THINGS THAT DON'T ADD UP
1584 Words
Isabella didn’t usually ignore her instincts.
They had carried her through law school, through difficult cases, through moments where something felt wrong long before she could prove it.
And right now—
Something felt wrong.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But persistent.
Like a quiet voice she couldn’t quite silence.
—
She sat at her desk, staring at her laptop screen without really seeing it.
Emails remained unanswered.
Documents untouched.
Her mind kept circling back to the same place.
Luca.
The way he spoke.
The way he answered questions… without really answering them.
The way he seemed to know more than he should.
And that name.
De Santis.
It lingered.
Just out of reach.
Familiar—but not enough to place.
That bothered her more than anything.
Because Isabella Rossi did not forget things.
—
“You’ve been staring at that screen for ten minutes.”
The voice broke through her thoughts.
Isabella blinked, looking up.
Elena stood in the doorway of her office, arms crossed, expression knowing.
“Five,” Isabella said.
“Ten,” Elena corrected, stepping inside. “And you haven’t typed a single word.”
Isabella leaned back slightly, exhaling.
“I’m working.”
“No, you’re thinking.”
“That too.”
Elena tilted her head, studying her more closely.
“Alright,” she said slowly, pulling out a chair. “Who is he?”
Isabella frowned. “What?”
“Don’t do that,” Elena said. “You get this look when something—or someone—is distracting you.”
“I’m not distracted.”
“Isabella.”
A pause.
Then—
“His name is Luca.”
Elena’s brows lifted immediately.
“Of course it is.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” Elena said, leaning forward slightly, “he sounds like trouble already.”
Isabella almost smiled.
“Probably.”
“And you’re still thinking about him.”
“Yes.”
Elena leaned back, satisfied.
“Good. We’re making progress.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“It’s not.”
Elena’s expression softened slightly.
“Alright,” she said. “Tell me.”
Isabella hesitated.
Not because she didn’t trust Elena.
But because saying it out loud would make it… real.
And she wasn’t sure she wanted that yet.
“He just—” she started, then stopped.
“He just what?”
“He doesn’t make sense.”
Elena blinked. “That’s your concern?”
“Yes.”
“Not that he’s attractive, mysterious, and clearly interested in you?”
“That too,” Isabella admitted. “But that’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
Isabella sat forward slightly, her tone more focused now.
“He knew things about me.”
Elena’s expression shifted.
“What kind of things?”
“My work. Where I’d be. Small details.”
“That could be normal.”
“It could be,” Isabella agreed. “But it didn’t feel like it.”
Elena was quiet for a moment.
“Did he tell you what he does?” she asked.
“No.”
“Last name?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“De Santis.”
Elena stilled.
Just slightly.
But Isabella noticed.
“What?” she asked.
Elena shook her head quickly. “Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing.”
“It’s just… the name sounds familiar.”
“Exactly.”
“But I can’t place it,” Elena added. “It could be nothing.”
“It could be,” Isabella said.
But she didn’t believe that.
Not entirely.
—
After Elena left, the silence in the office felt heavier.
More focused.
Isabella turned back to her laptop slowly.
Then, without overthinking it—
She typed.
Luca De Santis.
The name stared back at her from the search bar.
Simple.
Innocent.
But something about it didn’t feel that way.
She hit enter.
Results filled the screen.
Articles.
Business listings.
Old records.
Nothing that stood out immediately.
Nothing that explained the feeling in her chest.
She frowned slightly, scrolling.
Too clean.
Too normal.
It didn’t match him.
Men like Luca didn’t feel… ordinary.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment.
Then she refined the search.
More specific.
More targeted.
Still—
Nothing.
Isabella leaned back, her expression tightening.
“That’s not possible,” she murmured.
Everyone left traces.
Everyone.
Especially someone like him.
Unless—
He didn’t want to be found.
—
That thought settled heavily in her mind.
And suddenly—
This wasn’t curiosity anymore.
It was concern.
—
Later that evening, Isabella stepped out of the building, her mind still working through possibilities.
Maybe she was overthinking.
Maybe this was nothing.
Maybe he was just—
Her steps slowed.
The feeling came again.
That quiet awareness.
The sense of being watched.
She turned slightly, her gaze scanning the street.
People passed by.
Cars moved.
Nothing unusual.
And yet—
Something felt off.
Her grip tightened slightly on her bag.
“You’re doing it again.”
The voice came from behind her.
Calm.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Isabella turned.
Luca.
Of course.
“Following me now?” she asked.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Neither does coincidence.”
She studied him carefully.
“You show up at very convenient times.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“I don’t appear out of nowhere.”
“No,” he said quietly, “you just notice more than most people.”
That made her pause.
“You say that like it matters.”
“It does.”
“Why?”
“Because it means you’ll figure things out.”
The words were light.
Almost casual.
But something about them felt… deliberate.
“You say that like it’s a warning,” she said.
“Maybe it is.”
A quiet tension settled between them.
Different this time.
Less curiosity.
More edge.
“I looked you up,” Isabella said suddenly.
There it was.
Direct.
No hesitation.
Luca didn’t react.
Not visibly.
“What did you find?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“And that bothered you.”
“Yes.”
“It should.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re not even denying it.”
“Denying what?”
“That there’s something you’re not telling me.”
A pause.
Then—
“There are a lot of things I’m not telling you.”
The honesty of it hit harder than a lie would have.
Isabella took a small step closer, her voice lowering.
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“That seems to be a pattern with you.”
“Yes.”
Silence stretched between them.
Thick.
Uncomfortable.
Real.
“Then give me a reason,” she said.
“For what?”
“To trust you.”
There it was.
The line.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Luca held her gaze.
For a moment—
It looked like he might say something.
Something real.
Something important.
But then—
He stepped back.
Slightly.
Enough to create distance again.
“Not yet,” he said.
The words landed harder this time.
Because now—
She understood what they meant.
And she didn’t like it.
Isabella’s expression hardened.
“That’s not good enough.”
“I know.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
She exhaled sharply, shaking her head.
“This—whatever this is—it doesn’t work if you keep doing that.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still doing it.”
“Yes.”
Frustration flickered in her eyes now.
“Then maybe we should stop.”
The words hung between them.
Heavy.
Serious.
This wasn’t like before.
This wasn’t hesitation.
This was a real possibility.
Luca didn’t respond immediately.
But something in his expression shifted.
Subtle.
But there.
“Do you want to?” he asked quietly.
Isabella opened her mouth—
Then closed it again.
Because the answer wasn’t simple.
Because the answer wasn’t what it should have been.
“No,” she admitted.
The word came out softer than she intended.
And that was the problem.
Luca’s gaze didn’t change.
But something behind it did.
“Then don’t,” he said.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It can be.”
“It’s not,” she repeated.
A pause.
Then—
“Then ask me something else,” he said.
“What?”
“Something I can answer.”
Isabella hesitated.
Then—
“Why me?”
The question was quiet.
But real.
Luca didn’t look away.
“Because you don’t look away,” he said.
Her breath caught—just slightly.
“And that matters?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone else does.”
Silence.
Soft.
Different.
This time, it wasn’t tension.
It was something deeper.
Something more dangerous.
Because it felt honest.
Isabella studied him for a moment longer.
Then exhaled slowly.
“This is a bad idea,” she said again.
“Yes.”
“And we’re still doing it.”
“Yes.”
A faint, almost reluctant smile touched her lips.
“Alright,” she said.
“Alright?”
“For now.”
Luca nodded once.
“For now.”
—
But as they stood there—
Neither of them noticed the car parked across the street.
The figure inside.
Watching.
Waiting.
—
And this time—
The danger wasn’t just between them.
- Writer
