The sun was already sinking below the horizon when Isabella left the company building. The day had been heavy, her mind still swirling around the note and the flowers.
But as soon as she walked through the glass doors, her steps stopped.
Leaning against a shiny black convertible, an unlit cigarette between his fingers and a teasing smile on his face, was Dante.
He seemed oblivious to the hustle and bustle of the street, as if the entire world were merely a backdrop to his presence.
Isabella's heart raced.
"Dante…" she murmured, trying to remain calm.
He arched an eyebrow, his intense eyes fixed on her.
"I've been waiting for you."
She took a deep breath and took a few steps toward him.
"I need to ask you something."
But before she could continue, Dante held up his hand, interrupting her.
"It doesn't matter what the question is." His smile widened, dangerous. "I'll only answer... if you're willing to take a ride with me." He tapped the car's bodywork lightly, inviting her.
Isabella felt a chill run down her spine.
"A ride? With you?" His tone was suspicious, but also curious.
Dante leaned closer, his gaze locked on hers.
"Yeah. A ride. Just the two of us." His voice was low, drawled, almost hypnotic. "You won't find out anything if you keep hiding behind your prince in a tie."
The words hit Isabella hard.
Alexander. Dante had made a point of casting his name into the shadows, like a sweet poison.
She crossed her arms, trying to resist.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
Dante let out a hoarse laugh.
"You can't," he replied without hesitation. "But that's exactly what makes it all the more interesting."
For a moment, Isabella was silent. The memory of the flowers on her bed and the mysterious note came back to her. If it really had been Dante, this was her chance to confront him. If not… perhaps she'd discover something worse.
She looked at the car, then back at him. Dante watched with feline patience, as if he already knew what her choice would be.
Isabella took a deep breath.
"Okay. Just one ride."
His smile widened, satisfied. He opened the passenger door with a gentlemanly gesture, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed ulterior motives.
"Get in, Isabella. I promise you won't regret it."
But as she placed her hand on the doorknob, a question throbbed in her mind:
"Am I about to get closer to truth… or doom?"