Friday morning.
Isabelle was making coffee when the apartment buzzer rang.
"I didn't order anything," she muttered, wiping her hands on a towel as she pressed the intercom.
"Mail delivery," a familiar voice replied. "Package for Isabelle Torres."
She frowned, stepping into the lobby. The small envelope in her hands had no return address—just her name, written in neat, deliberate handwriting.
Back in the apartment, she carefully opened it. Inside was a single piece of paper: a letter.
"You think you've won. But victory is temporary. Watch closely… the next move will surprise you."
Her heart skipped a beat.
"Marco…" she called, voice trembling slightly.
He appeared in the kitchen doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What is it?"
Isabelle held up the letter. "I don't know… someone sent this. No return address. But it's… threatening. Again."
Marco frowned, taking the paper from her hands. "Hmm…" He read it aloud slowly, his voice steady. "'Victory is temporary… next move will surprise you.'"
Her chest tightened. "It's Clara, isn't it?"
Marco shook his head. "Maybe. Or… maybe someone else. Someone new."
The thought sent a shiver down Isabelle's spine. The calm they had enjoyed—just for a few days—was now shattered.
She sank onto the couch, holding the letter. "I thought… I thought we were safe. That we finally had some peace."
Marco sat beside her, pulling her close. "We had peace… for a moment. But Isabelle, that's life. Challenges will keep coming. What matters is that we face them together. And we can."
Her eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "You're right. We're stronger together. But… who would want to… target us now?"
Marco tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Could be someone connected to Victor. Or maybe Clara had an ally we haven't discovered yet. Either way… we'll find out."
Isabelle nodded, a spark of resolve igniting within her. "Then we need to be ready. This time, we strike first—strategically, carefully. No more surprises."
Marco smiled faintly, brushing her hair back. "Exactly. And no matter what happens… we face it together. Nothing breaks us."
She rested her head on his chest, feeling the steadiness of his heartbeat. Despite the new threat, she felt a renewed sense of courage.
Because even in uncertainty, even in fear… they had each other.
And Isabelle knew one truth with absolute clarity: no letter, no threat, no twist—no matter how clever—could ever truly separate them.
This was just another storm. And storms… they weathered together.