CHAPTER SIX : SHADOWS AND SECRETS

I've always prided myself on being a woman of control. Every move I make is calculated, every word chosen with precision, every action designed to secure my place beside Rafael. For twenty years, I have shaped and molded our empire, ensuring that nothing and no one could threaten what we've built. But Natalia De Luca is a disruption, an anomaly, and anomalies are dangerous.

The cool night air hits my face as I step outside Rafael's office building, still seething from his dismissal. My heels click sharply against the pavement, each step punctuating my fury. The city lights of Milan blur in the distance as my mind races through potential strategies. Natalia isn't just a nuisance; she's a carefully placed piece on a board I thought I controlled. But who placed her there?

I reach into my coat pocket and pull out my phone, my manicured finger scrolling through contacts until I find the number I need. Antonio Greco. The man is as dangerous as he is useful, a snake I once charmed into submission. Tonight, I'll see if he still remembers our mutual interests.

The line rings twice before he answers, his voice laced with amusement. "Isabella. It's been a while."

"We need to meet," I say without preamble. "Tomorrow. Somewhere private."

A low chuckle fills my ear. "You sound urgent. That's unlike you."

My grip tightens around the phone. "Are you available or not?"

A pause, then, "The usual place. Midnight."

I end the call without another word, slipping the phone back into my coat as I hail a car. The weight of my next move presses against my ribs like a knife. If Natalia is connected to Greco in any way, I need to know before Rafael gets in too deep. Before he does something foolish that could unravel everything we've built.

The drive to my penthouse is spent crafting contingencies. Surveillance, financial tracking, background checks—everything Matteo should have already been doing but clearly isn't fast enough. I can still see Rafael's face when Natalia walked into that meeting, the subtle shift in his expression. It's been years since I've seen that look, and it makes my blood run cold.

The moment I step inside my apartment, I toss my coat onto the couch and move to my private safe hidden behind an original Modigliani. My fingers work the combination with practiced ease, and I pull out a thick folder. Inside are documents detailing Greco's known associates, transactions, and whispered betrayals—information I've collected over years of careful surveillance. I will add Natalia De Luca's name to this list. And if Greco so much as hints at a connection, I'll know exactly how to proceed.

I pour myself a glass of red wine, the rich liquid as dark as the thoughts swirling in my mind. There's a part of me that recognizes this feeling—this gnawing, clawing sensation that something precious is being threatened. I felt it once before, years ago, when another woman caught Rafael's eye. That situation ended rather... permanently. 

The memory brings a cold smile to my lips. In this world, our world, threats must be eliminated before they take root. And Natalia De Luca has already begun to burrow too deep.

---

The next morning, I wake before dawn, my sleep disturbed by dreams of shadows and whispers. I shower and dress with methodical precision, selecting a blood-red suit that speaks of power and intimidation. Today, I need to remind everyone who I am—what I am capable of.

My phone buzzes with a message from one of my contacts. They've started digging into Natalia's past, but so far, everything checks out. Too perfectly, perhaps. Nobody's history is that clean unless someone has scrubbed it.

I make a few calls, activate some old connections. If there's dirt to be found, my people will find it. And there's always dirt. Everyone has secrets; it's simply a matter of knowing where to look.

By midday, I'm back at headquarters, walking the corridors that have become as familiar to me as my own home. People nod respectfully as I pass, their eyes averted. They know better than to engage me when I'm in this mood. All except Matteo, who falls into step beside me as I approach Rafael's office.

"He's with her," he says quietly, and I don't need to ask who he means.

I stop, my hand on the door handle. "Again? What business could possibly require so many meetings?"

Matteo's expression is carefully neutral. "The Barcelona expansion. She's been sharing insights about the local market."

"Has she now?" My voice drips with skepticism. "And I suppose Rafael finds these insights... compelling?"

"They appear to be valuable, yes."

I study Matteo's face, searching for any sign of disloyalty. He's been with us for fifteen years, Rafael's right hand in many ways. But even right hands can be turned if the price is right.

"What do you make of her, Matteo? Honestly."

He hesitates, weighing his words carefully. "She's intelligent. Well-connected. Her knowledge of Barcelona is extensive."

"That wasn't my question."

His eyes meet mine, unflinching. "I don't trust her. But then, I don't trust most people."

A smile tugs at my lips. "That's why you're still alive."

I push open the door without knocking, a privilege only I can claim. The conversation inside halts abruptly, and two pairs of eyes turn toward me—one annoyed, one coolly assessing.

Natalia De Luca sits across from Rafael, elegant in a navy suit that complements her olive complexion. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and for a moment, I'm struck by a strange sense of familiarity. Have we met before? Before Barcelona?

"Isabella," Rafael says, his voice tight with irritation. "We're in the middle of something."

"So I see." I smile, all teeth and no warmth. "Don't let me interrupt. I just needed to remind you about the Rossi meeting this afternoon."

It's a lie, and Rafael knows it. There is no Rossi meeting. But it serves its purpose—asserting my presence, my importance.

Natalia stands, smooth and graceful. "Actually, I was just leaving. We've covered everything for today." She extends her hand to Rafael, who takes it, holding it a fraction longer than necessary. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Moretti. I'll have those projections sent over by this evening."

Then she turns to me, that same hand extended. "Ms. Ricci. Always a pleasure."

I watch the embarrassed flush stain her cheeks as she stretches her hand to mine.

“It's Ms. Rissi, please.”

I take her hand, my grip firm as I try to fight a smile. Her skin is warm against mine, her pulse steady. Not intimidated, then. Interesting.

"Ms. De Luca. I hope we'll have a chance to talk properly soon. Perhaps dinner? I'd love to hear more about your... expertise."

Something flickers in her eyes—caution, perhaps, or assessment. Then she smiles, and I'm struck by how genuine it seems. "I'd like that very much."

As she leaves, I notice Rafael watching her, his expression unguarded for the briefest moment. In that sliver of time, I see everything I feared—interest, intrigue, desire. And something else, something I haven't seen in years: hope.

The door closes behind her, and Rafael's mask slides back into place. "Was that necessary?"

"Is she necessary?" I counter, moving to pour myself a drink from his personal bar. "Three meetings in two days, Rafael. People will talk."

"Let them talk. She has valuable insights."

I take a sip of whiskey, savoring the burn. "I'm sure she does. The question is, what does she want in return?"

Rafael leans back in his chair, studying me with those penetrating eyes that have always seen too much. "You're jealous."

The accusation stings, all the more because there's truth in it. But my concerns go beyond petty jealousy. "I'm cautious. There's a difference."

"Is there? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've already decided she's a threat."

I set down my glass with deliberate care. "Everyone is a potential threat until proven otherwise. That's how we've survived this long."

"No," Rafael says, his voice softening slightly. "That's how you see the world, Isabella. Not me."

His words cut deeper than he knows. For years, I've been the one to see the dangers lurking in the shadows while Rafael forged ahead, brilliant and bold. I've been the shield, the sword, the silent protector of everything we've built. And now, he's implying that my caution is a weakness rather than our strength.

"Tonight," I say, changing tack, "I'm meeting with an old contact. Someone who might have information about our newest... colleague."

Rafael's expression hardens. "Stay away from her, Isabella."

"Why? If she's as clean as she appears, what harm could come from a little due diligence?"

"Because I'm asking you to trust my judgment."

I laugh, short and sharp. "The last time I trusted your judgment about a woman, it nearly cost us everything."

The memory hangs between us, heavy and unspoken. Alina. The betrayal. The aftermath that left blood on both our hands.

Rafael stands, his movements controlled but his eyes blazing. "That was different. And we agreed never to speak of it again."

I move closer, unintimidated by his anger. "Different how? Because she smiles differently? Because she looks at you like she sees something worth salvaging? They all do, Rafael. Until they don't."

For a moment, I think he might lash out, might finally show the rage I know simmers beneath his carefully constructed facade. Instead, he turns away, dismissing me as effectively as if he'd shown me the door.

"Do what you need to do, Isabella. You always do. But remember—if you're wrong about her, there will be consequences."

The threat lingers in the air as I leave his office, my mind already turning to tonight's meeting with Greco. I've never been wrong about a threat before. And I won't start now. Natalia De Luca may have Rafael fooled, but I've spent a lifetime recognizing wolves in sheep's clothing.

Tonight, I'll discover what she's really after. And then, I'll do what I've always done—protect what's mine, no matter the cost.

Because in this life, this rebirth we've created from the ashes of our past, there is no room for second chances. Only survival.