The door had barely slammed shut when the entire presidential suite fell into utter silence.
Dante remained exactly where he stood, his presence calm yet commanding, even as two hefty men emerged from the shadows behind him. Each carried a machine gun that was clearly not legally issued, their grips tight as though expecting violence.
"Sorry, Boss! If I had known it was just an ordinary woman, I would've stepped out and stopped her before she entered!" the first man blurted, his buzz cut stark under the dim light.
"Yeah. We assumed she was a female assassin sent by Don Lorenzo. That's usually how he works," the other bodyguard added, lowering his gun as the tension in his shoulders eased. The chaos of what they had just witnessed seemed to linger in his tone.
The woman had been standing—then kneeling—in the doorway, which was why she hadn't noticed their presence, no matter how hard she might have tried.
For a long, weighted moment, Dante said nothing. He slid both hands into his pockets and inclined his head, a simple nod to show he had heard them.
"It doesn't matter. We're leaving," he said at last, his voice low, decisive. Without waiting for a reply, he strode toward the door. He knew his men would follow after stashing the weapons.
"Yes, Boss!" they answered in unison, instantly moving to cover him as they fell into step behind.
******
It wasn't until she had scrambled past the security guards—and caught the knowing looks they sent her way—that Isadora frantically began buttoning her shirt the moment she stepped into the elevator.
Tears still streamed down her face. She swiped at them with the back of her sleeve, desperate to erase the evidence of her humiliation.
She could still smell the myriad of smells on the wet shirt she still wore, and the thought made her stomach churn. But right then, she couldn't bring herself to care. All she wanted was to escape the building, to disappear into a hole so deep that no one would ever find her again.
The more she tried not to think about it, the harder it became to push the memory away.
Gosh, I'm so stupid, she cursed herself, running out of the elevator and down the stairs to the lower level, her head bowed. The last thing she wanted was to be recognized by anyone else.
But as soon as she reached the main floor—where most of the non-VIP guests were drinking and chatting—she heard her name.
"Dora!"
She didn't need to lift her head to know the voice. Even without seeing her face, she recognized Llara—the white uniform, the tray balanced in her hand, and the urgency in her tone.
But Dora couldn't stop. She didn't wait for her friend to catch up. Instead, she fled again, racing through the doors and out into the night, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
Gosh, I'm so stupid, she whispered again, the words a cruel echo inside her mind. She felt the eyes of strangers on her as she hurried across the pavement toward the parking lot, aimless, her legs weak and trembling.
She was still walking, unsteady, when a firm hand grabbed her arm.
"I've been looking for you everywhere!" Llara snapped, pulling her to a stop.
Isadora refused to meet her friend's gaze. She couldn't bear to. Her shame was too heavy.
"I messed up, Llara," she whispered hoarsely. "I fucked up."
The confession tumbled out of her, raw and broken. She explained everything that had happened—down to the second man, the refusal, the hopelessness of it all.
"He—no matter what I said, he refused to listen! I couldn't convince him…"
Her voice cracked. Llara, shaking her head firmly, pulled her into a quick, protective embrace, her hand rubbing soothing circles on Isadora's shoulder.
"Why are you beating yourself up? It only proves he's a goddamn asshole," Llara said fiercely.
"Besides—I saw that bitch push you. None of this was your fault."
Slowly, Isadora's sobs softened. She sniffled and wiped at her red, swollen eyes. The sting in her chest dulled, just enough for her to find her voice again.
"You're right. He's the asshole," she said, her voice steadier now.
"Yes," she repeated, firmer this time. "…people like him are the worst."
Llara smiled faintly, but before either could say more, Isadora hurried to explain that she would return later. She needed to speak with Miguel before they left. Neither woman dared to voice the truth: how terribly their plan to ensnare a wealthy CEO had failed.
Llara gave a final squeeze to her arm, then left reluctantly.
Isadora drifted toward the darker edges of the parking lot, where the shadows felt kinder. She sank onto the pavement, her head in her hands.
"I messed up," she whispered again, not crying anymore, though her eyes still burned. Tomorrow evening, she would belong to a mafia don twice her age. A man who could do anything to her. And she would have no power to stop it.
The thought hollowed her chest.
And then—voices.
She looked up, startled.
Across the lot, she saw him. The man with platinum hair and sharp reading glasses, flanked by two bodyguards. And kneeling before him—a man who looked utterly broken, pleading on his knees.
"CEO Bellini! I messed up! I was sure they would show up at the club once I spread the news that you were—"
The man's words faltered when Bellini's cold, cutting voice silenced him.
"You messed up? Do you think you deserve to live?"
The words were heavy as stone. Instinctively, Isadora's hand flew to her bag. She scrambled for her phone and pressed record.
She didn't know why. She only knew she couldn't let the moment slip away. Some part of her whispered that this could matter.
Who knew he was this much of an asshole? she thought, her pulse quickening as she filmed.
Bellini's voice carried across the night air.
"Mess with me, Cole, and I'll make you pay with more than your sweat and blood."
The threat lingered long after he turned away. Bellini stepped into his car with the ease of a man who commanded fear. His bodyguards followed, and the engine roared to life.
The man named Cole crumpled further to the ground, paralyzed by terror, as the car rolled away into the darkness.
Isadora's phone was still recording, her heart pounding as though she had just stumbled into a secret she was sure the CEO wouldn't want the world to know.
'He was a BULLY!'