Chapter 1 - The dream

Prologue

The cold, damp walls of the basement made Isabella shiver as she struggled against the restraints digging into her wrists. Faint footsteps then a door creaked open, spilling dim light into the room. Isabella squinted against the harsh rays, as a shadowy figure stepped forward.

Rosa. Isabella’s breath caught in her throat. Wasn't she Nikolai’s late wife? She had once seen her picture frame in Nikolai's room.

"Y-you..." Isabella stammered, trying to form the words.

"You look surprised, huh? I guess you've heard of me," Rosa mused, a cruel smile stretching across her lips.

"You're dead?" Isabella asked and Rosa smirked.

"Not really sweetheart, I'm very much alive, and I'm here to get back my husband."

"He’s not your husband," Isabella snapped, glaring daggers at her.

"Not my husband? Huh? Is he yours?" Rosa whispered, her expression darkening. She took a step forward before striking Isabella across the face, sending her head snapping to the side. She slowly leaned closer and lifted Isabella's face with a fingertip. "I never loved Nikolai," she said dreamily. "I married him to gain his trust, so my husband could destroy him, but he killed my husband!" she said angrily, "so I'll kill you too!"

In a swift motion, she pulled a gun from her pocket and pointed it at Isabella. Isabella’s blood ran cold, she couldn't die, not when she carried his children in her belly.

"I won't let you have him, Isabella. If he can't be with me then no one can be with him," Rosa announced, then..

Bang!

~~~~~~~~

The Moretti estate.

Isabella sat by the edge of the pool, a soft smile at the corners of her mouth. She hummed a soft tune as she flipped through sketches of her fashion collection. In just a few weeks, she would finally launch her dream fashion brand, 'The Bella Versailles.'

"I’ve been working on this since college," she murmured to her best friend, Sofia, who lounged on the chaise beside her. "And now that it’s finally happening, I can't believe it."

"Spare me bitch. You mean since junior school?" Sofia teased, sipping her iced tea. "You were always designing dresses and handbags during math class."

Isabella laughed, twirling her pen between her fingers. "Well, well, math was boring, and I wouldn't understand a thing even if I paid attention."

"Won't you come up with something else? I'm tired of this excuse already," Sofia said, chuckling. That was always Isabella's excuse to skip mathematics classes. "But I'm proud of you girl!"

Isabella leaned back, closing her eyes as the breeze swept through her long, red-brown hair. Life was perfect, just as it had always been, for her.

"Miss Moretti, your father has requested your presence in his study. He says it’s urgent." An elderly servant announced, her head bowed.

Isabella frowned, exchanging a glance with Sofia. That was new. Her father, Alessandro Moretti, rarely interrupted her unless it was necessary.

"Urgent?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes, miss. He insisted."

With a sigh, Isabella grabbed her silk cover-up and slipped it over her bikini and walked through the grand stairs.

When she reached the study, she knocked lightly before pushing the door open, closing it behind her with a soft click. Her father stood by the window, his back to her, his hands clasped tightly behind him. Her mother, Vivienne Brown sat on the edge of the leather sofa, her posture unusually stiff and her eyes red as if she had been crying. Something felt off.

"Dad, Mom?" Isabella called out softly.

Mr Alessandro turned, his face lined with worry. "Isabella, my dear, you're here! Have a seat."

Isabella squinted her eyes as she obeyed, sinking into the leather armchair opposite his desk. "You requested me? What’s up?"

"I'm sorry for interrupting you princess, but I... I."

"Come on papa, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

My princess, I don't think there's an easy way to say this," he began, his voice clipped. "Our family is in danger," he said turning away, his back to her.

Isabella blinked in confusion, "Danger? What do you mean?"

"There’s someone who has been targeting us for years. I’ve tried to shield you from this, but it’s no longer safe for you to stay here. They’ve made threats against your life. I don't think I should hide this from you anymore."

Isabella's stomach dropped. "Threats? Who? And why is he targeting us?"

"That’s not important right now, dear," he said, facing her, brushing off her questions. "What matters is your safety. I’ve arranged for you to leave immediately. You’ll be taken to a private location where you’ll be protected."

"No." The word slipped out of Isabella's mouth before she could stop it. She shot to her feet, her voice rising. "I’m not leaving, papa… I'll be launching my brand in a few weeks. It has always been my dream."

"Your career won’t matter if you’re dead!" he snapped, slamming his hand on the desk, his eyes red with anger. " You think I haven't thought it through. I don’t want to lose you, princess. Not to those cruel monsters."

She flinched at his outburst, he had never spoken to her that way, but her anger burned hotter. "You can’t just order me to leave here without an explanation! I deserve to know who is after my life! Mom, why don't you say something?" Isabella turned to her mother, hoping that at least she would say something.

But when her mother remained silent, it hurt her more.

Alessandro’s expression softened slightly, but his voice remained firm. "I can’t give you the details now but trust me it’s for your good. You’ll be safe there, and I won't have to worry about your safety then."

Isabella clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. Her parents had always supported her dream, yet they were the ones killing it!

Alessandro moved around the desk, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Isabella. Do this for me. For your mother. I promise this won’t last for long, I will take care of it in no time."

She wanted to argue, to scream at him that she wouldn't go, but the pleading look in her mother's eyes silenced her. Despite her anger, she knew they wouldn’t make such a decision for nothing, they loved her.

"When do I leave?" she asked finally when she couldn't argue anymore, her voice broken, barely above a whisper.

"Tomorrow morning."

Tomorrow. It felt like a death sentence. Without another word, Isabella ran out of the study, tears streaming down her cheeks, her blood boiling with rage.

As she stepped back into the pool area, she sat at the edge of the pool, tears falling down her face and dangled her feet in the water. Sofia sat beside her and pulled her closer, gently patting her back. Suddenly the corners of Isabella's mouth lifted as her gaze raised towards her father's study and a plan formed in her mind...