LOGINISABELLA
Darkness. Thick. Suffocating. Alive. It clung to my skin like oil, slithered into my lungs with every breath. I shot upright. Cold slapped my spine concrete, damp and unwelcoming. My fingers scrambled over the ground, searching for anything, anyone. Nothing. No sound. No movement. Just a hairline crack of light leaking through a wall. Not enough to see. Only enough to remind me I was trapped. Buried. Alive. My chest tightened. Breath snagged in my throat. The old fear twisted inside me like a blade. Not the dark. Not again. I folded into myself, arms shielding my head, rocking like a child as the panic bloomed. Damian knew. He knew. I told him once stupid, innocent me how darkness made me drown in my own mind. How, after the accident when I was six, I couldn’t sleep without the hallway light. He remembered. And he left me here. This wasn’t punishment. This was precision. Tears burned hot down my cheeks. My jaw clenched until it ached. He was using my worst fear to remind me who held the leash now. And he was doing it calmly. Casually. Like breaking me was just another part of his routine. I rocked harder. I wanted to scream. To claw at the walls. To wake up. But this wasn’t a nightmare. It was reality. And he had made it so. --- I lost track of time. My lips cracked. My body ached. Then Click. Light sliced through the room. Boots echoed across the floor. I blinked up through the haze. Richard. I jolted. “Richard?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Oh my God it’s you.” Hope surged. He didn’t react. Just walked in, placed a tray on the floor fruit, bread, water and stood like a soldier waiting for orders. No smile. No warmth. No recognition. “Eat,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.” Then turned to leave. “No wait!” I croaked, crawling forward. “Richard, it’s me. You used to protect me. You cared. Please please tell me what’s going on.” He paused. But he didn’t turn. And he didn’t speak. Just walked out and shut the door behind him. Gone. Like the rest. The sob that tore from me felt animal. I pressed my forehead to the floor and screamed. If even he was gone… Who was left? But my body didn’t care. It lunged for the food. I devoured it like I’d never eaten. Juice ran down my chin. Crumbs scattered in my lap. The water barely touched the sides of my throat before it was gone. I didn’t stop until the tray was empty. And even then I was still hungry. But not for food. For answers. For blood. For freedom. --- Then I felt him. Even before I heard the footsteps. Even before the scent hit me cool, expensive, unmistakably him I felt the pressure shift. Like the room was bending to his presence. Damian. He stepped inside without a word. Calm. Composed. Controlled. He crouched beside me, gaze unreadable, eyes the color of cold steel. His hand reached out brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. A gentle touch, made cruel by context. “Look at me, Isa.” I didn’t want to. But I did. Because part of me still hoped. Still wanted to see the boy I once trusted. But he wasn’t there. Just the monster wearing his face. “You look tired,” he said, voice smooth, almost amused. “Doesn’t suit a princess.” Tears pooled again. “Why?” I whispered. “Why did you kill them?” His face didn’t flinch. No guilt. No regret. Just emptiness. “You said you cared,” I choked out. His hand snapped out, gripping my jaw with punishing force. “I’m not your brother,” he growled. “I never was.” He leaned in, breath brushing my cheek. “From now on… you’ll address me properly.” I blinked. “What?” His voice dropped. “You call me Master.” The word sliced through me. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I won’t.” He stood, slow and towering, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. “Well,” he said, voice like a blade, “looks like our little princess forgot this isn’t her kingdom anymore.” He turned to leave then paused. Glanced over his shoulder. His eyes gleamed. “You tried to run.” My blood froze. “And I will find you. Every time. I will break you until even you forget who you are.” He smiled. Not with kindness. With intent. “And when I’m done, Isa…” He stepped backward, vanishing into shadow. “I’ll make you beg to be my perfect pet.” I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. But then his voice again. Colder. Deadlier. “And remember…” He lingered at the threshold. “I know everything about Liliana. One word just one and I’ll make sure you watch her die.” The door slammed. And the dark didn’t wait. It swallowed me whole. But this time, it wasn’t outside me. It lived inside me. And it was growing. AUTHOR’S NOTE Hey lovely readers! 💖 If you're enjoying the story, don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe. Your support means the world and keeps me writing more twists, drama, and heart-racing moments! 💌🔥The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting golden lines across my desk. Papers were stacked neatly beside a steaming cup of coffee. I had promised myself this week belonged to Isabella and our daughter no meetings, no calls, no business. Just family.I was signing off the last few files when the office door creaked open.“Boss.”I looked up. Richard stood at the doorway, his usual composure replaced with something heavier. His eyes were red-rimmed, his shoulders tense. Then, before I could say a word, he dropped to his knees.“Boss, please,” he said, his voice trembling. “I know you’re kind and fair. Please… let me take the punishment meant for my brother. Let Diego live.”I set my pen down slowly, studying him. “And why would I do that, Richard?”He swallowed hard. “He was deceived, sir. Matteo told him lies made him believe our parents were still alive. He lost his way. But now, he’s seen the truth. Please… forgive him.”For a moment, silence filled the room, broken on
VINCENTThe night pressed down heavy and silent as I pulled up outside the old Greco hideout. The air reeked of rust and gasoline. A few cars were parked outside strange ones. My gut twisted, but I didn’t have time to care who they belonged to.My mind was on one thing Isabella and her daughter. Nothing else mattered.“Move in,” I ordered, pushing the door open. My men fanned out behind me, boots crunching on gravel. Inside, darkness swallowed everything. The place smelled of mold and old secrets.And then I froze.Standing in the middle of the room, calm as ever, was the one man I never thought I’d see again.Damian.My chest tightened, rage burning through my veins. Four years. Four damn years, and he was still breathing.He turned, his lips curling in a cold smirk. “Didn’t expect to see me, Vincent?”Before I could answer, a woman’s voice sliced through the tension. “Ooh, how touching,” Valentina said, stepping out of the shadows in her black dress, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I
VINCENTThe phone left a white-hot print in my palm. I didn’t shout so much as the words ripped out of me.“What do you mean?” I could feel the plane tilting under me, the cabin’s hum swallowed by the call. For a breath I listened to the other end ragged, frantic voices then the single line that made the world drop: Isabella. Kidnapped. By Valentina.The meeting in Toronto dissolved into a smear of faces and the clack of keyboards words that meant nothing now. I ended it with a single, clean cut: a sentence, the quiet click of a laptop closing. “Tell the men to prepare themselves,” I told the assistant riding in the cabin, but my voice felt like it belonged to someone else; the paper cup on the tray trembled as if it knew the truth my words refused to hold.I called the man on the other end again. The line crackled, and then his voice came through, small and hurried. “Where is she?” The question left my mouth before the air could steady.“Boss… we couldn’t find her. We found the bodi
ISABELLAThe park smelled like cut grass and fear. Julian’s small body trembled against my ribs; each breath she took hit my sternum like a tiny, urgent drum. I hugged her tighter until her cheek left a warm print on my shoulder. My hands went numb and I liked it numbness kept panic from spreading.Valentina stepped forward as if she owned the light around her. The smile on her face was slow and precise, the kind that counts the seconds before a blade drops. She looked at Julian and then at me, and the expression on her face scrubbed my insides raw.“Get away from her,” I said, but the words came like a cracked radio: static, then sound.Valentina’s laugh cut through the afternoon. The sound was small and sharp, like a glass being tapped. “You know why I’m here,” she said, eyes taking the child in slowly, clinically. She liked the way she watched things like specimens on a slab.My spine went rigid. I could feel every heartbeat as if it were someone else’s. Around us, my guards forme
DAMIAN The phone hissed like a distant storm. “Boss, Valentina’s plan is in motion.” Traffic sighed outside the office windows horns, a bus, the city breathing but the man’s voice was a low wire of static and certainty. “We spotted her this morning. A few blocks from the Russo estate. If I’m right, he moves today. Your wife and the girl they’re the targets.” I let the words hang, tasted them like metal. My hand found the edge of the desk and I pressed until the wood bit into my knuckles, keeping the impulse from showing. “Vincent?” I asked, each syllable a small, deliberate steel cut. I didn’t need to ask why; Valentina never acted without a shadow covering her back. “He left New York this morning,” the man said. “Ma’am Isabella and the little one are alone. Only the guards with them.” A smirk came without permission, slow and automatic, like a predator finally smelling blood. I could see my reflection in the glass now an outline against the city, shoulders steady, eyes cold.
RICHARDSmoke still tastes like iron in my mouth when I look at Diego. He lies on the cold basement floor, chest rising shallow, eyes clouded with a memory that isn’t there. The fluorescent bulb above hums like a warning.He thinks I never tried to save him. He thinks I left him to burn.The smell of smoke never really leaves you. Years pass, and it still clings to the back of your throat like the night’s ghost won’t let you forget what it took.Diego lies in front of me now, his breath ragged, his skin ghost-pale under the flickering basement light. Every sound feels too loud the hum of the bulb, the slow drip of water from a pipe, the uneven rhythm of his breathing. His eyes flutter open, unfocused, searching for something he can’t find.I kneel beside him, but I don’t touch him yet. My hands hover, unsure. The air between us feels like glass thin, ready to shatter.The night repeats behind my eyelids. A single stove flame, a pan overturned. His laugh, boyish and careless. Then the







