Chapter 22
The Mask
My little bird was finally learning how to look properly.
I watched her through the monitors as she crouched in front of the bookshelf downstairs, her fingers slowly tracing across the spines whilst her mind worked behind those beautiful eyes. She was no longer simply reading the books I brought her. She was studying them. Studying me.
Studying the secluded world I had built for her in that room, and dismantling it brick by brick.
And fuck, there was something deeply satisfying about watching her finally begin to understand the game.
Most people never looked beneath the surface of anything. They accepted the version of reality handed to them because it was easier than thinking for themselves.
Isabelle had never been that way. Not to me.
I saw her deeper than most people. I knew the way her mind worked, if only she was given the chance.
And so I had given her all the clues—not just in the basement.
I had been planting the seeds for months.
In far more ways than she realised. But she would soon enough.
She just needed time to work through it.
To give that brilliant mind of hers a chance.
I had all the time in the world.
Her mother didn’t understand. Sophie Carbone couldn’t see past anything other than her next party. Her father only wanted Isabelle when she was obedient and not paying attention.
And Adrien? That cunt only wanted her for what she represented.
She was his mask to the world. His alibi.
He wanted the beautiful wife, the well-behaved, well-mannered children they would have, the lovely home they would build and share with the world.
Surface bullshit to hide his greed and true nature.
He would tighten the leash around her throat little by little, day by day, until she forgot to think for herself. Or she was too scared to think for herself.
None of them realised what sat beneath her beauty.
She was intelligent. Curious. She trusted her instincts and approached life methodically.
She may have been blind to a lot of what happened in her house, but show her the signs, give her the hints, and that phenomenal mind worked it out eventually.
And it was a thing of beauty to watch firsthand.
I had seen it from the very first time I’d laid eyes on her dancing at her party.
I had been instructed to kill her uncle. To sneak in and out, without ever being seen, killing a rival and reminding the world what happened when you were indebted to the Falcones.
For one stolen moment, our eyes had locked.
And though I’d seen the terror in them, I’d also seen the glittering curiosity.
After I shot her uncle, she had been the only one to scan the crowd.
The only one to think that the danger could still be present.
And when she had, her eyes had found me again.
Though I knew I should have left, though I knew I should have returned home and reported the job as complete, I’d been mesmerised by her.
I’d been too blinded by how stunning she looked covered in blood.
I’d been plagued by that image ever since.
I’d never once thought of harming a woman who didn’t deserve it—and trust me when I say there are some evil women in this world.
But for some reason, I wanted to see Isabelle bleed. I wanted her blood painting her skin. I wanted my blood on her skin. I wanted her body stained red with our life essence. I would happily die out, just to see her bathed in the thing that gave me life.
Since then, I’d grown more than a little obsessed over it. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d got myself off thinking of her crying for me, bleeding for me, writhing beneath me in both pleasure and pain.
It was a hard thought to resist.
But I’d known even then that she was a distraction. So I’d kept my distance, letting her enjoy her ridiculous romance with Luca.
With Luca, boundaries had been established.
Everything was behind a screen. And though Isabelle had grown more attached than I’d originally intended, it also wasn’t a major hindrance to my plans.
I’d been content to simply observe and guide when the opportunity presented itself.
Even if she hadn’t realised it was me giving her the clues.
It was only when her father promised her to Adrian that I’d realised… obsessed or not, dangerous or not, I had to take her. I had to prove to her that she was mine.
My gaze drifted across the pages scattered over my desk. They were now filled with Isabelle’s handwriting—timelines, names, book titles. Patterns she had started connecting together. I had copies of every page she wrote on, every observation she made, every theory she scribbled down.
The sight of it stirred something dark and possessive inside my chest.
She was adapting to me specifically.
Not just the basement.
Not captivity.
Me.
She had started recognising my moods before I even entered the room. She noticed changes in my breathing, the clench of my fists, the subtle shifts in posture that most people overlooked entirely. She understood rewards now. Understood displeasure. Understood being observed.
And more dangerous than all of that, she had begun responding intentionally.
The smiles.
The praise.
The soft little thank yous spoken whilst looking directly at me, instead of avoiding my gaze like she had when she’d first arrived here.
She was learning how to influence me.
A smarter man would have stopped it immediately. Instead, I found myself wanting more.
My eyes drifted back to the monitor, settling on the silver choker around her throat. Even now, whilst searching for clues, she still wore it.
Mine.
The thought came naturally now. Effortlessly.
Mine.
The office door opened behind me, but I already knew who it was from the sound of the footsteps alone.
“Oh, for fuck's sake, Silas. This again?”
Rafael’s voice filled the room as he entered, irritation soaked into every word. I didn’t immediately respond, my attention still fixed on Isabelle downstairs as she flipped through one of the books covered in my annotations.
Curious little bird.
“The Vescaris have a shipment arriving tonight. Stanislav is asking where his girl is. You have commitments, Silas. You can’t be sitting here obsessing over that woman,” Rafael snapped.
Slowly, I leaned back in my chair and finally looked at him. Age had weakened parts of him over the years, but not his presence. Men still feared Rafael Falcone instinctively. Politicians feared him. Police feared him. Entire organisations feared him.
But tonight, beneath the anger, I saw something else lingering there too.
Concern.
“When are the girls arriving?” he demanded.
The girls, I scoffed internally. He knew full well when they were arriving. Tuesday at two AM. The same as every week. Auctions on a Saturday. Same as always.
I went back to my computer, loading up the live feed and displayed it for him.
He shuffled closer, bending down to inspect the screen. “Hmm.” He said, observing the twelve terrified women. “Good. I think I’ll bid on the red-head this week. Where is she from?”
I zoomed in on the shipment that said the boat was arriving from Ireland.
“Ahh, Irish. God love ‘em,” he grinned, slapping his hand on my shoulder.
I resisted the urge to shudder.
“You’re to meet Stanislav with the weapons he requested tonight. I trust you will be on time?”
I said nothing. We both knew I always saw a job through to completion.
“Handle this, Silas,” he sighed. “We can’t have a repeat of last week.”
I chuckled under my breath as I remembered last week.
Adrien had sent spies onto my estate searching for Isabelle. Into my home. Looking for what belonged to me.
I’d repaid the favour by returning his men to him. Skinned. And draped across his bed as a blanket.
I’d branded one of them with Isabelle’s name as an extra added touch.
Rafael watched me carefully, as though waiting for some sign of instability to crack through the surface.
“Every police force in the country is looking for that girl,” he said eventually.
“Airports are being monitored. Borders are being monitored. Vescari is throwing around enough money to buy entire governments if it means finding her. It’s making our livelihoods difficult, son. ”
As though we weren’t already facing difficulties running all the illegal operations we did.
I was well aware of the… adjustments that needed to be made. Adrien and Vittorio were already convinced Isabelle had been trafficked. Vittorio assumed it was due to his connection with the mob, and repayment for his own crimes. He assumed he had pissed off the wrong person.
Which he had.
Me.
I had assumed Adrien would grow bored given enough time. And once he was out of the picture, I could easily convince Vittorio to back off. I should have known better. My little bird was impossible to grow tired of.
My attention shifted back towards the monitors again before I could stop myself. Downstairs, Isabelle had moved closer to the shelf, her fingers gliding carefully along the wood as she searched for hidden details.
Pride settled heavily in my chest.
She was close now.
So fucking close.
Rafael followed my gaze toward the screens and exhaled sharply through his nose. “You should have fucked her the first night you brought her here.”
I ignored him. He wouldn’t get a response from me.
“She’d be out of your system by now if you’d have fucked her. We could have easily staged it to make it look like she was randomly attacked. There are thousands of people in this city wearing masks. You would never have been considered a suspect if she said a masked man attacked her and raped her.”
Raped her.
I had no intention of raping her.
Isabelle would give herself to me freely or not at all.
“I’m giving you until the end of the month, Silas.
This is getting out of control, and I’m sick of talking about her in every meeting.
She’s even being spoken about in the underground channels.
They want her just for the bounty they’d receive as a reward.
Kill her, or impregnate her. Secure the heir, or get rid.
I’m sick of indulging you. If you won’t do it, mark my words—I will. ”
My jaw tightened beneath the mask, and my fists clenched inside the gloves. My grandfather didn’t notice.
But Isabelle would have.
I shut all the other cameras down and focused back on my woman. Behind me, Rafael sighed heavily before walking out of the office.
Isabelle finally found the indentation beneath the shelf.
My chest tightened instantly as excitement sharpened her entire expression. She looked alive again down there. Curious. Focused. Engaged.
Beautiful.
As much as I didn’t want this to end, I was so looking forward to the next stage in the game.
Every day Isabelle dug herself deeper beneath my skin. Every day she looked at me with less fear and more understanding. Every day she adapted to me in ways no one else ever had.
I wanted more of it like a starving man wanting his next breath. And considering what I had planned next, her new skills would benefit me greatly.
When my eyes drifted back to the monitor and I saw Isabelle press against the hidden mechanism, watching the wall slowly shift open with wide eyes and parted lips, I felt absolutely no regret.
Only pride.
“That’s it, little bird,” I murmured quietly to the screen, my voice coming freely now that I was alone. “Look deeper.”