"Pack your things," Matteo ordered, his dark eyes never leaving Isabella's face. "We leave in ten minutes."
Isabella stood frozen, her mind racing. "Sir, I"
"Nine minutes now," he said, checking his watch.
Mr. Vincenzo shifted uncomfortably. "Matteo, if I may... this girl still owes a considerable debt. Perhaps we could discuss compensation"
Matteo reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope. He tossed it onto the desk without looking as Bills spilled out more money than Isabella had ever seen.
"Consider her debt paid," Matteo said coldly. "And yours is reduced." Mr. Vincenzo's eyes widened. He grabbed the envelope, thumbing through the cash. "Of course. Very generous."
Isabella found her voice. "Don't I have any say in this?" Both men turned to look at her as if surprised she could speak.
"No," Matteo said simply. "You don't."
Mr. Vincenzo laughed nervously. "The girl should be grateful. Working for the De Lucas is... an honor." Isabella clenched her fists. "And my parents? I need to contact them."
Matteo raised an eyebrow. "Your parents?" "My adoptive parents," she clarified. "They need to know I'm safe."
Something flashed in Matteo's eyes. "Adoptive?" Before she could respond, the door opened. Luca De Luca leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on his handsome face.
"There you are, brother," he said. "I was beginning to think you'd left without me." His eyes landed on Isabella. "What's this? Found yourself a new pet?"
"Business," Matteo said sharply. "Nothing more." Luca's smirk widened. "Of course." He winked at Isabella. "Don't worry, sweetheart. My brother's bark is worse than his bite. Usually."
"That's enough, Luca." Matteo's tone could have frozen fire. "Wait in the car." Luca shrugged and left, whistling.
Matteo turned to Isabella. "Go. Pack. Now."
She had no choice but to obey. As she hurried down the hallway to the servants' quarters, her thoughts spun wildly. Why did Matteo want her? What had he seen in her face that sparked his interest?
Maria looked up in surprise when Isabella burst into their shared room. "What's wrong?" Maria asked, jumping to her feet. "Did Mr. Vincenzo"
"Matteo De Luca is taking me with him," Isabella said, grabbing her small bag from under the bed.
Maria's face went white. "What? Why?"
"I don't know." Isabella stuffed her few belongings into the bag with shaking hands. "He recognized me somehow."
"That's impossible," Maria whispered. "Nobody gets recognized by the De Lucas unless they want you dead."
Isabella's hands stilled. "You think he wants to kill me?"
"No, no," Maria said quickly. "If he wanted that, he wouldn't bother taking you anywhere. He'd just..." She drew a finger across her throat. Isabella shuddered. "That's not comforting."
"Listen to me." Maria grabbed Isabella's shoulders. "The De Luca mansion is dangerous. People go in, they don't come out. Be careful. Trust no one."
"I need to contact my parents," Isabella said. "Let them know where I am."
Maria bit her lip, then reached into her pocket. She pressed a small, battered cell phone into Isabella's hand.
"Hide this. Call them when you can, but make it quick. If Matteo finds it..." Isabella hugged Maria tightly. "Thank you."
A heavy knock on the door made them both jump apart.
"Time's up," a deep voice called.
Isabella opened the door to find one of Matteo's men, a tall, muscular man with a scar running down his cheek.
"Mr. De Luca is waiting," he said gruffly. Isabella turned to Maria one last time. "Goodbye."
"Good luck," Maria whispered.
The man escorted Isabella through the servants' hallways and out a side door. A sleek black car with tinted windows idled in the driveway. Matteo stood beside it, talking on his phone. His brother leaned against another car nearby, smoking a cigarette.
When Matteo saw her, he ended his call and opened the car door.
"Get in," he ordered. Isabella hesitated. "Where are we going?"
"My home." His expression remained unreadable. "You'll work there instead of here."
"Doing what?" A flash of irritation crossed his face. "You ask too many questions."
"You're kidnapping me. I think I deserve answers." Luca laughed from where he stood. "She's got spirit, brother."
Matteo ignored him. "I'm not kidnapping you. I bought your debt. You'll work it off under my roof instead of Vincenzo's."
"Why?" For a moment, Matteo looked almost uncertain. Then his expression hardened again.
"Get in the car, Isabella. Now."
The way he said her name with a hint of an accent she couldn't place triggered another memory flash. A birthday party, children laughing, a cake with nine candles. "Make a wish, Izzy!"
Isabella gasped, pressing her palm against her temple as pain shot through her head.
"What's wrong with you?" Matteo demanded, but his voice sounded far away.
Isabella swayed on her feet. The man with the scar caught her arm, steadying her. "She does this sometimes," a new voice said.
Isabella blinked, trying to clear her vision. Mrs. Bianchi stood a few feet away, arms crossed.
"What?" Matteo asked sharply. "Get these... episodes," Mrs. Bianchi replied. "Fainting spells. More like memory problems."
Isabella straightened, embarrassed. "I'm fine." Matteo studied her face, his expression unreadable. "Get in the car."
This time, Isabella obeyed. The leather seat was soft and smelled expensive as Matteo slid in beside her, keeping a careful distance.
The driver started the engine. Through the window, Isabella watched Luca climb into another car with two more men. Mrs. Bianchi stood watching, her thin lips curved in a satisfied smile.
As they drove away from Vincenzo's estate, Isabella clutched her small bag tightly. "You had an accident," Matteo said suddenly, breaking the silence. "A head injury. That's why you have these episodes."
It wasn't a question. Isabella turned to him, surprised.
"How did you know?"
"You have a scar." He gestured to her hairline. "Small, but visible if someone's looking for it."
Isabella's fingers automatically touched the thin white line hidden near her temple. "It happened when I was eleven. At least, that's what my parents told me."
"And you don't remember?"
"No." Isabella hesitated. "I lost most of my childhood memories in the accident. Doctors said they might never come back."
Matteo's jaw tightened. "Convenient."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing." He turned to look out the window.
They drove in silence for several minutes. Isabella gathered her courage.
"Mr. De Luca"
"Matteo," he interrupted. "Call me Matteo."
"Matteo," she repeated softly. "Why did you bring me with you? Really?" He didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was low.
"You remind me of someone I used to know."
"Who?" His dark eyes met hers. "Someone who died a long time ago."
A chill ran down Isabella's spine. Before she could ask another question, the car slowed, turning onto a private road flanked by tall iron gates. Armed guards nodded respectfully as they passed.
The De Luca mansion came into view as: a modern fortress of glass and stone, illuminated against the night sky. It was at least three times the size of Vincenzo's estate.
"Welcome to your new home," Matteo said, watching her reaction closely.
The car stopped at the entrance. A line of staff stood waiting, their expressions carefully neutral.
As Isabella stepped out, the scarred man from earlier approaches Matteo, whispering something in his ear. Matteo's face darkened.
"Take her inside," he ordered an older woman in a housekeeper's uniform. "Show her to the east wing upgraded quarters room."
"The upgraded room?" the woman repeated, surprised. "Not the staff quarters?"
"Did I stutter?" Matteo snapped. The woman bowed her head. "No, sir. Right away."
Matteo turned to Isabella. "I have business to attend to. We'll continue our conversation tomorrow."
As he walked away, Isabella heard him mutter into his phone: "Find everything you can on Isabella Moretti. Birth records, adoption papers, medical history. Everything."
Her heart skipped a beat. Who was he investigating ? The housekeeper touched her arm. "This way, miss."
As Isabella followed her into the mansion, one thought burned in her mind: She needed to call her parents and warn them before Matteo De Luca discovered whatever it was he was looking for.