Six

Isabella stood in front of her closet for what felt like the hundredth time, her fingers gliding over fabrics she barely recognized as hers.

Silk. Satin. Velvet.

Dresses that whispered confidence… boldness… attention.

None of them felt like her.

She pulled one out, a red bodycon dress, and held it against herself, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

It was beautiful.

Too beautiful.

But also too… revealing.

Isabella swallowed and quickly placed it back.

Ever since that shopping trip with Valeria, her wardrobe had changed overnight. Gone were her simple, modest outfits. In their place were pieces that demanded attention.

Clothes meant to tempt.

Valeria had insisted.

“You’re dating Alessandro Valenti now. You need to look the part.”

Isabella sighed softly.

Her gaze dropped.

Was that really what this was about?

Looking the part?

Keeping him interested?

Her chest tightened slightly as flashes of the previous night crossed her mind.

The man.

His voice.

The way her body had betrayed her.

She shook her head quickly, trying to push the thoughts away.

“No…” she whispered. “Not tonight.”

Tonight was supposed to be normal.

Just a party.

Just Alessandro.

Nothing else.

Still… the uneasiness lingered.

She glanced back at her closet.

Her older clothes suddenly felt too plain.

Too small for the world she had stepped into.

And the new ones?

They didn’t feel like they belonged to her either.

Frustration built inside her.

“I don’t have anything to wear…” she muttered.

After a moment of hesitation, she picked up her phone and typed quickly.

Isabella: Valeria… I need help choosing an outfit for the party.

The reply came almost instantly.

Valeria: Send me options.

Isabella snapped a few pictures and sent them over.

Seconds later...

Valeria: No. Absolutely not.

Isabella frowned.

Isabella: What’s wrong with them?

Three dots appeared.

Then...

Valeria: You’re not dressing like a schoolgirl to your own birthday party.

Isabella exhaled slowly.

Isabella: Then what do I wear?

There was a pause.

Then Valeria's message came through.

Valeria: Check the black dress. The one with the deep neckline.

Isabella hesitated.

Slowly, she reached for it.

The dress was… daring.

Short. Very short.

And the cut at the chest was deep enough to make her cheeks burn just looking at it.

“I can’t wear this…” she whispered to herself.

Her phone buzzed again.

Valeria: Wear it.

Isabella bit her lower lip.

Isabella: It’s too much…

Valeria: No, it’s perfect. Trust me.

Another message followed.

Valeria: Alessandro will LOVE you in that dress.

That made her pause.

Alessandro.

Her boyfriend.

Tonight was for him too.

To make up for last night.

To fix things.

Maybe Valeria was right.

Isabella stared at her reflection again, holding the dress against her body.

Her heart pounded.

This wasn’t her.

But maybe it needed to be.

Just for tonight.

Slowly… she nodded.

---

The Valenti mansion was already alive when Isabella arrived.

Music pulsed through the air.

Lights glowed warmly against the luxurious walls.

Voices, laughter, movement.

Everything blended into a vibrant, overwhelming atmosphere.

Isabella stepped out of the car, her heels clicking softly against the ground.

For a moment, she hesitated.

Her fingers tightened slightly around her clutch.

Then she walked in.

The moment she crossed the entrance, everything shifted.

Heads turned.

Conversations paused.

Eyes followed her.

Isabella felt it instantly.

The attention.

Heavy. Intense.

Unavoidable.

She wasn’t invisible tonight.

Not even close.

The dress clung to her perfectly, accentuating every curve. The short hemline revealed her long legs, while the deep neckline drew more attention than she was used to.

Her heart raced.

She felt exposed.

But also…powerful.

In a way she didn’t fully understand.

Whispers began to ripple through the room.

“Is that Isabella Lombardi?”

“No way…”

“She looks—”

“Wow…”

Isabella swallowed, forcing herself to keep walking.

Her eyes scanned the crowd.

Looking for one person.

Alessandro.

And then she saw him.

Standing near the center of the room, surrounded by friends, laughing.

Confident.

Carefree.

Like always.

But the moment his gaze landed on her...

He froze.

His expression changed instantly.

His eyes darkened, trailing over her slowly, taking everything in.

A slow smile spread across his lips.

He broke away from his group and walked toward her.

“Isabella…” he breathed, stopping in front of her.

For a moment, he just looked at her.

As if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You look…” he paused, shaking his head slightly, “…incredible.”

Isabella forced a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Alessandro stepped closer, his gaze still fixed on her.

“I knew you’d steal the show tonight.”

He reached for her hand, pulling her gently toward him.

But Isabella barely noticed.

Because something else had caught her attention.

Not just something.

Someone.

Behind him.

Her gaze slowly lifted.

And then...her breath stopped.

The world around her faded.

The music.

The voices.

Everything.

Gone.

All she could see...was him.

Standing just a few feet behind Nico.

Tall.

Commanding.

Dressed in black.

His presence alone silencing everything around him.

Her heart slammed violently against her chest.

No.

No, no, no...

This couldn’t be happening.

Her vision blurred slightly.

Her body went cold.

It was him.

The man from that night.

The man she couldn’t forget.

The man she wasn’t supposed to ever see again.

But there he was.

Looking right at her.

His gaze locked onto hers with terrifying intensity.

Recognition flashed in his eyes.

Dark.

Unmistakable.

Isabella's breath hitched.

Her fingers trembled in Alessandro's grip.

“Alex…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

But he didn’t notice.

Didn’t see the fear in her eyes.

Didn’t feel the way her body had gone rigid.

Instead, he followed her gaze.

And smiled.

“Oh,” he said casually, “I almost forgot.”

He turned slightly, gesturing behind him.

“Isabella, meet my father.”

Time stopped.

“Don Lorenzo Valenti.”

The words echoed in her ears.

Her knees nearly gave out beneath her.

Father.

His father.

The room tilted.

Everything crashed into place all at once.

The mansion.

The room.

That night.

Her stomach twisted violently.

Lorenzo took a step forward.

Slow.

Controlled.

His eyes never leaving hers.

“Isabella…” he repeated her name, his voice low, dangerous.

As if tasting it.

As if claiming it.

Her heart pounded uncontrollably.

She couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t move.

This wasn’t a nightmare.

This was real.

And she was standing right in the middle of it.

Trapped.

Between a father…

And his son.