“You can't keep me here! My father will find out that I'm missing. He'll come looking for me, and there will be trouble!”
Dante stopped beside the bed.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he smiled coldly.
“Your father?”
He tilted his head.
“Let me tell you what might happen if nobody finds you. I could sell you on the black market in a year. You might disappear so completely that nobody would ever know where you went.”
Isabella's lips trembled.
Dante leaned closer.
“Of course, if your father manages to find me before that, perhaps you'll be saved.”
He straightened and watched her reaction.
Isabella felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath her.
“Please...” she whispered. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble. Please forgive me.”
Dante's expression remained unreadable.
“Tell me something, Isabella. How did you survive for four months on only a few thousand euros?”
She blinked in confusion.
“Mr. Moretti, your black card is still in my purse.”
“I know where my card is.”
He stepped closer.
“That isn't what I asked.”
She lowered her eyes.
“How did you survive on that amount? And how do you intend to settle the money you took?”
“I know it was wrong,” she said quickly. “I won't do it again. I'll compensate you for everything.”
Dante folded his arms.
“How?”
“I found a good job,” she replied. “I received an offer yesterday. They provide food and accommodation. If you let me go, I can work and pay you back.”
He stared at her for a few seconds.
Then he smiled.
“I called you here to give you a job.”
Isabella looked up.
“A job?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of work are you going to give me?”
Dante recited her email address aloud.
Isabella's eyes widened.
“How do you know my email ID?”
She stared at him, a new suspicion dawning on her face.
“Wait... Did you send me that job offer?”
Dante's smile vanished.
“I don't like questions.”
She fell silent.
“I'm the one who asks questions here. You answer them.”
He drew his gun and pointed it toward her.
Isabella immediately stopped speaking.
“O-okay,” she stammered. “I understand.”
She forced a nervous smile, trying to calm him.
“So... where is the office?”
Dante's expression softened into a mocking smile.
“Your office?”
He glanced around the room.
“It's here.”
Isabella frowned.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him in confusion.
“What job are you giving me, Mr. Moretti?”
Dante leaned down slightly, his smile growing wider.
“My personal maid.”
Isabella stared at him.
“Your... personal maid?”
“Exactly.”
“No! I can't do that!”
His eyebrows rose.
“And why not?”
“Because I studied arts! I'm a college student. I can't just become your maid!”
Dante let out a quiet laugh.
“Really? That's interesting.”
He began counting on his fingers.
“For four months, you cooked for me. Terribly, I might add. You fed me, helped me bathe, bought clothes for me, and washed my clothes.”
Isabella's mouth opened, but no words came out.
“And now you're telling me you can't be a maid?”
He gave her a teasing look.
“You were very good at it for someone who claims to be educated.”
“I didn't have a choice!” she protested.
“Neither do you now.”
He walked toward the wardrobe and glanced at the clothes inside.
“You remember the clothes you bought me? Cheap, weren't they?”
Isabella looked away.
Dante continued, apparently enjoying himself.
“I'm a rich man, yet you made me wear clothes from those little thrift stores.”
He paused, considering it.
“Still, I have to admit something. Those clothes were surprisingly comfortable. I learned that expensive clothes aren't always the best.”
He looked at her again.
“Perhaps I should thank you.”
“Please stop making fun of me!”
Dante laughed softly.
It was strange how easily he found himself teasing her now. He had spent most of his life surrounded by people who feared him, people who obeyed his every command, and people who would never dare speak to him the way Isabella did.
She irritated him.
She challenged him.
And somehow, he wanted to remain beside her just to see what she would do next.
He approached the bed and bent over her.
Isabella instinctively leaned away.
Dante lowered his voice and whispered into her ear.
“And there's one more thing.”
She froze.
“These days, when I take a bath, it doesn't feel the same.”
He smiled against her ear.
“From now on, you'll have to use a sponge and clean every part of my body properly.”
Isabella's face turned bright red.
“W-what are you saying?”
“You heard me.”
She tried to retreat farther across the bed, but the handcuff stopped her.
Dante reached down and caught one of her legs.
Isabella lost her balance.
She moved forward at the same moment he leaned closer.
Their lips brushed lightly.
Both of them froze.
For a fraction of a second, Dante's face turned red.
He stared at her, surprised by his own reaction.
Isabella stared back, equally shocked.
Then Dante quickly straightened.
His expression hardened, and he put on the familiar cruel mask that had made so many people fear him.
“Don't misunderstand anything,” he said coldly.
Isabella looked away, her cheeks still burning.
Dante stepped back.
“You will stay here for one year. During that time, I'll show you exactly who Dante Moretti is.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You'll learn how cruel I can be. And you'll regret what you did to me four months ago.”
“Please, forgive me!” Isabella cried. “I don't want to stay here. Let me go!”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“My grandmother is waiting for me. She'll worry when she finds out I'm gone!”
Dante watched her for a moment.
Then he gave a dismissive wave.
“Your family won't worry.”
Isabella looked at him.
“What?”
“The job offer was arranged by me. We sent the email so your family would believe you had found work and accommodation.”
Her heart sank.
“So... everything was planned?”
“Every bit of it.”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“Please, Mr. Moretti. At least let me see my grandmother. She loves me. She'll be worried about me.”
Dante's expression became unreadable.
“You can see your family when I decide you can. And after one year, if you still don't want to stay here, I'll personally take you back home.”
Isabella stared at him, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth.
“Until then,” he continued, “you will not attempt to escape.”
He paused, allowing the warning to sink in.
“And remember something, Isabella. Your grandmother is still at the Romano mansion.”
Her breathing became shallow.
Dante looked directly into her eyes.
“If you do anything foolish, I can make things very difficult for you.”
He knew perfectly well that the Romano mansion was not surrounded by an army of guards. He was bluffing, using her love for her grandmother to keep her from trying to escape again.
But Isabella did not know that.
She believed every word.
Dante straightened his rob and gave her a proud, almost arrogant look.
“The Romano mansion is surrounded by plenty of guards. Don't even think about doing anything stupid.”
Isabella slowly lowered her head.
She was frightened, trapped, and completely helpless.
Dante watched her for a moment.
Then, when she wasn't looking directly at him, a small smile appeared on his face.
He reached down and gently ruffled her hair.
Isabella looked up in surprise.
Before she could react, he withdrew his hand and laughed in his usual mocking manner.
“Enjoy your new life, Isabella.”
He turned toward the door.
“For another year, you'll still be here in this little hell of yours, working as the personal maid of the Mafia Don.”
Isabella stared at him in shock.
Dante looked back at her one last time, wearing the cruel smile she had come to fear.
The door closed behind him.
And Isabella was left alone in the room, handcuffed to the bed, trapped in the mansion of the very man she had spent four months trying to escape.
She had thought that leaving the Romano mansion would give her a chance at freedom.
Instead, she had walked straight into another prison.
END OF BOOK 4
To be continued...