The next morning, Isabella woke before the sun rose, her mind already turning over the pieces of the puzzle.
She couldn't shake the woman's face from the screen. That smile — calm, mocking, like she already knew the outcome — haunted her.
But Isabella was done being haunted.
It was time to hunt.
By mid-afternoon, she and Alexander sat in the back of a sleek black car, cutting through the city streets like a blade.
He lounged in the seat beside her, one arm draped over the backrest, his other hand holding a tablet that flickered with security feeds and dossiers.
"You're quiet," he observed, his eyes flicking to her.
"I'm thinking," she said simply.
His lips curved faintly, though his gaze stayed sharp.
"Good. Just remember — she's not like the others. If she's sitting in your father's office, smiling into a camera she knew we'd be watching… she's already three steps ahead."
Isabella turned her head to meet his gaze evenly.
"Then I'll take four."
That earned her a low, quiet chuckle from him — the kind that sent heat curling in her chest despite herself.
"You really are something, Miss Reed," he murmured.
The car pulled to a stop outside a nondescript high-rise — the kind of place no one would look twice at.
"This is one of her known safehouses," Alexander said as they stepped out.
"She uses it to conduct private meetings when she doesn't want to be seen."
The lobby was empty save for a nervous young clerk who barely glanced at them as Alexander flashed a badge — some kind of forged authority — and led her to the elevator.
They rode in silence.
When the doors opened, the hallway beyond was dark and quiet, the air thick with the faint scent of expensive perfume.
Isabella stepped out first, her heels silent against the carpet.
Her pulse quickened, but her hands were steady as she reached for the door at the end of the hall.
It wasn't locked.
She glanced back at Alexander. He gave her a single, sharp nod.
And she pushed the door open.
The room was empty — but not abandoned.
On the table sat a single envelope with her name scrawled across it in looping, elegant handwriting.
Isabella moved closer, her fingers hovering over it for a moment before she picked it up and unfolded the paper inside.
Her eyes narrowed as she read the words:
"You're braver than I thought.
But bravery only gets you killed."
And beneath it, a single address.
Isabella stared at the paper, her jaw tightening.
She felt Alexander step behind her, his presence warm and heavy at her back.
"She's inviting you to play," he murmured, his breath stirring a strand of her hair.
"Good," Isabella replied, folding the note and slipping it into her coat pocket.
"I like games."
Alexander's lips quirked, though his eyes remained cold and calculating.
"I hope you like danger just as much."
They returned to the car, the city lights blurring past the windows as Isabella memorized the address over and over in her mind.
When Alexander finally spoke, his voice was quiet, thoughtful.
"Do you know why she wants you to come to her? Alone?"
Isabella turned to him, her expression calm but fierce.
"Because she thinks I'll be afraid," she said.
His smirk was faint, but approving.
"And are you?"
She met his gaze and held it.
"I was. Once. But not anymore."
For the first time, his smile softened — just slightly.
And then his phone buzzed.
He glanced at it, and something sharp flickered through his eyes.
"What?" she asked, already reading his change in expression.
His jaw tightened as he handed her the phone.
On the screen was a photo of Emilia — her sister — standing outside the same address written on the note.
Waiting.
Isabella's breath hitched, but she forced a slow, steady smile.
"Perfect," she murmured.
"Two birds. One stone."