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6 - Inside the divide
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2025-08-11 01:22:10Isabella lay awake long after the house had fallen silent. The only sound was the soft rhythm of rain tapping against the window, a steady beat that matched the relentless pulse in her chest. Darkness wrapped around her like a suffocating cloak, heavier than any noise she could hear.
Her mind refused to rest. Every thought seemed to collide with another — a storm of fear, doubt, and something stubbornly fierce that refused to be silenced. She was trapped. Trapped between worlds she didn’t belong to — the cold, dangerous realm of the Moretti family, and the fading shadows of the life she once knew. Neither felt like home anymore. She reached for the locket Matteo had pressed into her hand that first night, its weight oddly comforting. Inside, a faded photograph of someone she barely remembered — her mother, maybe, or a sister. The edges of the picture were worn, but the face was a beacon in the darkness. A fragile promise, or a chain? She wasn’t sure. Matteo’s words echoed in her mind, as clear as if he were standing in the room beside her. “They’re wrong about you.” Was it faith? Or desperation? Could she believe in a man whose family had just decided she was a liability? Someone to be erased? The questions gnawed at her, breaking her down piece by piece. Yet beneath the fear was something deeper — a flame of defiance that refused to be snuffed out. Her thoughts drifted back to the study, to the voices she had overheard the night before. Vittorio’s cold command, Enzo’s ruthless certainty. The way they talked about her — as if she were nothing but a problem to be solved. The chill of betrayal had settled in her bones. And then there was Matteo — caught in the middle, torn between loyalty to his family and something unspoken between them. His presence was both a shield and a mystery, and she wasn’t sure which was more dangerous. Could she trust him? Could she trust anyone? Trust had become a currency she couldn’t afford, yet somehow she had to gamble with it. Because running wasn’t an option. The city outside was a maze filled with enemies lurking in every shadow, every alleyway. She was running from them — yes — but also from the part of herself that still yearned for safety, for normalcy, for love. The contrast was brutal. The girl who had once dreamed of freedom was now shackled by secrets and lies. Anger burned beneath her skin — anger at being used, at being silenced, at being nothing more than a pawn in a deadly game she never chose to play. Yet, underneath it all, a stubborn spark of determination blazed. She wouldn’t be broken. Not completely. Slowly, she sat up and crossed the room to the small mirror hanging near the door. Her reflection stared back — eyes wide, haunted, but resolute. The face of someone who had lost much but still had fight left in her. This was no longer just about survival. It was about choosing who she wanted to be. Because in this world, where the lines between friend and foe blurred like smoke, the only person she could truly rely on was herself. And if she was going to make it out alive, she had to decide which battles were worth fighting — and which ones might cost her everything.
Latest chapter
Beneath The Blood Moon 1 - The Debt
The night smelled of gasoline, rain, and danger. Isabella Russo sat in the farthest corner of the Velvet Rose, a half-filled glass of wine untouched before her. The stem of the glass was cool against her fingertips, but she wasn’t drinking — she needed her head clear. A single flickering light above her threw her into alternating shadow and glow, as if even the electricity couldn’t decide what to make of her being here. Her father had called this a “meeting.” In their part of the city, that word was just a softer name for trouble. When the Moretti family summoned you, you didn’t get to say no — you just hoped you’d be allowed to leave afterward. The front door creaked open, letting in a gust of cold air and the faintest trace of smoke. Conversations slowed, and the clink of glasses seemed to vanish altogether. The man who stepped inside didn’t need an introduction. Matteo Moretti. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his black suit perfectly tailored, the absence of a tie making him
Beneath The Blood Moon 2-The Arrangement
The ride to Matteo Moretti’s penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of the car’s engine. Isabella sat rigid, her hands folded tightly in her lap, eyes fixed on the shifting reflections of the city lights in the rain-speckled window. Matteo sat beside her, a shadow of stillness, one hand resting lightly on his knee, the other tapping an unhurried rhythm against the door. It was as if he had all the time in the world — as if her life wasn’t being uprooted with every passing streetlight. They crossed the bridge into the upper district, where the buildings gleamed like polished steel. Finally, the car slowed in front of a high-rise tower of glass and stone, guarded by two men in dark coats. Neither looked directly into the car, but Isabella felt their eyes track her every move. The elevator opened directly into his penthouse — no hallway, no reception, just a seamless step from a metal box into another world. The place was sleek and open, all clean lines and expensive minimalism
Beneath The Blood Moon 3 - Smoke and knives
Days bled into weeks. Isabella learned Matteo’s world through observation. The phone calls spoken in quick, sharp Italian. The visitors in tailored suits who left envelopes behind. The way his mood changed depending on whether the night’s business involved money, favors, or threats. He didn’t keep her locked away, but she wasn’t free either. The building’s guards knew her face now. She could walk the penthouse halls, stand on the balcony, and move through the main floors under a watchful escort. But stepping outside into the city without Matteo? That was impossible. One Thursday night, he told her to get ready. “We’re going out,” was all he said. An hour later, they stepped into a low-lit backroom thick with cigar smoke. The air smelled of leather, liquor, and unspoken deals. A poker table sat in the center, men in pressed shirts and expensive watches leaning forward over their cards. Matteo’s presence shifted the room’s atmosphere. Some nodded, others went still, and all of them
Beneath The Blood Moon 4 - Cracks in the ice
The rain hadn’t stopped all day.It drummed steadily against the penthouse windows, turning the skyline into a hazy watercolor of lights and shadows. Isabella sat at the kitchen counter with a book open in front of her, though she hadn’t read a single word in ten minutes.The smell of something cooking pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned toward the kitchen island and blinked. Matteo Moretti — mafia heir, ruthless negotiator, man of calculated danger — was standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot of sauce.“Didn’t think you knew how to cook,” she said.He didn’t look up. “And I didn’t think you’d still be here.”She tried to read his tone but found no obvious hint of jest or resentment. He simply reached for a small dish of chopped herbs and tossed them in, the scent of basil and garlic filling the air.“I could help,” she offered.He glanced over his shoulder. “You don’t strike me as the apron type.”“Meaning?”“Meaning,” he said, tasting the sauce with a wooden spoon, “y
Beneath The Blood Moon 5 - The Fractures
The morning light seeped weakly through the heavy curtains, casting muted shadows across the penthouse. Isabella sat by the window, hands wrapped around a mug of lukewarm coffee. The conversation from last night still clung to her thoughts, a weight that made her chest tight. Footsteps echoed softly behind her. Matteo approached, carrying a folder thick with papers. His expression was unreadable, a mask perfected over years of negotiation and deception. “We have to move,” he said without preamble, setting the folder down on the table. “I found something.” Isabella met his eyes, searching for any hint of reassurance. He opened the folder, revealing photographs, documents, and notes meticulously organized. “This,” he said, pointing to a grainy surveillance photo, “is the man we believe is behind the leak. Someone inside the organization, feeding information to the authorities.” Isabella leaned in, studying the figure. A sharp pang of recognition hit her — the man had been one of
Beneath The Blood Moon 6 - Inside the divide
Isabella lay awake long after the house had fallen silent. The only sound was the soft rhythm of rain tapping against the window, a steady beat that matched the relentless pulse in her chest. Darkness wrapped around her like a suffocating cloak, heavier than any noise she could hear.Her mind refused to rest. Every thought seemed to collide with another — a storm of fear, doubt, and something stubbornly fierce that refused to be silenced.She was trapped. Trapped between worlds she didn’t belong to — the cold, dangerous realm of the Moretti family, and the fading shadows of the life she once knew. Neither felt like home anymore.She reached for the locket Matteo had pressed into her hand that first night, its weight oddly comforting. Inside, a faded photograph of someone she barely remembered — her mother, maybe, or a sister. The edges of the picture were worn, but the face was a beacon in the darkness. A fragile promise, or a chain? She wasn’t sure.Matteo’s words echoed in her mind,
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