CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Rafael finished his morning espresso and picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Matteo's number. The decision had been brewing since yesterday's conversation with Natalie, and he'd finally decided to act on his instincts.

"Matteo, I need you to do something for me."

"Of course, boss. What do you need?"

"I want discrete monitoring on Natalie De Luca. Nothing invasive—just basic surveillance. Where she goes, who she meets with, any patterns in her behavior."

There was a pause on the other end. "Any particular reason?"

Rafael looked out his office window at the Milan skyline. "Call it due diligence. She's been given significant responsibility very quickly. I want to make sure we're not missing anything."

"Understood. I'll handle it personally."

"Good. And Matteo? This stays between us."

After ending the call, Rafael turned his attention to the morning's agenda. The first item was a strategy meeting with the department heads about the G & O project. He'd deliberately scheduled it to include both Isabella and Natalie, curious to see how they'd interact under pressure.

* * *

The conference room filled with the usual suspects—department heads, project managers, and the ever-present Isabella, who'd positioned herself in her customary seat at Rafael's right hand. When Natalie entered, she chose a seat directly across from Isabella, creating a visual divide that wasn't lost on anyone present.

"Let's begin," Rafael said, settling into his chair. "As you all know, the G & O project represents our largest expansion opportunity this year. Natalie will be leading the client relations aspect, with full authority to make strategic decisions."

Isabella's smile never wavered, but Rafael noticed the way her fingers tightened around her pen. "That's quite a responsibility for someone so new to our organization."

"I'm confident I can handle it," Natalie replied smoothly. "I've been reviewing the client profiles, and I believe we're missing some key opportunities in our approach."

She stood and moved to the whiteboard, sketching out a revised strategy that addressed several concerns Rafael hadn't even considered. Her presentation was confident, thorough, and brilliant—exactly the kind of innovative thinking that had made him promote her.

"The current approach focuses too heavily on our established services," Natalie continued. "But these clients are looking for something different. They want partnership, not just vendor relationships."

"Partnership?" Isabella's tone carried just enough skepticism to seem professional. "That's a significant shift in our business model."

"Not a shift. An evolution." Natalie met Isabella's gaze directly. "We're not changing what we do—we're changing how we do it. The revenue potential is substantially higher, and the client retention rates improve dramatically."

Rafael watched the exchange with growing interest. Isabella was skilled at corporate politics, but Natalie was holding her own with impressive composure. More than that, she was winning. The other department heads were nodding along with her points, clearly impressed by her analysis.

"What about the risk assessment?" Isabella pressed. "Partnership models require significantly more due diligence on our part."

"I've already begun preliminary background checks on all potential partners," Natalie replied. "The risk is manageable, and the potential returns justify the additional oversight."

Rafael leaned forward. "What kind of returns are we talking about?"

"Conservative estimates suggest a thirty percent increase in revenue within the first year. More aggressive projections put it closer to fifty percent." Natalie returned to her seat, her confidence filling the room. "I've prepared detailed financial models that I can share with the team."

The meeting continued for another hour, with Natalie systematically addressing every concern and objection. By the end, she'd essentially rewritten the entire project strategy, and everyone in the room knew it was superior to the original plan.

"Excellent work," Rafael said as the meeting concluded. "I want those financial models on my desk by tomorrow morning."

"Already done," Natalie replied, pulling a folder from her briefcase. "I had them prepared in case we needed to discuss specifics."

As the room emptied, Rafael found himself alone with Isabella. She was gathering her papers with sharp, efficient movements that betrayed her irritation.

"She's impressive," Rafael said, testing the waters.

"She's dangerous." Isabella's mask slipped for just a moment, revealing the anger beneath. "Rafael, I've been with this organization for five years. I've never seen anyone gain so much influence so quickly. It's not natural."

"Maybe it's just talent."

"Or maybe it's something else." Isabella moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I've been asking around about her background. The stories don't add up. Her supposed experience in New York? I called three different firms, and none of them have any record of her."

Rafael studied Isabella's face. Her concern seemed genuine, but there was something else there—a desperation that hadn't been present before Natalie's arrival.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that we don't know who she really is. And until we do, giving her access to our most sensitive operations is a mistake."

"I'll take that under advisement."

Isabella's hand touched his arm. "Rafael, I'm only thinking of your safety. Of the organization's security. You know I've always had your best interests at heart."

"I know you have." But even as he said it, Rafael found himself questioning whether that was still true. Isabella's loyalty had never been in doubt before, but her reaction to Natalie suggested something more personal than professional concern.

* * *

That afternoon, Rafael had a meeting with Mayor Benedetti about the city's new development initiative. It was a routine meeting, one he'd attended dozens of times, but this time he'd asked both Isabella and Natalie to join him.

The mayor's office was formal and imposing, with heavy wooden furniture and portraits of past officials staring down from the walls. Benedetti himself was a small, energetic man who'd built his career on careful alliances and strategic partnerships.

"Mr. Moretti, so good to see you again," the mayor said, shaking Rafael's hand. "And Ms. Rossi, always a pleasure."

"Thank you for making time for us," Rafael replied. "I'd like you to meet Natalie De Luca, our new project development director."

Natalie stepped forward with a smile that was both professional and warm. "Mayor Benedetti, it's an honor to meet you. I've been following your work on the affordable housing initiative with great interest."

"Ah, you're familiar with our housing projects?"

"Very familiar. In fact, I have some ideas about how the private sector might be able to support your goals while creating sustainable revenue streams for the city."

For the next twenty minutes, Natalie outlined a proposal that was both innovative and practical. She'd clearly done her homework, citing specific projects from other cities and providing detailed financial projections. The mayor listened with growing enthusiasm, occasionally asking questions that demonstrated his genuine interest.

Isabella, meanwhile, sat quietly in her chair, her usual charm replaced by a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. She'd been outmaneuvered again, and everyone in the room could see it.

"Ms. De Luca, this is exactly the kind of forward-thinking approach we need," the mayor said finally. "I'd like you to work directly with my development team on this initiative."

"I'd be delighted to," Natalie replied. "I'll have a formal proposal on your desk by the end of the week."

As they left the meeting, Rafael couldn't help but notice the way Isabella's composure had cracked. Her steps were sharp, her jaw tight, her usual grace replaced by barely controlled frustration.

"That was well done," Rafael said to Natalie as they walked to their cars.

"Thank you. I think there's real potential for a partnership there."

"I agree. The mayor was clearly impressed."

Behind them, Isabella climbed into her car and drove away without a word. Rafael watched her go, noting the way her tires squealed slightly as she pulled out of the parking garage.

"Is she always so... intense?" Natalie asked, following his gaze.

"She's been under a lot of pressure lately," Rafael replied, though he wasn't sure why he was making excuses for Isabella's behavior. "The organization has been growing rapidly, and change can be difficult."

"Of course. I hope I'm not making things more difficult for her."

The concern in Natalie's voice seemed genuine, but Rafael detected something else underneath—a satisfaction that she was trying to hide. It was the look of someone who'd just won an important battle and was trying not to gloat.

* * *

That evening, Rafael was reviewing contracts in his home office when his phone rang. Isabella's name appeared on the screen.

"Rafael, I need to talk to you. Tonight."

"It's late, Isabella. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No, it can't. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

She hung up before he could respond, leaving him staring at his phone with growing concern. Isabella was many things—ambitious, calculating, occasionally ruthless—but she was rarely emotional. The desperation he'd heard in her voice was new, and it worried him.

True to her word, she arrived twenty minutes later, her usually perfect appearance slightly disheveled. She'd been crying, he realized, though she'd tried to hide it with makeup.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leading her to his living room.

"It's her, Rafael. Natalie. She's destroying everything I've worked for."

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"Is it?" Isabella's voice cracked. "Six months ago, I was your right hand. I was the one you trusted with sensitive operations, the one you turned to for advice. Now I'm being pushed aside for someone we know nothing about."

Rafael poured himself a whiskey and offered one to Isabella, who declined with a shake of her head.

"You're not being pushed aside," he said carefully. "The organization is growing, and roles are evolving. There's room for both of you."

"No, there isn't. She's making sure of that." Isabella's composure finally cracked completely. "She's been systematically undermining me since the day she arrived. The financial audit, the meeting with the mayor, the way she presents herself as the solution to every problem—it's all calculated."

"Even if that's true, it doesn't change the fact that she's good at what she does."

"She's good at manipulation." Isabella stood and began pacing. "Rafael, I've given you five years of my life. I've been loyal, dedicated, trustworthy. And you're throwing it all away for a woman you've known for three weeks."

The accusation hung in the air between them, heavy with implications that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. Rafael set down his whiskey glass and studied Isabella's face.

"Is that what you think this is about?"

"I think you're attracted to her," Isabella said bluntly. "I think she reminds you of someone, and you're letting emotion cloud your judgment."

The words hit closer to home than Rafael wanted to admit. He had been thinking about Alina more frequently since Natalie's arrival, had been noticing similarities that couldn't be coincidental. But he wasn't ready to discuss that with Isabella.

"My personal feelings don't affect my business decisions."

"Don't they?" Isabella moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Rafael, I know you better than anyone. I know how you think, how you operate. And I know when you're being manipulated."

"And I know when someone is letting jealousy affect their judgment."

The words were harsher than he'd intended, but they had the desired effect. Isabella stepped back as if he'd slapped her.

"Jealousy?" she repeated. "You think this is about jealousy?"

"I think you're feeling threatened by someone who's very good at her job. And I think you're letting that threat make you paranoid."

Isabella stared at him for a long moment, her expression cycling through hurt, anger, and something that might have been resignation.

"You're right," she said finally. "I am feeling threatened. Because I can see what's happening, and you can't. Or won't."

She gathered her purse and headed for the door, then paused with her hand on the handle.

"I've been loyal to you for five years, Rafael. I've never questioned your decisions, never challenged your authority. But I'm questioning this one. And I'm telling you—if you continue down this path, you're going to regret it."

After she left, Rafael sat alone in his living room, staring at the whiskey glass in his hand. Isabella's words echoed in his mind, particularly her observation about Natalie reminding him of someone. 

It was true, though he'd been reluctant to acknowledge it. There were moments when Natalie's gestures, her expressions, even her laugh triggered memories of Alina. But that was impossible. Alina was dead. He'd seen her body, had held her lifeless form in his arms.

Unless...

Rafael shook his head, dismissing the thought before it could fully form. Grief could play tricks on the mind, could make someone see patterns and connections that didn't exist. That's all this was—his subconscious trying to process his loss by finding echoes of Alina in someone new.

But as he finished his whiskey and prepared for bed, he couldn't shake the feeling that Isabella's concerns weren't entirely unfounded. There was something about Natalie that didn't add up, something that suggested she was more than she appeared to be.

The question was whether that something was dangerous or just different. And whether he was strong enough to find out the truth without losing himself in the process.

Outside his window, Milan glittered in the darkness, full of secrets and possibilities. Somewhere in the city, both Isabella and Natalie were probably planning their next moves in whatever game they were playing.

Rafael just hoped he'd be able to tell the difference between ally and enemy before it was too late.