Alexander stood before Isabella, ready to say something, but she raised her hand, her patience exhausted.
"Stop it, both of you!" Her voice was firm, surprising both men. "I'm not going to stand here and watch two snakes bite each other. Enough. I'm going home."
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned away.
"Isabella, wait…" Alexander took a step forward, trying to stop her.
But Dante intercepted, placing himself between them.
"Let her go. It's better this way." Her tone was low, but firm.
Alexander narrowed his eyes, his jaw set, full of hatred.
"This… all of this is your fault." She spat the words, staring at Dante as if she wanted to pierce him with her eyes.
Dante just smirked, indifferent.
"If your mask is so fragile that it falls in my presence… it's not my fault."
Isabella didn't hear the rest. Her heart was already too heavy, her thoughts too confused.
She walked quickly until she reached home, closing the door behind her as if to shut the world out.
In the silence of the apartment, she dropped her bag on the sofa and took a deep breath.
*"What a day…"*
She spent hours reflecting, replaying in her mind every word spoken at the café, every look exchanged between Alexander and Dante.
One was the promise of security and elegance.
The other, the dangerous temptation of the shadows.
And she… trapped between two paths she never imagined she would have to choose.
When she finally entered the bedroom, ready to throw herself into bed, her body froze.
On the sheets lay a bouquet of fresh flowers—deep red roses.
And beside them, a small, carefully folded note.
With trembling hands, Isabella took the envelope.
The scent of flowers filled the air, sweet and intense, but the note was what made her heart race.
"To the woman who lights up even the darkness."*
No signature. No clue who had been there.
Isabella looked around, as if the intruder might still be hiding somewhere in the apartment.
A chill ran down her spine.
"Who... left this here?" she murmured, clutching the note to her chest.
Was it Alexander, trying to apologize?
Or Dante, showing that he was always watching her?
Or...someone else entirely?
That night, lying in bed next to the flowers, Isabella realized:
The game was just beginning.