the world she had entered.
I should have regretted marrying her.
Instead, I found myself worrying about her safety.
My phone rang.
“Luca,” I answered.
“Boss, we found something.”
“What?”
“Someone entered the estate last night.”
My body stiffened.
“Who?”
“We don’t know yet. But they left something outside Mrs. Moretti’s bedroom.”
I ended the call and hurried upstairs.
Outside Isabella’s room, Luca stood holding a small black envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Isabella’s father standing beside my mother.
On the back, someone had written five words.
YOUR WIFE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED.
My blood ran cold.
Isabella knew nothing about my mother’s death.
At least, I hoped she didn’t.
I turned toward the staircase just as she appeared.
“What is that?” she asked.
I quickly concealed the photograph.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“That’s the third time you’ve said something like that.”
“Go to your room, Isabella.”
“No.”
I stared at her.
She stepped closer.
“You don’t get to keep secrets from me while demanding that I tell you everything.”
For a moment, I almost admired her courage.
Almost.
“Stay out of things you don’t understand,” I warned.
Her face hardened.
“Then stop making me part of them!”
She turned and walked away.
I watched her disappear around the corner.
She was right.
I had dragged her into a dangerous world without explaining why.
But if I told her the truth, she might discover something that would destroy everything I had left.
Including the fragile peace I was beginning to feel whenever she was near.
⸻
THE WEST WING
Isabella’s POV
That afternoon, curiosity defeated common sense.
I remembered the second rule.
Never enter the west wing without permission.
Naturally, that was exactly where I went.
The corridor was darker than the rest of the mansion. Portraits lined the walls, and dust covered several pieces of furniture.
At the end stood a locked door.
I tried the handle.
It opened.
Inside was a private study filled with old books, photographs, and documents.
One photograph caught my attention.
Damian stood beside a beautiful woman with warm brown eyes.
His mother, I guessed.
She looked happy.
Beneath the photograph was a newspaper clipping about her mysterious death seven years earlier.
My heart began pounding.
Why had Damian never mentioned her?
I picked up another document.
The name DANIEL WILLIAMS appeared in bold letters.
My father’s name.
Before I could read further, a voice thundered behind me.
“What are you doing in here?”
I spun around.
Damian stood in the doorway, his face dark with fury.
“I can explain.”
“Get away from that desk.”
I stepped back.
“Damian, I found my father’s name—”
“I said get away!”
I flinched.
He noticed.
Something changed in his expression, but the anger remained.
He crossed the room, took the documents from my hands, and locked them inside a drawer.
“Never come in here again.”
“Why is my father connected to your mother’s death?”
His jaw tightened.
“Leave, Isabella.”
“Answer me!”
He slammed his palm against the desk.
“BECAUSE EVERYONE WHO KNEW THE TRUTH IS DEAD OR LYING!”
Silence filled the room.
I stared at him, stunned.
For the first time, I saw something beneath his anger.
Pain.
Deep, terrible pain.
Then he looked away.
“Go upstairs.”
This time, I obeyed.
But as I walked away, I knew one thing for certain.
My marriage wasn’t just about money.
It wasn’t even about power.
Someone had brought Damian and me together because of a secret buried seven years ago.
And I was determined to uncover it.
Even if the truth destroyed my marriage.
Even if it destroyed me.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD