HIDDEN AGENDAS

Isabella’s POV

The house made one feel like a prison. Every stride I made reflected back to me, a reminder that I was imprisoned and that I could not flee the storm building around me. After my meeting with my father and Enzo, I had left the warehouse, but the weight of their words still tormented me.

It was all too much: Marco's cryptic warnings, Enzo's icy determination, and the sense that something far more was at work. I became aware for the first time of exactly how little I could influence my life. My father had sold me like a commodity, and Enzo still considered me as part of this complex game of power even if he had an unusual feeling of guardianship over me. I found myself in the midst with no obvious exit.

Perched at my room's big window, I saw the city lights flutter far away. From here, the world seemed to be so calm, but I knew otherwise. Underneath the gleaming surface lurked darkness, peril hiding in every shadow.

Though I didn't live on this planet, I was somehow being pulled into its depths and had to figure out how to survive.

The gentle knock on my door brought me back to reality. Half-expecting it to be Enzo, delivering another cryptic warning, or maybe Sofia with her cold glares and unsaid threats, I got up.

But it was neither when I unlocked the door.

Standing there was a man I had never seen before. He had calm assurance about himself, was tall and broad-shouldered. His black eyes fixed me closely, and for a split second I knew nothing to say.

"Who are you?," ask My voice more harshly than I had meant.

Though it did not reach his eyes, he grinned. Matteo is the name used here. Enzo mailed me.

"Enzo? " My brow wriggled. "Why?," asos

Matteo said, his voice cool and understated: "He thought you might need someone to keep an eye on things." " Considering current affairs."

I crossed my arms and felt annoyed. "I have no need of a bodyguard."

Matteo's facial expression stayed the same. "It's not about your need here. It is about what is wise. Ren's growing braver, and your father... Let's just say he's not the only one with a strong interest in your safety.

I fixed him, my head whirling. This person was who? And why, with all that had previously transpired, did Enzo believe I needed him now?

But Matteo moved ahead, his eyes never straying from mine before I could ask any more inquiries. Look, I can see you mistrust me. Before they improve, though, things are likely to become worse. Enzo aims to keep you out from the crossfire.

I'm sure whether to scream or laugh. From the time he entered my life, he has been keeping me in the center of the crossfire.

Matteo's face softened a little, and for a second I saw something quite like pity in his eyes. "Maybe. But Isabella, there are others playing this game as well. Others out there consider you as a means of injury to him. And they will not think twice to utilize you.

Though I kept my face expressionless, I felt a cold rush down my spine. "Who??"

Matteo stopped, his black eyes deepening. "That is the thing." Not yet is what we know. Still, we are really near.

Though I sensed he was not telling me everything, I was not inclined to press him. Actually, I had no idea whom I could rely on going forward. Enzo kept me in the dark about so much; now, additional players lurked in the shadows, just ready to attack.

"Fine," I answered at last. "But you best be ready if you are here to guard me. I'm not going to sit about and let this happen to me.

Matteo's lips quenched to produce a little smile. That's what Enzo said you would say.

His turn and walk away before I could reply left me standing in the doorway, my mind racing.

The hours went slowly, each one dragging on while I tried to organize my room. Matteo's words kept coming back to me; others out there intended to use me to damage Enzo. But who? < And why?

The sensation that something large and deadly was approaching persisted in me. I ought to have been ready.

I was taken from my thoughts by a quiet tap on my door. Though I half-expected it to be Matteo once more, when I unlocked the door it was not him.

Sofia it was.

Her frigid green eyes fixed me, and I could see the strain radiating from her. She didn't grin and she didn't make any of her customary caustic comments. Rather, she entered the space locking the door behind her.

"We have to talk," she continued, her voice low and deliberate.

I crossed my arms and became rather agitated. "What now, Sofia?" Come to tell me that I am once more a liability.

Her eyes blazed with something I had not seen before—fear. This is not a game, Isabella. Change is happening here. fast.

I scowled, then became abruptly tense. "What are you meant to mean?"

Looking about the room, Sofia seemed to be checking whether we were under observation. " Someone fresh is visiting town. Someone potent. And they are moving as well.

"Who?"

Sofia stammered, her jaw tightening. "A guy going by Vincenzo Moretti. He had been off the grid for years, but just now he is back. He is also going for Enzo.

I started to feel my gut slump. "Moretti?" That name comes from past experience.

Sofia nodded sombrely. "You ought to own. Among the most potent criminal lords in the city used to be him. But he vanished following a falling-out with Enzo's father. Nobody had heard from him since. Up until now.

Backing off, I tried to understand what she was saying. Then, what? Moretti's back for retaliation?

"Something like that," Sofia said in a tense voice. "He is not only following Enzo. He targets the whole De Luca enterprise.

My heart sped when I fixed my gaze on her. And he will use me to do it?

Though Sofia spoke slowly at first, her eyes gave me everything I needed to know. This transcended Enzo now as well. About myself. And I found myself in the heart of a conflict I hardly understood.

"What do you wish for me, Sofia?" My voice quivering somewhat, I asked.

"I want you to stay out of this," she continued, her voice kind but strong. "Enzo's trying to protect you, but he can't do that if you're running about getting involved in things you don't understand."

I tightened my hands, rage flooding me. "I am not a child, Sofia. I am not going to sit back and let events pass me by.

Her brows narrowed, and I detected for the first time a flutter of respect in her look. No, I doubt you will. Remember, nevertheless, that there are uncontrollably acting forces here. And you will find yourself the one injured if you are not careful.

I ignored her turning and exited the room, left by myself with my thoughts once again. But this time I was not only terrified. I was enraged.

Vincenzzo Moretti. I knew a man who was aiming for Enzo, and somehow I was going to be the tool he used to kill him.

Moretti was mistaken, though, if he considered me as merely some weak puppet.

I was not going to allow him or anybody else to use me once again.

That evening, sleep did not come naturally. I twisted and turned, my head playing over Sofia's cautions and Matteo's mysterious comments. I could not sit around waiting for whatever was about to arrive. I had questions and sought responses. I had to know exactly what was happening.

The following morning, I formed ideas. I wouldn't wait for Enzo or Sofia to provide bits and pieces of data when it fit them. I was about to face Enzo personally.

He was in his office gazing grimly at his phone. He laid the phone down and narrowed his blue eyes slightly as I walked in.

Not thinking through politeness, I responded, "I need to know the truth."

Leaning back in his chair, Enzo gave me close examination. "What truth?,"

Crossing my arms, I murmured, "Moretti." "Who else is he? Why is he following you as well?

Enzo did not answer for a minute. He groaned again, running a hand over his hair. "Moretti once ran half of the city." Years ago, my father struck a deal with him, but things turned sour. Moretti vanished when my father severed relations.

"And now he's back," I murmured, my voice strained.

Enzo nodded with a grim look. Alright. And he is not here to be friendly.

As I watched him, my heart hammered. Then me? Where in this do I fit?

Enzo's jaw tightened, and for a few seconds I assumed he wouldn't reply. Still, he said, his voice low and strained. Moretti considers you to be leveraged. He believes he may get to me via you. And he is not incorrect.

I sensed a cold sweep through.