Chapter 6 — The Secret Behind Isabella Rossi
Chapter 6 — The Secret Behind Isabella Rossi
Isabella Rossi had spent years convincing herself that she was the villain.
It was easier that way.
Villains didn't have to remember why they became cruel.
They didn't have to admit they were frightened.
They didn't have to think about the little girl they had once been.
But at 11:48 p.m., sitting alone in an interrogation room with a police officer outside the door, Isabella finally remembered.
She remembered her mother.
She remembered the night her mother disappeared.
And she remembered the promise that had been made to her when she was seventeen.
A promise that had controlled every decision she made afterward.
One day, you will be Mrs. Thorne.
She had believed it was a promise of love.
It had never been.
It was a contract.
Detective Harris entered the room carrying a thick file.
He placed it on the table.
Isabella didn't look at him.
"You've been quiet."
"I'm tired."
"You've been lying."
Her eyes lifted.
"About what?"
"Everything."
He opened the file.
"Your relationship with Marcus."
Isabella looked away.
"Your access to Khloe's medical records."
Silence.
"The payments."
Nothing.
"The security contractor."
Isabella's fingers tightened.
"The attack."
She whispered:
"I already told you."
"You attacked her."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I hated her."
Harris studied her.
"That's not enough."
"It is."
"No."
He leaned forward.
"People don't usually risk prison, murder charges, and their family's reputation simply because they're jealous."
Isabella stared at him.
"You don't know me."
"I know you were threatened."
Her face changed.
The detective noticed.
"Who threatened you?"
"No one."
"Isabella."
"No one."
Harris slid a photograph across the table.
It showed her father entering a parking garage.
Then another.
Giovanni meeting a man.
Then another.
A close-up of the man's hand.
The silver ring.
Isabella closed her eyes.
"Richard."
Harris nodded.
"You know him."
She didn't answer.
"Your father knows him."
Silence.
"Your mother knew him."
Isabella's eyes opened.
Harris watched her carefully.
"Didn't she?"
Isabella whispered:
"My mother is dead."
"That's what you were told."
Her breathing stopped.
Harris leaned back.
"Wasn't it?"
Isabella stared at him.
"Who told you that?"
"Your father."
Isabella looked away.
Harris opened another folder.
Inside was an old photograph.
A young Isabella stood beside her mother.
Her mother was smiling.
Behind them stood a man.
Richard Thorne.
Isabella's hands began shaking.
"Where did you get this?"
"It was recovered from your father's private archive."
"That's impossible."
"No."
Harris pointed to the date.
"Twenty years ago."
Isabella stared.
Her mother had supposedly died eleven years ago.
But the photograph was taken nine years after her supposed death.
Someone had lied.
And suddenly, every memory Isabella had buried came back.
She was seventeen.
It was raining.
Her mother had packed one suitcase.
Isabella stood at the top of the stairs.
"Where are you going?"
Her mother stopped.
She turned.
"Somewhere safe."
"Can I come?"
"No."
"Why?"
Her mother crossed the room.
She held Isabella's face.
"Listen to me."
Her hands were cold.
"If anyone asks, I am dead."
Isabella had laughed.
"Mom."
"I'm serious."
"Why would anyone ask?"
Her mother looked toward the window.
"Because there are people who want what belongs to our family."
"What belongs to us?"
Her mother whispered:
"Something your father doesn't know about."
Then she kissed Isabella's forehead.
"Never trust a man who tells you he loves you while asking you to betray yourself."
Isabella didn't understand.
Not then.
Three days later, her mother disappeared.
Her father told everyone she had died.
Isabella believed him.
Until years later, a stranger approached her outside university.
Richard Thorne.
He knew her mother's name.
He knew secrets about her childhood.
And he told Isabella something that changed her life.
"Your mother didn't die."
Isabella had stared at him.
"Where is she?"
"Safe."
"Where?"
"That depends on you."
"What do you mean?"
Richard smiled.
"If you want to see her again, you have to become part of my plan."
The first part had been easy.
Get close to Marcus.
Be present at charity events.
Become indispensable to the Thorne family.
Learn about the trust.
Find out what Marcus knew.
But there was one thing Richard had never told her.
Khloe.
When Isabella first met Khloe, she had been surprised.
Khloe wasn't weak.
She wasn't arrogant.
She wasn't even interested in competing with her.
That made Isabella angry.
Because it was difficult to hate someone who had never hated you.
So Isabella created reasons.
Khloe was stealing Marcus.
Khloe was manipulating him.
Khloe wanted the family fortune.
Khloe didn't deserve to be his wife.
The lies became easier every time she repeated them.
Until Isabella eventually believed them herself.
At midnight, Harris returned to the interrogation room.
Isabella looked exhausted.
"I want a deal."
Harris sat down.
"Tell me what you know."
"I want protection for my father."
"That depends."
"And my mother."
Harris stopped.
"You believe she's alive?"
"I know she is."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Then how can you help us?"
"Because Richard knows."
Harris leaned forward.
"What does Richard want?"
Isabella swallowed.
"The baby."
"We know."
"No."
She shook her head.
"You don't."
Harris frowned.
"What don't we know?"
"Richard doesn't want the baby dead."
Harris waited.
"He wants the baby alive."
"Why?"
"Because the child has to sign something."
Harris stared.
"She's unborn."
"Not literally."
Isabella looked down.
"The trust contains a biometric succession clause."
Harris's expression changed.
"Meaning?"
"Once the child is born, her identity activates the trust."
"She becomes the beneficiary."
"Yes."
"And Richard wants control of the trust."
Isabella shook her head.
"That's only half of it."
"What is the other half?"
"He needs the baby to survive."
Harris frowned.
"Why?"
"Because if she dies before the succession process is completed, the trust transfers to the second beneficiary."
"Who?"
Isabella looked at him.
"Marcus."
Harris stared.
"Then why attack Khloe?"
"Because Richard doesn't want Marcus to inherit."
"Why?"
"Because Marcus can remove him."
The detective sat back.
"Then what does Richard gain by keeping the baby alive?"
Isabella's voice dropped.
"A guardian can control the trust until the child becomes an adult."
Harris understood.
"Richard wants to become guardian."
Isabella nodded.
"And he has a document proving he already has the right."
At the hospital, Marcus was standing over the security monitors.
Every camera had returned.
But the footage from the previous seven minutes was gone again.
Daniel cursed.
"Someone is inside the system."
Adrian looked at him.
"Can you trace them?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because they're not connecting remotely."
Marcus turned.
"What do you mean?"
Daniel pointed at the network map.
"The access is coming from inside the building."
"Where?"
Daniel stared.
Then slowly looked toward the private wing.
"Khloe's floor."
Marcus's face hardened.
"Search every room."
Security officers spread out.
Doors opened.
Closets checked.
Bathrooms searched.
Nothing.
Then one officer called out.
"Sir."
Marcus turned.
The officer stood outside a maintenance closet.
"There are footprints."
Marcus walked over.
Wet footprints led from the closet toward the service elevator.
The elevator doors were open.
Inside was a single object.
A hospital bracelet.
Marcus picked it up.
His face changed.
The bracelet was old.
Yellowed.
Faded.
The name was barely readable.
THORNE, RICHARD.
At 12:37 a.m., Victoria saw the bracelet.
Her face went pale.
"Where did you find this?"
"The service elevator."
She touched it.
Her fingers trembled.
"This isn't his."
Marcus frowned.
"What?"
"Richard never wore a hospital bracelet."
Adrian looked at her.
"Then whose is it?"
Victoria stared at the name.
"It's a message."
"From whom?"
She looked at Marcus.
"Your father."
Marcus shook his head.
"My father has been dead for twenty years."
Victoria whispered:
"Yes."
Then she turned the bracelet over.
On the back was a number.
3208.
Marcus looked at Adrian.
"That's the room Richard used."
Adrian nodded.
Victoria closed her eyes.
"Your father used that room too."
They returned to Room 3208.
The room was empty.
But this time, Adrian noticed something beneath the carpet.
A raised section.
He pulled it back.
A metal hatch appeared.
Marcus crouched beside him.
"Open it."
Adrian hesitated.
Then unlocked it.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
There were documents.
Photographs.
A cassette tape.
And a small red notebook.
Victoria immediately recognized it.
"That's mine."
Marcus looked at her.
"Why would your notebook be here?"
"I don't know."
She picked it up.
The first pages were blank.
Then she turned to the middle.
A date.
October 17, 2003.
The night of the accident.
Below it, handwriting.
Richard survived. Edward survived. Victoria survived.
Marcus stared.
"Edward?"
His father's name.
Victoria continued reading.
Her voice trembled.
But only one of them knows what happened during the missing seven minutes.
She turned the page.
The next sentence was written in red ink.
The child will inherit everything.
Marcus frowned.
"What child?"
Victoria's face went pale.
"The child I was pregnant with."
Marcus stopped breathing.
"What?"
Victoria looked at him.
"I was pregnant when your father died."
Silence.
Marcus stared.
"You had another child?"
"No."
Victoria shook her head.
"I lost the baby."
Adrian looked at her.
"That's impossible."
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
"I was told the baby died."
Marcus stepped closer.
"Who told you?"
Victoria whispered:
"Edward."
Khloe was listening from the doorway.
She had quietly left her room.
Marcus turned.
"Khloe."
She looked at Victoria.
"How many children did your father have?"
Victoria hesitated.
"One."
Marcus frowned.
"Me."
Victoria nodded.
"Yes."
Khloe looked at the notebook.
"Then why does the trust mention another child?"
Victoria looked at her.
"I don't know."
Khloe's expression changed.
"Maybe the baby wasn't yours."
Nobody spoke.
Adrian slowly turned toward her.
"What are you suggesting?"
Khloe looked at the photograph inside the compartment.
It showed Victoria.
Edward.
And a newborn baby.
The photograph had been taken twenty-three years ago.
On the back was written:
Our daughter.
Marcus stared.
"That's not me."
Victoria's hands began shaking.
"No."
She turned the photograph over.
The handwriting beneath the first words continued.
If anything happens to us, protect her from the Rossi family.
Isabella's surname.
Marcus looked at Khloe.
"Why would my parents need to protect a child from the Rossis?"
Victoria whispered:
"Because the child was theirs."
At 1:15 a.m., Isabella was taken into protective custody.
She was placed in an armored vehicle.
The detective sat beside her.
"You're safe."
Isabella stared through the window.
"No."
"What?"
"I'm not."
"Why?"
She looked at the hospital disappearing behind them.
"Because Richard knows where I'm going."
The detective frowned.
"How?"
Isabella looked at him.
"He always knows."
The vehicle stopped at a red light.
The driver checked the mirror.
"Detective?"
"What?"
"There's a black sedan behind us."
Harris looked back.
The sedan was there.
Two cars behind.
The light turned green.
The sedan followed.
Harris reached for his radio.
"Take the next turn."
The driver did.
The sedan followed.
Harris looked at Isabella.
"Do you recognize it?"
She shook her head.
Then her face changed.
"Yes."
"What?"
"That's my father's car."
The sedan suddenly accelerated.
It slammed into the rear of the police vehicle.
The armored car swerved.
Isabella screamed.
Harris grabbed the door.
The driver fought to regain control.
Another impact.
The sedan disappeared down a side street.
The police vehicle stopped.
Harris looked at Isabella.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head.
Then she began laughing.
Harris stared.
"What's funny?"
Isabella looked at him.
"My father just tried to kill me."
Back at the hospital, Marcus opened the final document from the hidden compartment.
It was a succession agreement.
At the bottom were three signatures.
Edward Thorne.
Victoria Thorne.
And—
a third name.
Giovanni Rossi.
Marcus's blood ran cold.
"The Rossis were involved from the beginning."
Victoria shook her head.
"No."
"His signature is here."
"He didn't sign it."
Marcus looked at her.
"How do you know?"
"Because Giovanni wasn't the Rossi who mattered."
She pointed to another line.
Beside Giovanni's name was a handwritten note.
Approved by the mother.
Marcus frowned.
"Who was the mother?"
Victoria looked at him.
"Isabella's mother."
Khloe whispered:
"She was alive."
Victoria nodded.
"She wasn't just alive."
She looked at the photograph of the newborn child.
"She was the woman who created the entire plan."
At 2:03 a.m., Isabella's phone rang.
It was the stolen phone.
She stared at the screen.
Unknown number.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice spoke.
Soft.
Familiar.
"Isabella."
Her blood froze.
"Mom?"
Silence.
Then:
"You were always too emotional."
Isabella began crying.
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere you can't reach."
"Why did you leave me?"
"Because I had to."
"You lied to me."
"No."
Her mother's voice became colder.
"I protected you."
"From what?"
"From becoming like me."
Isabella shook.
"You made me attack Khloe."
"No."
"You used Richard."
"No."
"Then who did?"
A pause.
"Khloe."
Isabella froze.
"What?"
Her mother continued:
"She knows more than you think."
"She doesn't know anything."
"That's where you're wrong."
"Why?"
"Because Khloe has something that belongs to me."
Isabella whispered:
"What?"
Her mother answered:
"My daughter."
The call ended.
Isabella stared at the phone.
She slowly looked at the detective.
"She knows."
"Who?"
"My mother."
"Knows what?"
Isabella's voice trembled.
"She says Khloe is carrying her daughter."
At 2:21 a.m., Khloe sat alone.
Her hand rested over her stomach.
The baby moved again.
A gentle kick.
Then another.
She smiled through her tears.
"You're okay."
Marcus entered.
He looked exhausted.
Khloe immediately knew something was wrong.
"What happened?"
Marcus sat beside her.
"We found another secret."
She waited.
"The trust may not belong to my family."
Khloe frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"My father signed something twenty-three years ago."
"What?"
Marcus looked at her.
"A document saying the unborn heir would belong to someone else."
Khloe's stomach tightened.
"Who?"
Marcus whispered:
"Isabella's mother."
Khloe stared.
"Why would your father give her your child?"
"We don't know."
Khloe looked down.
The baby kicked.
She placed both hands over her stomach.
Then she whispered:
"Maybe she isn't trying to take our daughter."
Marcus frowned.
"Then what?"
Khloe looked up.
"Maybe she's trying to take me."
Marcus stared.
Before he could answer, the hospital monitor beside the bed suddenly turned on.
A message appeared.
ISABELLA WAS NEVER THE ENEMY.
Marcus froze.
Another line appeared.
SHE WAS THE CHILD.
Khloe's eyes widened.
Then the final message appeared.
AND HER MOTHER IS COMING FOR HER.
The screen went black.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then the hospital doors opened.
A woman in a black coat walked slowly down the corridor.
She stopped beneath the emergency lights.
She looked directly at the security camera.
And smiled.
Isabella's mother had finally returned.
And she wasn't coming for Marcus.
She wasn't coming for the trust.
She wasn't even coming for Khloe.
She was coming for the daughter she had abandoned twenty years ago.
May you like
Isabella Rossi.
And she was prepared to destroy anyone standing between them.
