I moved barefoot through the penthouse, my robe brushing against my legs. Mikhail's breathing came softly from the bedroom, deep, steady, and unaware. I hesitated at the door before turning away and heading down the hall.
My heart wouldn't stop pounding, and I didn't even know what I was looking for. Maybe answers or proof that I wasn't losing my mind.
The office smelled faintly of smoke and leather. The city lights spilled through the glass wall, painting everything in silver and shadow. Papers were scattered across the desk, and Mikhail's jacket was slung over the chair.
I took a deep breath and started searching. Drawers opened and shut. Files, documents, maps, and names. My fingers shook, but I kept going.
Then, I saw it. A folder marked GIOVANNI MORETTI.
My stomach dropped, and I pulled it out slowly, as if it might burn me. Inside were photos of Giovanni's car, the night he died. Bank records, messages between Marco and an Italian contact. Payments made, dates, all pointing to one truth.
My throat closed. "No..." I whispered. "No, it can't be."
Mikhail hadn't lied. The papers slipped to the floor, and my knees felt weak. I gripped the desk, breathing hard.
"Oh God, what have I done?" I whispered.
Tears blurred the words on the page. All this time, I had hated Mikhail, blaming him for Giovanni's death while my own father was the monster behind it.
I wanted to scream, to break something, to undo everything. I wiped my face, ready to leave before Mikhail woke up. But then something else caught my eye. Another folder, black and unmarked except for one name written across it in small white letters. ISABELLA MORETTI.
My fingers hesitated before I opened it. Inside were photocopies. Dozens of them were of me in a Paris café, me walking to work, and me in a bookstore, smiling at a stranger. Dates scribbled at the corners, all from over a year ago.
Mikhail hadn't just met me on Bratva grounds. He had been following me long before. He was studying me, memorizing my life like a hunter tracing his prey. The betrayal twisted inside me, sharp and raw.
My father had sold me, and my lover had stalked me. I stood there in the dark, with two folders clutched to my chest. One filled with my father's betrayal and the other with Mikhail's obsession.
Outside, the city lights kept shining in the cold. My voice came out broken, barely a whisper. "Everyone I've tried to trust has made me their prey.”
Chapter Twenty
Mikhail's POV
The first thing I felt was the cold and empty bed. There was no warmth, no sound, just the faint hum of the city outside.My eyes opened fast. The sheets were pulled halfway off, her pillow dented, and I could still smell her perfume.
But something was wrong. I sat up, my hand brushing the nightstand. The glass of water was untouched, and the robe she wore after her shower was gone. A faint rustle echoed down the hall, and my chest tightened.
I walked barefoot through the corridor, the floor cold under my feet. The door to my office was open, and light spilled through it.
And there she was, barefoot, and her hair was messy. Her robe had slipped off one of her shoulders, and the moonlight hit her skin like a ghost. She was standing by the desk, clutching two folders, one marked Giovanni, the other Caruso.
Her face was pale, and her eyes were wet. She didn't even look up when she whispered, "He really did sell Giovanni out, didn't he?"
Her voice trembled, but there was no shock in her eyes, just a quiet pain.
I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms. "You shouldn't be in here."
She finally looked at me with her red eyes. "You lied."
I shook my head once. "No, I told you I never lie to you, Isabella. I don't need to."
Her grip tightened on the files. "Everything feels wrong. My father, my brother, and you." Her voice cracked. "I don't even know what's real anymore."
I walk quietly and slowly to her. "You don't have to understand it tonight," I say. "Just know I'd never betray you."
She laughed softly and broke. "You're good at making betrayal sound romantic."
I stopped just inches away, close enough to see the tears on her lashes. "You think I wanted this? That I enjoyed pulling the world apart just to keep you safe?"
