Chapter 8
Again.
“I thought I could handle it,” he said quietly.
Isabella looked at him.
“That sentence is becoming a problem.”
Lorenzo watched them carefully.
Perhaps expecting anger.
Perhaps expecting fear.
Instead, Isabella stepped fully into the office.
“What happened?”
Dante hesitated.
Then he answered.
“A rival family discovered information about our operations.”
“What information?”
“Financial routes. Security locations. Names.”
“And?”
His jaw tightened.
“And your name was mentioned.”
The room became colder.
Isabella understood immediately.
Not because she lived in Dante’s world.
Because she had finally learned how it worked.
People did not attack powerful men directly.
They attacked what powerful men loved.
“Who?”
“We’re investigating.”
“No.”
Dante looked at her.
“No?”
“You don’t get to investigate while I sit at home waiting for someone else to decide whether I’m safe.”
Lorenzo almost smiled.
Not kindly.
Like he had underestimated her and was enjoying discovering his mistake.
“She has spirit.”
Dante’s eyes moved toward him.
“Careful.”
The warning was quiet.
But everyone in the room understood.
Lorenzo raised his hands.
“I’m only saying she may be more useful than we expected.”
Isabella looked at him.
“I’m not a tool.”
The smile disappeared.
“I’m aware.”
“Good.”
She turned back to Dante.
“I want the truth.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
“Okay.”
One word.
But it meant everything.
Because this time, he did not decide what she could handle.
He told her.
***
The threat came from someone Isabella never expected.
Valentina.
Not because she betrayed them.
Because someone had used her.
The attack on her apartment months earlier had never been random.
Someone wanted Valentina to return to Dante.
Someone wanted old rumors to spread.
Someone wanted Isabella to believe she was replaceable.
The entire situation had been designed to create division.
And for a moment, it had worked.
Not because Isabella was insecure.
Because Dante had given the enemy the perfect opening.
He had kept secrets.
He had made decisions alone.
He had created distance between himself and the woman who trusted him.
The enemy had simply pushed the door he had already unlocked.
When Dante finished explaining, Isabella sat quietly.
“So this entire thing…”
“Was planned.”
“To separate us.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“And they almost succeeded.”
The honesty hurt.
But Dante nodded.
“Yes.”
No excuses.
No defense.
Just the truth.
***
Two days later, Isabella received a message.
No number.
No name.