The night was quiet. The streetlights illuminated the empty road, and a cool breeze brushed against her face.
She was so focused on reaching the main road that she barely noticed the sound of an approaching vehicle.
A black SUV suddenly came from behind and stopped directly in front of her, blocking her path.
Isabella froze.
She stepped back and tried to see through the darkened windows.
“Who is it?” she whispered.
Before she could move away, the car door opened.
A strong hand grabbed her waist and pulled her inside.
“Help!” she screamed.
Another hand covered her mouth.
The door slammed shut.
The vehicle immediately sped away.
Isabella struggled desperately, trying to free herself, but the person holding her was far stronger.
“Hmmph! Mmmph!”
Her cries were muffled beneath the hand covering her mouth.
After a few moments, she managed to turn her head and look at the person beside her.
Then she went completely still.
Dante Moretti.
Her eyes widened in horror.
Before she could understand what was happening, she realized that she was sitting on his lap.
She tried to scramble away and reach the other seat.
“Stay still,” Dante ordered.
He pulled her close against his body, holding her firmly. He lowered his face toward her hair and took a slow, deep breath.
For a brief moment, he closed his eyes.
He had spent hours pretending that he did not care about her. Yet the moment he saw her walking away from the mansion, dragging a suitcase behind her, something inside him had snapped.
He could not let her leave.
Not now.
Not when he had only just found her again.
After a little while, he moved her onto the seat beside him.
“Sit properly.”
Isabella stared at him, trembling.
His expression was furious, and he glared at her as though she had committed an unforgivable crime.
But beneath that angry expression, an unfamiliar happiness stirred inside him.
She was here.
With him.
And he had no intention of letting her disappear again.
Isabella, however, could not see any of that.
All she saw was a dangerous man who had kidnapped her.
She immediately reached for the car door.
“I want to get out!”
Dante pressed the lock button.
The doors clicked shut.
Isabella pulled the handle again, panic rising in her chest.
“Open it!”
Instead of answering, Dante took a gun from his pocket.
He checked it and loaded it with a cold, deliberate movement.
Click.
The sound made Isabella's heart stop.
She stared at the weapon.
Dante did not even need to point it at her. The message was clear enough.
She slowly withdrew her hand from the door.
Her body trembled as she turned toward the window.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to escape the terrifying reality around her.
Exhaustion, fear, and the long day finally overwhelmed her.
With her eyes tightly closed, she eventually fell asleep.
Dante glanced at her.
Her head had tilted against the seat, and her expression had softened in sleep.
His gaze lingered on her face.
“My foolish little girl,” he murmured.
There was no real anger in his voice now.
He looked away before he could understand why.