Chapter 2 The Devil's world
The car door slammed behind her, a sound so sharp it gave her chills. Isabella jumped, gripping the edge of her coat like a lifeline.
Leather wrapped around her, warm and rough. Smoke lingered faintly, bitter and familiar, curling around the air. She pressed her hands to her knees, twisting the fabric, trying to distract herself. Every nerve screamed for her to run. But the city had already slipped away, swallowed by shadows and neon as the car drove into the night.
Dante Moretti sat beside her, his profile bathed in the soft glow of dashboard lights. His eyes didn’t glance at her, his hands rested on his knees, relaxed, but the calm held a weight that pressed on her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. She had never been so aware of silence.
Up front, a man with a jagged scar along his jaw adjusted the rearview mirror. His eyes flicked to hers for a heartbeat, cold and unreadable, before returning to the road. Isabella swallowed hard, realizing she was being studied like prey.
The car slowed down at a red light. Enzo leaned close to Dante and muttered something in Italian. Dante didn’t answer. Instead, he flicked his gaze toward the Sidewalk, which did not last 4 seconds.
Isabella's gaze drifted to the sidewalk and she froze.
Two men knelt down, their hands bound, faces streaked with dried blood. A soldier stood over them, cracking his knuckles in slow, deliberate motions, as if preparing for a game. The men whispered something, begging, trembling but their words barely reached the ears of the people in the car.
The soldier’s fist came down once. The smaller man crumpled sideways.
Her stomach turned. Her fingers clawed the leather seat, she wanted to look away, to pretend she hadn’t seen it but her eyes were glued to the scene, trapped in it, just like the men on the pavement. She felt pity for them but there was nothing she could do.
The light flicked green. The car rolled forward, smooth and indifferent. The scene vanished, leaving only the echo of the city in her ears.
No one in the car had even blinked. They were focused on what they were doing.
Isabella’s chest heaved. Every part of her body was trembling. This, this is their world.
She pressed her palms to her thighs, nails digging into fabric, fighting the urge to vomit, to scream. Her mind raced with one thought. “ What has Marco done? What have we stepped into?”
And beneath the fear, a quiet, piercing anticipation prickled her skin. Something was coming. Something unavoidable. And she was already too far inside this darkness to turn back.
---
The city gave way to trees, shadows stretching across the road. Then, looming black gates appeared.
They opened with a groan, and beyond them, a mansion could be seen. Its windows glowed, but it wasn’t inviting, it was watching. Guards moved like statues, rifles slung casually, eyes scanning for trouble.
The car stopped at stone steps, and a guard yanked the door open. “Out.” he said in a commanding yet mocking tone.
Isabella’s legs trembled, but she obeyed. Her coat was thin against the night air, but the cold was nothing compared to the fear crawling up her spine.
Inside, marble floors gleamed. Chandeliers threw fractured light across men in dark suits. Their eyes measured her, silent and sharp.
“Phone,” Dante said, not sounding like a request.
The scarred man reached out. Isabella pressed her hands together as if the leather seat had been a lifeline. She dropped her phone into his palm. Just like that, she lost her last hold to the outside world, to her family.
Her chest ached. No way to call Marco, no way to check on her mother. Her world had shrunk to this hallway of strangers, shadows, and rules she didn’t understand.
Tears stung, but she blinked them back. “I have to survive. I have to.” She thought to herself.
---
Footsteps clicked on marble.
A woman appeared on the staircase, tall, sharp, moving with ease. Her dress clung to every curve. Her hair gleamed in the chandelier light. Red lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Another stray, cousin?” she said. Her gaze swept Isabella like she was a stray cat, unworthy and misplaced.
Dante didn’t even glance at her.
“Lucia,” he said flatly.
Lucia’s smile widened. “She won’t last.”
Her laugh echoed. It wasn’t loud, but it carried across the hallway like a warning.
Isabella froze.
Dante’s voice cut through the tension. “Move.”
Isabella swallowed, her legs shaking as she followed him down a long hallway lined with oil paintings.
He led her into a study, huge enough to swallow her apartment twice over. The fire crackled, throwing shadows across shelves of leather-bound books. The desk looked like a throne disguised as furniture.
He stopped. Finally, he faced her fully.
“Your brother walks free tonight because of you,” he said. His voice was smooth, deliberate, and terrifying all at once. “That means his debt is now your burden.”
Her throat went dry. “What do you want from me?”
Dante stepped closer. Close enough that she could feel his presence pressing down, but he didn’t touch her. His gaze pinned her in place.
“You’ll find out,” he murmured.
Her heart skipped. “Why not now?”
A faint curve on his lips. “Because suspense is part of the punishment.”
She staggered back a step.
“You’re in my house. You’ll obey my rules. You’ll learn what belonging to me truly means.” He said
“Belonging to him?” She asked herself silently.
She thought of Marco’s wide, frightened eyes. Of her mother, sick in the hospital bed. Of the men kneeling in the street back home.
And she realized she hadn’t saved anyone. Not her brother, not her mother. She had only traded one cage for another.
She lifted her gaze to Dante, voice shaking but
defiant. “If I don’t obey?”
His silence was more terrifying than words. His stare said it all.
