Isabella stared out the car window as city lights blurred past. Aldo sat beside her, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his phone.
"Where exactly are we going?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Aldo didn't look at her. "To Mr. Vincenzo's estate. You'll be working there until your father's debt is paid."
"And how long will that take?"
"That depends on how valuable you make yourself." His phone buzzed. He glanced at it and frowned as Isabella hugged her small bag against her chest. The city streets gave way to winding roads flanked by tall trees and high walls hiding expensive homes.
"We're almost there," Aldo said, slowing the car as they approached massive iron gates. "When we get inside, keep your head down and your mouth shut. Understand?"
Isabella nodded, her throat tight with fear. The gates swung open automatically as the car rolled up a long driveway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges.
At the end stood a sprawling mansion, its windows glowing with warm light that felt anything but welcoming. Aldo parked and yanked Isabella's arm. "Come on."
She stumbled out of the car, the gravel crunching beneath her shoes. The night air was cold against her face.
A woman with sharp features and graying hair stood at the entrance. Her thin lips pressed into a disapproving line as she looked Isabella up and down. "This is the new girl?" the woman asked, her voice as cold as her eyes.
"Yes, Mrs. Bianchi," Aldo replied. "Mr. Vincenzo wants her working in the main house." Mrs. Bianchi sniffed. "She looks weak. Can she even scrub a floor properly?"
Isabella straightened her shoulders. "I can work hard." The woman's eyebrows shot up. "Did I give you permission to speak?"
Isabella dropped her gaze to the ground, heart hammering in her chest. "Take her to the servants' quarters," Aldo said. "Get her cleaned up and dressed appropriately. Mr. Vincenzo has guests coming tomorrow night. She needs to be ready."
"Very well." Mrs. Bianchi grabbed Isabella's bag. "Follow me, girl." Isabella glanced back at Aldo, who was already returning to his car.
"Wait," she called. "How do I contact my parents?" She asked as Aldo laughed. "You don't."
He got into his car and drove away, leaving Isabella alone with the stone-faced housekeeper.
Mrs. Bianchi led her through a side entrance into a narrow hallway. The difference between the opulent main hall and the servants' area was stark bare walls, dim lighting, and worn flooring.
"You'll sleep here with the other staff," Mrs. Bianchi said, opening a door to reveal a small room with four beds. Only one was unoccupied. "That's yours. The bathroom is down the hall. Shared with everyone."
Isabella placed her bag on the bed. "How many people work here?" "Eight in the house, four in the grounds. You make thirteen." Mrs. Bianchi's lips curled into a humorless smile. "Unlucky number."
A young woman with curly black hair entered the room. She stopped when she saw Isabella.
"This is Maria," Mrs. Bianchi said. "She'll show you the ropes. Maria, this is the new girl. Get her ready for tomorrow's dinner party." Mrs. Bianchi left without another word.
Maria smiled cautiously. "Hi."
"I'm Isabella," she said, offering her hand as Maria hesitated before shaking it. "You're here to work off a debt too?"
Isabella's eyes widened. "How did you know?"
"Most of us are." Maria sat on her bed across from Isabella's. "My brother owed them money. I'm working it off so they don't hurt him."
Isabella sank onto her bed. "How long have you been here?"
"Eight months." Maria's voice dropped to a whisper. "But I think they keep adding to the debt. Every time something breaks or goes wrong, they blame us and add more time."
Isabella's stomach clenched. "That's not fair."
"Nothing here is fair." Maria reached under her pillow and pulled out a small photo. "This is my brother. I keep it hidden so Mrs. Bianchi would take it if she found it."
Isabella looked at the smiling young man in the photo. "You must miss him."
"Every day." Maria said as she quickly tucked the photo away as footsteps approached. A teenage boy poked his head in. His left cheek was bruised, the skin around his eye swollen.
"Mario what happened?" Maria gasped.
"I dropped a tray in front of Mr. Vincenzo's son," he whispered. "Mrs. Bianchi, she" His eyes darted to Isabella. "Who's this?"
"She is the new girl," Maria said. "Isabella." Mario nodded nervously. "Watch out for the son. Luigi. He has a temper."
"And his father?" Isabella asked.
"Mr. Vincenzo is worse," Maria said. "But tomorrow night, it's not him you need to worry about."
Isabella frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The De Luca family is coming for dinner." Mario's voice trembled. "The old man died last year, but his son"
"Matteo De Luca," Maria whispered, making the sign of the cross. "He runs everything now."
The name sent an unexpected chill through Isabella. Something about it felt familiar, like a half-forgotten nightmare.
"Who are the De Lucas?" she asked as Mario and Maria exchanged looks.
"You really don't know?" Maria asked. "They run the biggest crime family in Italy. Everyone fears them. Even Mr. Vincenzo."
"Especially Mr. Vincenzo," Maria added. "That's why everyone's on edge. If anything goes wrong tomorrow night"
"It won't," Mario interrupted. "Because we'll be perfect. All of us." He looked pointedly at Isabella.
Isabella nodded, though panic was rising in her chest. "What will I have to do?"
"Serve drinks, clear plates, stay invisible," Maria said. "Mrs. Bianchi will train you tomorrow morning. Be ready at 5 a.m."
"5 a.m.?" Isabella repeated.
"That's late," Mario said with a bitter laugh. "Usually it's 4:30."
Footsteps echoed down the hallway again as Mario stiffened. "I should go," he whispered. "See you tomorrow. And remember to be invisible. Especially around Matteo De Luca."
After he left, Isabella turned to Maria. "Why is everyone so afraid of this Matteo person?"
Maria leaned closer. "They say he killed his own cousin for betraying the family. Didn't even blink, he has no emotion, no mercy. Just very... cold."
A memory flashed in Isabella's mind as a man's voice, urgent and frightened: "Stay away from the De Lucas, Principessa. They're dangerous."
The voice was so clear, so real, that Isabella gasped. "What's wrong?" Maria asked.
Isabella pressed her fingers to her temples. "Nothing. Just tired."
Later, lying in the unfamiliar bed, Isabella stared at the ceiling. The mansion creaked and groaned around her. Through the thin walls, she could hear someone crying softly.
She thought of her parents, wondering if they were safe. If she'd ever see them again.
As sleep finally began to claim her, that same voice echoed in her mind: "The De Lucas are dangerous."
But why would her father have warned her about a family she'd never met? Unless... she had met them before.