Chapter 64 The Night You Saved Him
Isabella — POV
Moretti suddenly laughed.
Not the quiet, controlled laugh he had been using all night.
This one was different.
Excited.
Almost giddy.
“Well,” he said, clapping his hands together once. “I guess I’ll tell her myself.”
Alexander’s entire body went rigid.
“Moretti—”
But Moretti ignored him.
He turned toward me, his eyes gleaming like he had just been handed the most entertaining secret in the world.
“Do you remember something, Isabella?”
My heart was already pounding too hard.
“What?”
Moretti tilted his head slightly, studying my face like he was enjoying every second of this.
“Ten years ago.”
A cold ripple slid through my chest.
“You were fifteen.”
My stomach twisted.
“You remember that night, don’t you?” he continued slowly. “The night your father was murdered.”
My breath caught.
The memory hit me instantly.
Blood.
So much blood.
My hands shaking, covered in it, trying desperately to stop the bleeding from my father’s chest. Pressing my hands against the wound, begging him to stay alive while his eyes slowly rolled back.
I could still see it.
I could still feel it.
I would never forget that night.
I still had nightmares about it.
Darkness.
Cold rain falling outside the broken warehouse roof.
The concrete floor soaked red with my father’s blood.
Moretti’s smile widened when he saw the recognition in my eyes.
“The teenager you helped escape.”
My fingers curled tightly against the ropes binding my wrists.
Yes.
I remembered.
The boy trapped inside that metal storage container.
Bruised.
Terrified.
Barely conscious.
I had helped him get out.
I had helped him run.
And then he was gone.
I had spent years wondering what happened to him.
Why he disappeared without saying goodbye.
Whether he had seen the man who shot my father.
Whether he knew who killed him.
Moretti chuckled softly.
Then he gestured toward Alexander.
“You really never figured it out?”
My eyes slowly moved toward Alexander.
His face had gone completely pale.
My chest tightened.
“Alexander?” I whispered.
Moretti leaned closer to me.
“The boy you saved,” he said slowly.
“The one trapped inside that storage container.”
My stomach dropped.
“The one you helped escape.”
He pointed directly at Alexander.
“That boy was him.”
The world stopped.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
“No…”
I turned fully toward Alexander.
“You…?”
Before he could even speak—
Alexander moved.
Fast.
Faster than I had ever seen him move.
He lunged straight toward Moretti.
The sudden movement sent shock through the entire room.
Men instantly raised their guns.
“Stop!”
“Don’t move!”
But Alexander didn’t stop.
He kept walking toward Moretti like he didn’t care if every gun in the room fired at once.
“Shut the fuck up,” Alexander snarled.
His voice was raw.
Dangerous.
Moretti’s men cocked their weapons.
“Stop right there!”
Alexander didn’t slow down.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
Moretti’s smile faded slightly.
For the first time, irritation flashed across his face.
Alexander kept moving.
Step after step.
Ignoring every gun pointed at him.
Ignoring every warning.
Moretti finally lifted a hand.
Then calmly pulled a gun from his waistband.
And pointed it directly at my head.
Everything stopped.
Alexander froze instantly.
The change in him was immediate.
Like someone had slammed a wall in front of him.
His chest rose sharply.
Once.
Twice.
And the rage in his eyes was suddenly replaced with something else.
Fear.
“Please,” Alexander said quietly.
His voice broke slightly.
“Moretti… stop.”
Moretti watched him carefully.
The power shift in the room was obvious.
Alexander’s shoulders dropped slightly.
“Take me,” he said hoarsely.
“Do whatever you want to me.”
His eyes never left mine.
“But let her go.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“Please,” he repeated.
Moretti laughed softly.
“You really think I’m going to let her walk out of here without the best part?”
Alexander shook his head once.
“Don’t.”
Moretti stepped closer.
“You really think I’m going to let her leave still believing you’re the good guy?”
Alexander’s voice cracked with desperation.
“Moretti, please—”
“No.”
Moretti turned back to me.
His eyes were bright now.
Almost excited.
“She deserves to know.”
My mind was spinning.
Ten years ago.
That boy…
That boy had been Alexander.
My Alexander.
I could barely process what Moretti was saying.
Everything felt unreal.
Moretti leaned closer to me, his voice low and deliberate.
“Do you know what happened after you helped him escape that container?”
My stomach twisted violently.
“What…?”
Moretti’s smile widened, like he had been waiting years to tell this story.
“The men came outside looking for him,” he said. “Your father was there too.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“Your father wasn’t trying to hurt him,” Moretti continued. “In fact, he was trying to stop the others.”
My breathing became shallow.
“He told the men to lower their guns,” Moretti said calmly. “He didn’t want them to shoot the boy.”
My mind raced.
No.
That couldn’t be right.
Moretti kept talking.
“Your father stepped toward him. Slowly. Carefully.”
His eyes flicked toward Alexander.
“And that’s when Alexander pulled out a gun he had taken from inside the warehouse.”
My heart began pounding harder.
“No…”
Moretti’s voice remained steady.
“He shot him.”
The word echoed inside my head.
Shot.
“It wasn’t an accident,” Moretti added coldly. “He knew exactly who your father was.”
My entire body went numb.
“He knew who that man was to you,” Moretti continued quietly. “He knew how much you loved him.”
My chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.
“And he still pulled the trigger.”
Silence swallowed the warehouse.
Moretti’s final words fell like a hammer.
“He killed your father that night.”
My heart stopped.
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Author’s Note:
Don’t worry, this isn’t the end of the story. There’s much more coming. I’ll be uploading a few more chapters later today, so stay tuned. Thank you so much for reading and supporting the story. Your excitement and comments truly mean a lot!