Chapter 6

ISADORA

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on him, I swear. I was just looking for Rafael. Luca had told me to take him with me to shop for my school materials. One of his men directed me to his office, and that’s when I heard it.

Luca’s voice, sharp and angry, cut through the door like a blade. He was talking about The Scorpions. What the hell is that? And then… my dad? A trafficking ring?

There’s something going on, something big and no one is telling me about it. My chest felt tight as I stood there, frozen. I can’t just sit here in the dark. I have to find out what’s happening, especially if it involves my dad.

Trying to shake off the unease curling in my stomach, I texted Laura to let her know I’d be back at school next week. Within minutes, my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen.

“Oh my God, Isa!” she squealed the moment I picked up. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Are you really coming back?”

“Yes, I’ll be there next week,” I said, forcing myself to sound more excited than I felt.

We spent hours catching up. Laura rattled on about the usual—lectures, gossip, and the one professor who always seemed to have it out for us. I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, even though my mind kept drifting back to what I overheard.

As the conversation lulled, I wandered to my window, cradling the phone in my hand. That’s when I saw him, Luca. He stormed out of the house, his jaw set, his shoulders rigid with tension. Rafael was right behind him, moving quickly to keep up.

Something had set him off, and I had a feeling it had everything to do with what I overheard earlier. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Toward noon, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

"I know your predicament. I can help you escape."

My heart raced as I stared at the screen. Who could’ve sent this? Only my mom and dad knew I was here with Luca, not even Laura had a clue.

I hesitated for a moment before typing back, "Who are you?"

Five minutes later, a reply came.

"Your well-wisher."

Well-wisher? My stomach twisted in suspicion. It didn’t sit right. Could it be Luca? Was he testing me, trying to see if I’d take the bait?

I decided to ignore the text. Picking up my novel, I tried to distract myself, but the words blurred on the page as my thoughts spiraled. Who was this person? How did they know where I was? And why now?

Eventually, I gave up and decided to take a walk around the house. I needed to clear my head.

The house was massive, a maze of hallways and rooms, some of which I hadn’t even explored yet. As always, there were guards everywhere. They pretended not to notice me, but I wasn’t stupid. Their eyes followed my every move.

I wandered aimlessly until I stumbled across a door I hadn’t seen before. It was tucked away at the end of a hallway, almost hidden. Was it a basement? A storage room? I couldn’t tell, but curiosity got the best of me.

I twisted the knob. It was unlocked.

Inside, the air was cool and faintly musty. The room was packed with items covered in transparent plastic, probably things they no longer used. Boxes were stacked haphazardly, and furniture leaned against the walls, shrouded like ghosts.

Something caught my eye, a book on one of the shelves. It looked old, its leather cover cracked and worn, but it had been carefully preserved. I pulled it out and flipped it open.

The first photo stopped me cold. A beautiful redhead in a wedding dress stared back at me, her smile radiant and soft. She was stunning, her eyes full of joy. My heart skipped a beat as I read the tag beneath the photo "Alicia Garcia."

Luca’s dead wife.

I stood there, frozen, staring at her face. Memories of whispered conversations flooded back to me, rumors that Luca had killed his wife in cold blood. It was something everyone in high society had speculated about but no one dared to say to his face.

As I looked at her picture, my chest tightened. Could the rumors be true? Could Luca really have killed her? And if he did… what did that mean for me?

The sound of footsteps outside the door snapped me out of my thoughts. Panicked, I quickly slid the album back onto the shelf and stepped out of the room, my heart racing. I didn’t want to find out what would happen if Luca caught me in there.

I didn’t get far before I came face-to-face with him.

“Done snooping around?” he sneered, his voice laced with that dangerous edge I was starting to recognize all too well.

“I wasn’t—”

“Be truthful for once,” he cut me off, his tone sharp enough to make me flinch. He stepped closer, his towering presence making the hallway feel even smaller. “Come on, ask me.”

“Ask you what?” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he was piecing together. “You don’t think I see those wheels in your head turning? Or the thousand questions you’ve got sitting right there on the tip of your tongue?”

“I—”

“Ask me,” he said again, softer this time but no less commanding.

The words caught in my throat. My mind raced back to the album, to the photo of Alicia, her radiant smile, and the rumors that had haunted Luca for years. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I swallowed hard, the question burning on my tongue. “Did you…” I hesitated, my chest tightening. “Did you kill her?”

His entire body froze. For a moment, it felt like the air was sucked out of the room. His blue eyes locked onto mine, icy and unreadable.

“That’s the question you want to ask me?” His voice was dangerously quiet, each word clipped and deliberate.

I couldn’t back down now, even as fear clawed at my throat. “It’s what they say about you,” I whispered. “People say you—”

“People say a lot of things, Isadora,” he cut me off, stepping closer. His presence was suffocating, his gaze like a blade slicing through my resolve. “Do you believe them?”

“I don’t know what to believe,” I admitted, my voice trembling.

He stared at me for a long, agonizing moment before letting out a cold laugh, one that sent chills down my spine. “Be careful what answers you go looking for,” he said, his tone sharp enough to cut. “You might not like what you find.”

And just like that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding and the haunting realization that I might’ve just poked the beast. Did he do it? Or was I too scared to know the truth?