Writer's POV
In thirty seconds, Isabella picked the lock on her bedroom door. For two hours, she had been waiting for the guards to settle in while feigning sleep. She was now standing in the dimly lit hallway, listening for footsteps while her heart was racing.
Nothing. There was utter silence in the mountain house. Too quiet.
When Isabella was twelve years old, she learned how to pick locks. "Every Romano needs to know how to get out of tight spots," her father had taught her. Back then, it had seemed like a harmless game to her. It had been training, she realized now. Like everything else in her life.
Her bare feet were silent on the wooden floors as she slipped down the hallway. Three hours prior, Marco had brought her here, shown her a lovely bedroom, and instructed her to take a nap. He had been courteous but aloof, treating her more like a visitor than a prisoner.
Isabella, however, was wiser. The windows were secured. From the outside, the door had been locked. Additionally, guards were present everywhere.
There were supposed to be guards everywhere, anyway. So, where was everyone?
Isabella arrived at the main staircase without anyone in sight. It seemed as though everyone had simply vanished from the house. Outside, she could hear the creak of old wood and the wind, but no voices. No footsteps. No guards were moving or speaking.
There was a serious problem.
Testing each step to make sure it wouldn't creak, Isabella slipped down the stairs. She froze when she heard something halfway down.
Weeping. Down in the living room, someone was crying. Don't cry loudly or theatrically. Heartbroken, silent tears. The kind of tears that resulted from intense suffering.
Isabella stayed in the shadows and walked toward the sound. She could see into the living room from the bottom of the stairs. Marco's shoulders were trembling as he sat on the couch with his head in his hands. He was in tears.
Like a lost child, the dangerous man who had abducted her from her own wedding was in tears.
Isabella ought to have taken off running. This was her opportunity to get away while he was preoccupied. She stayed to watch, though, for some reason.
From his pocket, Marco took out a picture. Isabella could see it was a photo of a young girl with dark hair and a big smile, even from where she was hiding. Sofia.
"I apologize," Marco muttered to the picture. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Sofia. I'm so sorry."
Isabella experienced some heartbreak. This was not the dangerous, frigid man who had abducted her. This was merely an older brother who was missing his younger sister.
After wiping his eyes, Marco took out his phone. "I'm at the safe house, Rico. What did you learn about the spy?"
Isabella took a step forward to listen to the discussion.
Marco's voice hardened as he asked, "Are you sure?" "You're positive it's him?"
A pause.
"Has he been employed by them for three years? Since shortly after Sofia's death?"
Isabella's blood froze. Since Sofia's passing, the Santoros had been betrayed by someone. Someone who knows Marco well.
Marco's voice broke as he said, "No." "Don't do anything just yet. I need to think about this. Because he taught me everything I know, Rico, and he's like a father to me."
Isabella's thoughts were racing. For three years, Marco had been deceived by someone he trusted like a father. Someone who was present when Sofia passed away. Someone who had failed to intervene after witnessing Marco's suffering.
"Just... just keep watching him," Marco said. "I'll be back in the city tomorrow, and we'll figure out what to do. Don't let him know we suspect anything."
After hanging up, Marco tossed his phone across the room. It broke when it struck the wall. He asked the empty room, "Why?" "Why would he harm me in this way?"
Isabella should run, she knew. This was her opportunity. Marco was distraught and preoccupied. There was no sign of the guards. She might be able to find assistance in the woods.
Instead, though, she emerged from the shadows.
"Because he's not working for my father," she muttered.
Marco whirled, reaching for his gun. However, he simply appeared worn out when he saw Isabella.
"How did you leave your room?"
"I picked the lock. It wasn't very hard."
"And you didn't run?"
Isabella gave a headshake. "I stayed to listen."
Marco looked at her face. "Why?"
"Because I believe I know who has been scheming against you."
Marco's gaze became piercing. "Who?"
Isabella remarked, "The same person who's been betraying my family." "The same individual who desires the destruction of both our families."
To avoid giving Marco the impression that she was dangerous, she sat down on the couch across from him while keeping her hands visible.
She said, "Tell me about the spy."
"Someone who has been with your family for a long time and whom you trust like a father."
"My uncle, Lorenzo Santoro, is my father's brother and has been my advisor since my father passed away five years ago," Marco said after he paused.
Isabella's thoughts began to come together. "Is all of your family's business accessible to him?"
"He's my second-in-command, of course."
"And he was present when Sofia passed away?"
Marco's face turned white. "He told me she was safe at school, and he was supposed to be protecting her."
"But she was in the car that exploded, so she wasn't safe, was she?"
"The car that was supposed to be mine," Marco muttered. "My car was being repaired that day, so Sofia took mine after someone informed the Romanos which one I would be in."
Isabella felt her heart sink. "Marco, it appears that your uncle has been collaborating with a member of my family who has been providing information to both sides."
"That's not possible. Sofia was killed by your family."
"Did we? Or did someone make it appear that we did?"
Marco gazed at her. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that three years ago, someone wanted to start a war between our families. They gave both sides false information, made sure Sofia was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and made sure you blamed my family for her death."
Marco's face turned pale. "You believe Sofia was murdered by Lorenzo?"
"I believe that someone who wanted our families to destroy one another assisted Lorenzo in killing Sofia."
Marco remained silent for a while. "If that's true, then everything I've done for three years has been a lie. Every attack, every death, every moment of pain..." he continued.
Isabella concluded, "Has been exactly what someone wanted."
Marco examined the picture of Sofia he was holding. "But why? Why would anyone want our families to fight?"
Isabella considered all she had discovered. Regarding her father's enigmatic schemes. Regarding Marco's organization's spy. About how it had all been planned.
"Because there won't be anything left after we're done fighting each other—no Romano family, no Santoro family—just pieces that someone else can pick up," she explained.
Marco gave her a fresh perspective. "Someone wants to occupy both of our areas."
"Someone who has been patient enough to play a very long game, someone who has been planning this for years."
"But who?"
Just as Isabella opened her mouth to respond, the lights went out. The whole house went dark. No power. No warmth. No security system.
Marco drew his gun and whispered, "Stay close to me."
Isabella took hold of his arm. "Where are your guards?"
"I don't know. They should be here."
There was a noise outside. automobiles. Numerous vehicles are ascending the mountain road.
Running to the window, Marco peered out. "A minimum of twenty cars are approaching the driveway."
"Is it your men?"
"No, that's not how my men drive cars."
Isabella glanced behind him. She could see the headlights approaching even in the dark. "Who is it?"
"Whoever it is, they're not here to help us."
Isabella's hand was taken by Marco. "We must leave this place immediately."
Before they could make it to the back door, the front door exploded inward as they ran toward it. Armed with automatic weapons, men wearing black masks poured into the house.
Marco yelled, "Go!" and pushed Isabella in the direction of the kitchen.
However, it was too late. There were men everywhere. blocking all of the exits. all around them.
One of the men in masks moved forward and took it off.
Isabella's world came to a halt.
Anthony Ricci was the one. Her ex-fiance. The man who was meant to be weak, safe, and unthreatening.
Anthony said, "Hello, Isabella," but his smile was nothing like the gentle man she had known. "I hope you don't mind that I crashed this little party. I'm sorry about the wedding."
Marco's gun went up, but Anthony's men were quicker. On Marco's chest, laser sights emerged.
"If I were you, I wouldn't do that," Anthony stated coolly. "I've been manipulating your lives for the past three years, and I'd hate to have to kill you before I tell you why."
The world seemed to be spinning around Isabella. "You are the one who has been—" "Anthony?"
"Controlling both of your families? Yes. Initiating the conflict that resulted in Sofia's death? Yes. Setting up your abduction today? Yes."
Isabella's legs were weak. "But why?"
Anthony grinned icily and cruelly. "Because, my dear Isabella, I've been very patient, and someone has to pick up the pieces when two powerful families destroy each other."
Marco was outnumbered twenty to one, but his gun was still aimed at Anthony. Marco's voice was deadly quiet as he said, "You killed my sister."
Anthony clarified, "I killed your sister to start a war." "And now, in order to complete it, I will kill you both."
Isabella's thoughts were racing. For three years, Anthony had been preparing this. He had been the man that everyone trusted, the safe option, and the impartial party. He had been playing them all, too.
Isabella remarked, "The families will never follow you." "You will never be accepted as their leader by them."
Anthony remarked, "They will when I'm the one who avenges your deaths." "When I am the one to bring justice to the monsters who have ruined two wonderful families."
"You're insane," Marco remarked.
"I'm ambitious," Anthony answered. "There's a difference."
He gave his men a nod. "Kill both of them. Make it appear as though they killed each other. Murder-suicide. Very tragic."
Isabella took Marco by the arm. "I apologize for putting you in this situation."
Marco remarked, "You didn't get me into anything." "Both of us were played."
Isabella knew she would die without ever knowing who she truly was as Anthony's men raised their weapons. without ever learning the true nature of her father's plans. without ever being given the opportunity to live her own life.
However, Marco took a step that altered everything.
"The basement! There's a tunnel!" he yelled, tossing his gun to Isabella.
As Marco charged directly at Anthony's men, Isabella grabbed the gun and used his body as a shield to give her time to flee.
Isabella cried out, "Marco, no!"
However, Marco was already engaged in combat, hurling himself at armed men in an attempt to save her life.
Gunshots exploded behind Isabella as she ran toward the basement door. She heard Marco yell her name one final time as she arrived at the stairs.
Then there was silence.