Chapter 65
The fancy hideout was glowing with soft candlelight, the air filled with the smell of expensive wine and something else-trouble.
Isabella wasn't even touching her food. She was too busy watching the woman sitting across from her.
Sophia.
She had blonde hair that looked like she had just stepped out of a salon, a smug little smile on her face, and worst of all, she was sitting way too close to Enzo.
She swirled her wine like she had all the time in the world like she was a part of their team and not just some unexpected problem that had landed in Isabella's lap.
"So," Sophia said, stretching out in her seat like she owned the place. "I heard something interesting about Moretti. He's got a shipment coming in soon, and it's not just weapons this time. There's something much bigger on board."
Enzo's hand froze halfway to his mouth, his fork hovering in the air. "What kind of something?"
Sophia's grin widened. "Names. Bank accounts. Every shady deal he's ever done."
Isabella narrowed her eyes. "And you just happened to find out about this?"
Sophia ignored her. Instead, she leaned in closer to Enzo, touching his arm, and whispered something only he could hear.
Isabella didn't know what she said, but she saw the effect immediately.
His whole body went stiff.
That moment of hesitation.
That little flicker of doubt.
Isabella's fingers tightened around her knife.
Sophia leaned back, looking satisfied, her eyes twinkling like she had just won some secret game.
Enzo let out a sharp breath and looked at Isabella. "We don't have a choice. We need her help."
Isabella clenched her fists under the table.
The ballroom was a mix of danger and elegance.
Huge golden chandeliers dripped with crystals, making the room glow. The place was packed with criminals, spies, and powerful people, all moving around, making shady deals, laughing too loudly, and sipping expensive champagne.
Isabella adjusted her mask, the cool silver against her skin making her feel like she was playing a role in a dangerous game.
Beside her, Enzo was in a sharp black suit, his mask just as dark. He held out his hand.
"Dance with me," he whispered.
She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"If we just stand here, people will start paying attention." A smirk played on his lips. "And besides, we're being watched."
She sighed but took his hand.
As they danced, his hands resting on her waist, Isabella kept her mind on the plan. The secret files they needed were somewhere in Moretti's office. They had to get to them before the night was over.
But right now, Enzo was looking at her like she was the most interesting thing in the room.
"You should wear dresses more often," he murmured in her ear.
She smirked. "Don't count on it."
They moved in sync, every step calculated, every turn smooth. They looked like just another couple enjoying the night.
And then-
Something changed.
A presence. A shift in the air.
A voice. Low. Familiar. Dangerous.
"Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you?"
Isabella's whole body went rigid.
Moretti.
He was right behind her, wearing a mask, but she didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling.
The dance had just turned into a trap.
Moretti's office was exactly what she expected-huge, fancy, and full of expensive things that screamed power. The oversized desk in the middle looked more like a throne than a workspace.
And now, Isabella was sitting across from it. Alone.
She had no idea where Enzo was. One moment, she was on the dance floor, Moretti's voice making her blood run cold. The next, she had been separated from Enzo, dragged through hidden hallways, and dumped here.
Now, Moretti sat across from her, watching her like a cat watching a mouse.
"You're impressive, Isabella," he said, his voice smooth. "You're smart. Dangerous. I respect that."
She crossed her arms. "If this is your way of offering me a job, I'm not interested."
Moretti chuckled. "I'm not asking you to work for me. I'm offering you something better."
She tilted her head, pretending to be curious. "I'm listening."
His smirk deepened. "Leave Enzo."
His words filled the room, heavy like a threat wrapped in a promise.
"If you walk away from him, I'll let you go," he continued. "No more running. No more hiding. You'll be safe. You'll have power."
Isabella let out a short, dry laugh. "That's your big offer? Betray the man I-" She stopped herself just in time, her throat tightening.
But Moretti saw it.
His smile grew.
"You don't have to love him, Isabella," he said, his voice almost gentle. "But we both know he's doomed. You, on the other hand you're too smart to throw your life away for him."
Isabella leaned forward slightly, her fingers brushing the edge of the desk.
She had played this game before.
She knew exactly what to do now.
She let her expression soften. Let her lips part just a little.
Then, slowly, she stood up.
Walked around the desk.
Got close enough to feel the heat of his breath.
Moretti didn't move; she just watched her with quiet amusement. "That's a start."
She smiled.
Then, in one swift move, she reached for the hidden knife in her dress.
Before she could even swing it, Moretti's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist like a steel trap.
His grip was solid.
His smirk was still there, unchanged.
"Now, now, Isabella." His voice was almost amused. "That wasn't very polite."
Her pulse pounded.
For the first time that night she realized she had just walked into a corner.
And there was no easy way out.