The air was still, heavy with silence as Alessia Moretti drove along the winding road leading out of the estate. The world outside her windows was calm and unmoving, yet her pulse was anything but steady.
She kept glancing at her phone on the passenger seat, waiting for another message or update. Nothing came—only the hum of the engine and the echo of her racing thoughts.
An accident. The Romano's Private Hospital. It made sense—her family's own facility, the one her father trusted above all others. If he had been taken there, it had to be serious.
She pressed harder on the accelerator.
The road curved sharply ahead, leading into a countryside stretch where the city lights faded behind her. The silence grew heavier, pressing against her chest.
Then her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: "Take the side road after the bridge. It's faster."
She frowned. The message didn't sound like something a hospital staff member would send. But panic clouded her judgment. She told herself it was someone trying to help—maybe a driver, maybe security.
She slowed as the bridge came into view, the stone arch faintly visible under dim lights. The side road appeared just beyond it, narrow and unlit.
She hesitated for a moment. Then she turned.
The tires rolled over uneven ground, the car jolting slightly as the road grew rougher. The trees grew denser, shadows stretching across the path.
Another message came through.
"Keep going straight".
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. Something felt wrong now—the tone, the phrasing. She tried calling the number, but it went straight to voicemail.
Her heart pounded. She reached for the dashboard screen, trying to pull up the hospital's number, but before she could, the headlights of a black SUV flared in her rearview mirror.
It was close—too close.
She pressed the accelerator, but the SUV matched her speed. Then another vehicle appeared ahead, blocking the road.
Her breath caught.
She slammed the brakes. The car skidded, tires screeching against gravel. The world tilted for a moment, then stopped.
The SUV behind her swerved, cutting her off completely.
The doors opened. Two men stepped out, their faces hidden behind masks.
Alessia's pulse thundered in her ears. She locked the doors, fumbling for her phone, but one of the men struck the window with something heavy. The glass cracked, then shattered.
"Get out!" one of them shouted.
She screamed, trying to push away, but the door was yanked open. A hand grabbed her arm, dragging her out. She kicked and fought, but another man caught her from behind, pressing a cloth over her mouth.
The sharp, chemical scent filled her lungs. Her vision blurred.
The last thing she saw before everything went black was the faint outline of the SUV's headlights cutting through the darkness.
Clara Bianchi was still at her desk, sorting through invitations for the upcoming charity season. She glanced at the clock—nearly midnight.
Clara smiled faintly, unaware of the silence outside and unaware that the woman she served so faithfully was already gone.
When Alessia woke, the air was cold and still. The faint hum of a generator echoed somewhere nearby. Her wrists were bound, her head heavy. She blinked, trying to focus.
Concrete walls. A single light bulb swinging overhead. The smell of oil and rust.
A warehouse.
She tried to move, but the ropes cut into her skin. Her breath came fast, shallow.
Then she heard footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.
Isabella Rossi stepped out of the shadows, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She was dressed in black, her expression calm—almost serene.
"Welcome, Alessia," she said softly. "You've had quite a day."
Alessia's voice trembled. "Where… where am I? Who are you?"
The woman smiled faintly, tilting her head. "You'll know soon enough."
She crouched beside her, her perfume sharp and unfamiliar. "You don't need to be afraid. Not yet."
Alessia's pulse quickened. "What do you want from me?"
Isabella crouched beside her, her eyes gleaming. "You took something that wasn't yours. And now, I'm taking it back."
She stood, turning toward the door. "Don't worry. I know Damian will come for you. That's the point."
Her smile turned cold. "And when he does, he'll finally understand what it means to lose everything."
The door slammed shut, leaving Alessia alone in the dark—silent and surrounded by deception.