Chapter 5 I PROMISE.

CHAPTER 5

Isabella sat on the edge of the grand canopy bed, her mind a whirlwind of defiance and fear. The events of the past days had left her drained, but her spirit remained unbroken. The grand room, with its gilded mirrors and silk drapes, felt more like a gilded cage than a sanctuary.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, revealing a young maid with downcast eyes.

"Miss Ricci," the maid began hesitantly, "Mr. Valenti requests your presence for dinner in the main dining hall."

Isabella's jaw tightened. "Tell Mr. Valenti that I'm not hungry."

The maid shifted uncomfortably. "Miss, it's not a request."

Isabella's eyes narrowed. "Then let him come and drag me there himself."

The maid's face paled. "Please, Miss. It's best not to anger him."

Taking a deep breath, Isabella weighed her options. Defying Dante had its consequences, but perhaps it was time to confront the devil himself.

"Lead the way," she said, her voice resolute.

The dining hall was a masterpiece of Renaissance architecture. A long mahogany table stretched across the room, adorned with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow. At the head of the table sat Dante Valenti, exuding an air of cold authority.

"Isabella," he greeted, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Join me."

She hesitated for a moment before walking to the opposite end of the table. Instead of sitting, she remained standing, arms crossed.

"I'm not here by choice," she stated defiantly.

Dante's lips curled into a faint smile. "Nevertheless, you're here. Sit."

Reluctantly, she pulled out the chair and sat, her posture stiff.

Servants entered, placing dishes of gourmet cuisine before them. The aroma was tantalizing, but Isabella refused to show any sign of weakness.

Dante observed her intently. "You haven't eaten properly since you arrived."

"My appetite seems to have vanished," she retorted.

He leaned back, studying her. "Defiance is admirable, but foolish in your position."

Isabella met his gaze head-on. "I'd rather be foolish than a puppet."

A tense silence enveloped the room. The air was thick with unspoken words.

Dante's voice broke the silence. "Eat."

"No."

His eyes darkened. "Isabella, don't test me."

She smirked, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Or what? You'll lock me away again?"

In a swift motion, Dante stood and approached her. Isabella rose to meet him, refusing to be intimidated. They stood mere inches apart, the heat of their confrontation palpable.

"You think you can break me?" she challenged.

Dante's eyes bore into hers. "I don't need to break you. You'll come to me willingly."

The audacity of his statement ignited a fire within her. Without thinking, her hand flew across his face, the sharp sound of the slap echoing through the hall.

A stunned silence followed.

Then, to her astonishment, Dante's lips curled into a genuine smile. "There's that spirit."

Confused and infuriated, Isabella turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining hall, leaving a chuckling Dante behind.

Back in her room, Isabella paced, her mind racing. The audacity of Dante, his smug demeanor, and that infuriating smile after she slapped him-it all unsettled her.

She needed an outlet, a way to regain some semblance of control.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for anything amiss. A nagging feeling told her she was being watched. Remembering stories she'd read about hidden surveillance, she decided to investigate.

Recalling an article she'd come across about detecting hidden cameras, she turned off all the lights, plunging the room into darkness. Using her phone's flashlight, she slowly scanned the room, paying close attention to any unusual reflections.

Near the ornate mirror above the dresser, a tiny glint caught her eye. Approaching cautiously, she examined the area and discovered a minuscule lens embedded within the intricate carvings.

Her heart pounded. She was indeed being watched.

Determined, she recalled another method she'd read about. She fetched a small piece of cloth and carefully covered the lens, ensuring it was obstructed without drawing attention.

Satisfied, she took a deep breath. This small act of rebellion gave her a fleeting sense of victory.

The following afternoon, as Isabella sat by the window, the door opened unexpectedly. To her surprise, Sofia, her childhood friend, stepped in, her face etched with worry.

"Sofia?" Isabella gasped, rushing to embrace her. "How did you get here?"

Sofia glanced around nervously. "I pulled some strings. But we don't have much time."

Isabella pulled back, searching her friend's eyes. "What's going on?"

Sofia took a deep breath. "Dante Valenti is more dangerous than you realize. There are rumors about someone trying to infiltrate his empire. It's causing unrest among his men."

Isabella's brow furrowed. "Infiltrate? Who?"

Sofia shook her head. "I don't know. But you need to be careful. You're in the lion's den."

Determination flared in Isabella's eyes. "I won't let him control me."

Sofia squeezed her hand. "Just promise me you'll stay safe."

"I promise."

As Sofia left, Isabella's resolve solidified. She would survive this ordeal, no matter the cost.

Nightfall brought a restless energy. Isabella knew she had to uncover more about her captor and his intentions.

Recalling the layout she'd memorized, she decided to sneak into Dante's study. The house was vast, but she had observed the guards' routines over the past days.

Slipping out of her room, she moved silently through the dimly lit corridors, avoiding the creaky floorboards. Reaching the study, she tested the door. It was Locked.

Anticipating this, she retrieved a hairpin from her pocket. Years of hacking had taught her more than just digital skills. With deft fingers, she picked the lock, the door clicking open softly.

Inside, the study was a testament to Dante's power-dark wood, leather-bound books, and an imposing desk.

She approached the desk, searching for anything that could provide insight. Opening a drawer, she found a file with her name on it.

Her breath caught.

Opening it, she was shocked to see detailed information about her-photos, personal records, even notes about her hacking activities. The most chilling part was the date on the file.

It was created months before her father's debt.

A cold realization washed over her. This wasn't a mere transaction to settle a debt. Dante had been watching her long before that.

The sound of footsteps approaching jolted her back to the present. Quickly, she returned the file, and hide behind the tall shelf at the left side of the room.