The Mafia Boss Locked the Door After Midnight — Then His Secretary Whispered Why She Was Leaving
Chapter 3
Isabella didn’t go home.
Vincent sent two cars with her, but she refused to let anyone inside her apartment.
She needed space.
She needed silence.
Most importantly, she needed to think.
At 2:30 a.m., she sat on her kitchen floor with the lights off.
The photograph Vincent had shown her was still in her mind.
Marco.
Laughing beside her.
She had loved him before she ever knew his last name.
He had introduced himself as Mark.
He had told her he worked in international shipping.
He had taken her to quiet restaurants and hidden beaches.
He had never spoken about his family.
Then one morning, he disappeared.
No goodbye.
No message.
Nothing.
Isabella had spent months searching.
Then she eventually accepted that he was gone.
She had never imagined he was Vincent Moretti’s brother.
Never imagined he had been living a double life.
Never imagined she was carrying his child.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
She stared at it.
It rang again.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man’s voice.
“Isabella.”
Her blood froze.
“Marco?”
A long pause.
“You shouldn’t have told Vincent.”
“I didn’t.”
“He knows.”
“He found out.”
“Leave the city.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re listening.”
“Who?”
Marco’s voice became urgent.
“Listen carefully.”
Isabella sat upright.
“Don’t trust Vincent.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows about the baby.”
“How did you know?”
“I know everything.”
She felt a chill.
“Then why did you leave me?”
Silence.
“Marco?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From my brother.”
The line went dead.
Isabella immediately called Vincent.
He answered on the first ring.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Did Marco call?”
She froze.
“How did you know?”
“Because your phone was compromised.”
She looked at the device.
“What?”
“Turn it off.”
She did.
Vincent continued.
“Go to the bedroom.”
“Why?”
“There’s a safe behind the painting.”
She stared at the wall.
“You’ve been inside my apartment?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because Marco installed the safe.”
Isabella found it.
Inside was a passport.
Cash.
A small pistol.
And a handwritten note.
If Vincent finds you, don’t believe everything he says.
Isabella’s hands shook.
Vincent remained on the phone.
“What did you find?”
She didn’t answer.
“Isabella?”
She closed the safe.
“Nothing.”
Vincent immediately understood.
“You found something.”
“No.”
“Listen to me.”
She hung up.
Then someone knocked on her apartment door.
Three slow knocks.
Isabella froze.
Another knock.
“Isabella?”
A man’s voice.
She recognized it.
Vincent.
She moved toward the door.
“Open it.”
“How did you get here?”
“I came to protect you.”
She looked through the peephole.
Vincent stood alone.
No guards.
No weapons visible.
She opened the door halfway.
“You lied to me.”
Vincent looked at her.
“About what?”
“The safe.”
He sighed.
“Marco used that apartment years ago.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about him.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the baby.”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
“I didn’t know.”
For the first time, Isabella believed him.
Vincent stepped inside.
“I’ve been looking for Marco for six years.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought he betrayed me.”
“And now?”
“Now I think he was trying to expose something.”
“What?”
Vincent looked toward the window.
“Someone has been controlling both of us.”
Isabella’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Vincent didn’t answer.
Instead, he said:
“The person who has been sending me photographs of you isn’t Marco.”
He looked at her.
“It’s someone much closer.”
