12. Isabella
12
Isabella
T he room is stifling, a silent thunder rolling beneath the elegance of velvet seats and glistening chandeliers. I can feel eyes crawling all over me, some questioning, some accusing, others... predatory. And then there’s him.
Dante Vitale. I know his name now, thanks to Nico whispering it over the earpiece, and somehow that only makes it worse. His white mask glints under the low lights, ghostly against his sharp gaze.
He looks at me as though I’m something he’s already dissected, already taken apart and put back together in ways he knows will break me.
My pulse pounds against my ribcage, but I lift my chin, refusing to let him see a crack. He can’t know what I’m feeling. No one here can.
“All right, Isabella,” Nico says in my ear, his voice calm but insistent. “Keep going.”
So I do. I force my voice to stay steady, my hand just the right amount of raised, and I bid again.
Another gasp ripples through the room. I’m feeling lightheaded, each word that leaves my mouth tightening the room’s grip on me. They’re all watching me.
My lips go dry, but I’m barely aware of it. I’m only aware of the looks, the murmurs, and of Dante’s stare burning through the mask.
Then he makes a move, the simplest gesture of raising his hand. “Ten million dollars,” he calls, his voice slicing through the chatter.
I stop breathing. Ten million dollars. It’s more than I could ever fathom, more than I could have imagined even being involved with, much less raising a bid against.
But I hear Alessio’s voice come through the earpiece. “Do not let him win.” And I know what I have to do, even as my stomach churns and every nerve in my body screams for me to run.
I raise my hand. “Twelve million.”
The room falls into a stunned silence, my words hanging heavy in the air. I see the flicker of shock in Dante’s eyes, just for an instant, before he covers it, and that gives me a flicker of strength. I’ve surprised him. That’s enough for now.
The auctioneer recovers, his tone professional but intrigued. “Twelve million from the lady in black. Do we have any other bids?” He waits, but the room remains silent. “Going once, going twice…”
He raises his gavel, eyes on me as though trying to memorize every detail of the mystery woman who dared to outbid a Vitale. “Sold. Twelve million to… the lady. And what name shall I put on record?”
A moment of hesitation, and then I find my voice, low and clear. “Isabella.”
His brow arches, a flicker of surprise passing over his face, but he doesn’t press further. I’m grateful; I’m already on the edge of unraveling, and another question might have pushed me over.
I manage a small nod as he gestures me towards the back room, where payment and collection will take place.
Inside, it feels like the walls are closing in, tightening around me with every step. But Nico’s voice crackles through the earpiece, anchoring me.
“Alright, you’re almost there. Just keep the ring you’re wearing steady, so I can catch the account details when the clerk shows you,” he says, calm as ever.
I walk in, and the clerk holds out a laptop screen with an account number. I pretend to make a transaction with my phone, angling my hand just right to keep the ring camera focused on the screen.
“Perfect. Got it,” Nico murmurs, his voice a low buzz in my ear. “Now... should just take a second. These fake wire deposits run fast.”
It hits me then: Nico isn’t transferring any money. It’s a ghost deposit, a clever bit of smoke and mirrors.
I laugh…the thought prickles with a sense of poetic justice. Fake money to get the real ring back after it was switched for a fake ring. For a moment, the fear that’s been twisting inside me loosens, replaced by a spark of satisfaction.
It only takes a few seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. I glance up just in time to see the clerk’s face light up with approval. “It’s been received. The Ice Box thanks you for your business,” he says, with a slight bow that’s all formality.
He hands me a small box, and as my fingers curl around it, I feel a sinking sensation. The weight is all wrong. Again. My instincts, honed by years of handling jewelry, scream that something is off.
And as I open the box and see it, I know. The ring is a perfect replica, but that’s all it is…an imitation. My chest tightens, fury bubbling up with a heat that shocks me.
They’re toying with me. After all this, after the fear and danger, they’re going to hand me a fake?
“No.” The word escapes me before I can stop it. The clerk looks up, his mask a shield for whatever expression he’s making. I don’t care.
“"This isn't the actual ring," I say, my voice icy.“Give me the real one.”
A flicker of surprise, and then he exchanges a glance with the other Ice Box bosses lingering nearby. I can see them sizing me up, wondering if I’ll make a scene.
Finally, with a nervous laugh, the man hands over a new box. “Forgive us,” he says. “It was… just a playful test. This is the real one.”
I don’t respond. Don’t even give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his excuse. Instead, I lift the ring, feeling its familiar weight, its details unmistakable.
Relief washes over me, almost making me weak in the knees. I’ve done it. I’ve done it. The Luciana family’s ring is back.
As I turn to leave, one boss clears his throat, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “How could you tell? Have you… seen the ring before?”
I smile, keeping my voice soft but firm. “Some things are just… obvious.”
Without another word, I walk away, feeling their gazes prickling my back, but I don’t look back.
I head towards the exit, my pulse still hammering from the night’s chaos. I just want to get out, get far away from this nightmare of an auction house, and…
And then I feel it. That same chilling presence, the air thickening around me as Dante Vitale steps into my path.
I go rigid, my mind racing, my body freezing in place. My fingers tighten around the ring as though that alone will protect me.
Nico’s voice crackles in my ear. “Calm down. Just play along, Isabella. You’re almost out.”
Dante’s eyes are intense, appraising, as he takes a step closer. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr that slides over me like a knife. “I don’t recall seeing you at The Ice Box before.”
I force myself to meet his gaze, my voice as steady as I can manage. “I’m… new to town.”
He nods, his eyes narrowing slightly, calculating. “Twelve million dollars is a lot for someone I’ve never heard of before. I know everyone that can have that kind of money. Everyone that can spend it in one night.” His tone is both a question and a challenge.
My mouth goes dry, but I manage a small, coy smile. “Life is full of surprises. Maybe you don’t know as much as you think.”
He smirks, inching even closer, his voice a whisper only I can hear. “Give me the ring.”
Every nerve in my body screams to run, but I stand still, breath hitching as he continues. “I could offer you a lot. Influence. Power.” He leans in, his tone smooth as silk. “I’ll double the twelve million over the next year if you agree.”
For a moment, his eyes are all I can see, his presence all I can feel.
Then, somehow, I find my voice, soft but firm. “Thank you, but… I have everything I need.” I take a step back, holding his gaze before turning to walk away.
The weight of fear bears down on me as I make my way towards the exit. I feel Dante’s stare burning into my back, his quiet threat lingering in the air. My hands are shaking, but I don’t stop. I don’t let him see.
Finally, I’m outside, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap. I breathe deeply, my heart still racing. I’m almost free, almost….
Then headlights flare to life, blinding me as a car barrels down the street, aiming straight for me.
I’m frozen, paralyzed by sheer terror as the vehicle speeds closer, unstoppable. I can’t move. I can’t think…
Out of nowhere, another car swerves between me and the oncoming vehicle. The sound of metal on metal is deafening as Alessio’s car takes the hit, jerking violently to the side. He brakes hard, right in front of me, and then slumps over the wheel, unconscious. He must have hit his head on something during the impact.
The driver of the other car stumbles out, disoriented but regaining his footing, a gun flashing in his hand.
Every instinct in me screams to run, but I don’t. Instead, I rush to Alessio’s car, pushing his limp form back just enough to climb onto his lap, my heart pounding in my throat as I fumble with the ignition.
I feel a surge of fear as I see Dante and his men emerging from the club, shadows stretching across the pavement towards me.
“Isabella,” Nico’s voice comes through from the back seat, strained but urgent. “Get us out of here. Now.”
Gritting my teeth, I grip the wheel, glancing at the gunman stepping forward through the rear mirror.
I slam my foot on the gas just as he fires, the bullets whistling past, one cracking the windshield in front of me.
I don’t look back, don’t dare to think…just drive, racing through the streets, each second stretching out, my heart pounding in my throat.
“Don’t stop. Just get to the Lodge,” Nico’s voice grounds me, a lifeline in the chaos. I feel Alessio’s weight slumped against me, I barely notice Nico in the backseat.
All I can think about is putting distance between us and the Vitale men, the twisted paths of the city flashing by as I drive.
Finally, I see the lights of the Bellini Lodge, The Luciana's cars parked in front. They moved past me quickly as I drove past the gate, their eyes darting around, presumably to make sure we weren't followed.
The moment I screech to a halt, I’m screaming for help, desperately voices drawing everyone's attention to Alessio.
I watch as a group of men approach the car, swiftly taking Alessio from the seat. A couple of them move to help Nico, though his injuries aren’t as severe.
One man, a doctor by the look of the stethoscope draped over his shoulders, leans over Alessio, checking for a pulse. After a tense moment, he looks up and gives me a reassuring nod. “He’s going to be fine.”
Relief floods through me, but exhaustion weighs heavier. They carry Alessio down the hallway, and the doctor glances back, advising me to get some rest.
My head feels thick with everything that’s happened tonight, my heart still pounding, but I rise, almost on autopilot, and walk down the corridor toward Massimo’s office.
The door is open when I reach it, and I step inside. The room feels less intimidating now, maybe because tonight has finally brought the ring back into Massimo’s possession.
Massimo is waiting, silent, his gaze steady on me as I cross the room and place the ring on his desk. He picks it up, turning it over in his hand, inspecting it as the haze of his cigar smoke fills the air.
After a long, weighty pause, he looks at me, something close to a smile forming on his face.
“Thank you, Isabella. You’ve proven yourself tonight.”
His words warm me, easing a small smile onto my face. “Thank you, Massimo.”
But as grateful as I am that this ordeal is over, a lingering thought keeps tugging at me, refusing to let go. My mind drifts back to Alessio, hoping…no, praying…that he truly will be alright.