Chapter 4

Isabella's POV]

The phone wouldn't stop shaking in my hands, I mean what I saw was so terrifying.

"The package is ready. Deliver to Russo by Friday." The message blur my vision.

What scared me more was that Friday was tomorrow.

Enzo had disappeared after dropping this bomb in my lap, slipping back into the shadows like a ghost. He had left me with more questions than answers, more fear than courage. Was this message meant for my father? Was Elena the package? Or was there something else—something I still didn't understand?

A knock on the door made me jump.

"Isabella." Dante's voice cut through the wood like a blade. "Open the door."

I shoved the phone under my pillow and crossed the room, my heart hammering. When I opened the door, Dante stood in the hallway. Behind him, Luca leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes burning with barely restrained anger. Matteo was nowhere to be seen.

"We need to talk," Dante said.

"About what?" I asked immediately.

"About your father." He responded.

He pushed past me into the room without waiting for an invitation. Luca followed, his presence suffocating in the small space. I backed against the wall, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I was to be alone with two of the most dangerous men in the city.

Dante turned to face me, his cold gray eyes searching mine. "Matteo found something. A bank account in your father's name. Offshore. Untraceable."

My stomach dropped. "What does that mean?"

"It means your father wasn't just gambling," Luca said, his voice rough. "He was hiding something. Something big."

Dante pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to me. I unfolded it with trembling fingers. It was a bank statement, dated three years ago. Fifty thousand dollars deposited into my father's account. The same amount he had received for betraying Victor Valenti.

But the date didn't match. This deposit was made after Victor was murdered.

"What is this?" I whispered.

"That," Dante said, "is your father's payment for something else. Something we don't know about yet."

I stared at the numbers, my mind racing. My father had been paid twice and I just discovered one was for Victor's location, and again for something else. Something that happened after the murder. Something connected to Elena.

"I don't understand," I said. "Why would the Russos pay him again?"

Dante's jaw tightened. "That's what we need to find out."

Luca stepped closer, his body radiating heat. "Where is he, Isabella? Where's your father hiding?"

"I don't know!" I snapped. "I've been locked in this house for days. I don't know where he is or what he's doing. I don't even know who he is anymore."

Luca's eyes darkened. He took another step toward me, and I pressed harder against the wall. "You're lying."

"I'm not…" I responded.

"Luca." Dante's voice was sharp. "Back off."

Luca froze. For a moment, I thought he would disobey. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw grinding. But then he stepped back, his expression twisting with frustration.

Dante turned back to me, his cold eyes softening. "Your father is the only link we have to Elena. If we find him, we find her. And if we find her, we destroy the Russos. Do you understand?"

I nodded in approval.

"Good." Dante reached out and tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His touch was cold but not cruel. "You're going to help us find him. Not because I'm forcing you. Because it's the only way to protect your mother and sister."

"I know," I whispered.

The door burst open.

Matteo stumbled inside, his face pale, his hands shaking. He was holding his phone, the screen lit with a live security feed. "Dante," he gasped. "We have a problem."

Dante released me and crossed the room in two strides. "What is it?"

Matteo turned the phone toward us. The screen showed the mansion's front gate and a black car pulling up to the curb. A man stepped out, tall and broad, his face obscured by a fedora. But I recognized the way he walked. The way he carried himself.

"No," I breathed.

It was my father.

He walked up to the gate, his hands raised, his face gaunt and desperate. The security camera captured every angle, the trembling hands, the bloodshot eyes, the bruises on his face.

"He's alone," Matteo said. "No backup. No weapons visible."

Dante's eyes narrowed. "What is he doing here?"

My father pressed a button on the intercom. His voice crackled through the speakers, broken and pleading.

"I know you can hear me," he said. "I know you're watching. I'm here for my daughter. I'm here to make a deal."

Luca cursed under his breath. "He's got a death wish."

Dante didn't respond. He was staring at the screen.

"I have information," my father continued, his voice shaking. "Information about Elena and about the Russos. About what really happened to Victor Valenti." He paused, swallowing hard. "Let me see my daughter, and I'll tell you everything."

My heart stopped.

Dante turned to me, his eyes cold and calculating. "Well, Isabella. It seems your father has come to save you after all."

I didn't know what to say. My father was here, the same man who had sold me to two mafia families, who had lied and manipulated and betrayed everyone who ever loved him. He was here, and he wanted to make a deal.

"Don't trust him," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's a liar. He'll say anything to save himself."

Dante studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"I know," he said. "But he's also the only person who knows where Elena is and we need her."

He turned to Luca. "Bring him in."

Luca gave a dark, dangerous smile. "With pleasure."

He disappeared through the door, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding, my mind screaming. My father was walking into the lion's den, and I had no idea what he would say. What he would reveal. What lies he would tell.

Matteo stepped closer to me, his warm hand resting on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I shook my head. "No."

He squeezed gently. "Whatever he says, whatever he does, we'll protect you. All of us."

I looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his eyes. "Why? I'm nothing to you."

Matteo's smile was sad. "You're not nothing, Isabella. You're the key." He paused, his eyes flickering to the door. "And you're ours."

The front door opened below, and I heard Luca's heavy footsteps. My father's voice, pleading and weak. Dante moved toward the stairs, and I followed, my legs trembling.

I stopped at the top of the staircase and looked down.

My father stood in the foyer, surrounded by the Valenti brothers. He was a shell of the man I remembered. His eyes found mine, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Isabella," he whispered. "Thank God."

Dante stepped between us, his arms crossed, his expression cold. "Start talking."

My father swallowed hard. "Elena isn't just hiding. She's been waiting. Waiting for someone brave enough to take what she has."

"And what does she have?" Dante asked.

My father looked at me, his eyes filled with something I hadn't seen in years—hope.

"A confession," he said. "A recorded confession from Marco Russo. It's the only thing that can destroy him. But there's a problem."

Dante's jaw tightened. "What problem?"

My father's voice dropped to a whisper.

"The only person who can access it is you, Isabella. He keyed the encryption to your mother's maiden name. You're the only one who can unlock it."

The room went silent. All four brothers turned to me. I stared at my father, my breath caught in my throat.

"Why me?" I whispered.

My father's face crumbled. "Because he knew. He always knew."

"Knew

what?" Dante demanded.

My father met my eyes, and his voice cracked with the weight of his confession. "Marco Russo is Isabella's biological father."