Chapter 122: Dimitri Wants To Speak With You

POV: ISABELLA

Isabella woke to pounding on the suite door.

Her heart immediately kicked into overdrive, her body going rigid with fear.

This was it.

They’d come for her.

Catarina was already moving, looking through the peephole, her face going pale.

"Marco," she whispered. "And six men."

Isabella’s hands started shaking. She forced them still.

Get yourself together. You practiced this. You know your story. You CAN do this.

"Isabella." Marco’s voice came through the door, calm and professional. "Open the door. Now."

Isabella stood, smoothed her clothes, simple black dress, minimal makeup, her hair pulled back.

She’d dressed carefully and Intentionally.

Looking like a woman who had nothing to hide.

Looking like a woman who’d been falsely accused.

She opened the door.

Marco stood there, his face unreadable, six of his men flanking him.

"Marco." Her voice was steady, polite. "Can I help you?"

"You’re coming with me." Marco’s eyes swept over her, assessing. "Dimitri wants to speak with you."

"About what?"

"You know what." His voice was hard. "Now. You can come willingly, or my men can carry you. Your choice."

Isabella lifted her chin. "I’ll come willingly. I have nothing to hide."

She grabbed her coat, her phone.

Catarina started to follow.

"Not you," Marco said. "Just Isabella."

Catarina met Isabella’s eyes. A silent message passed between them.

Hold to the story. Don’t break.

Isabella nodded slightly, turned to Marco. "I’m ready."

The drive was silent.

Isabella sat in the back of the SUV, two of Marco’s men on either side of her, watching her like she might bolt.

She kept her face neutral. Calm.

Inside, her heart was racing so fast she thought it might explode.

Enzo’s words echoed in her mind.

If you so much as shake or make a mistake when Dimitri interrogates you, you are dead.

So she couldn’t shake.

Couldn’t make mistakes.

Had to believe her own story so completely that even she thought it was true.

The SUV pulled up to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city.....industrial, isolated, the kind of place where screams wouldn’t be heard.

Isabella’s stomach dropped.

But she forced her face to stay calm.

You can do this. You HAVE to do this.

Marco led her inside, through a maze of corridors, into a large open space.

Concrete floors. Metal beams. A single chair in the center, bolted to the floor.

And standing near the far wall, reviewing something on his phone...

Dimitri.

He looked up as they entered.

And the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees.

Isabella had seen Dimitri angry before. Had seen him cold. Had seen him dangerous.

But this...

This was different.

This was the Devil.

Absolutely lethal. Completely controlled. Terrifying in his calm.

"Sit," Marco said, gesturing to the chair.

Isabella moved forward, her legs shaking slightly.

Stop. Don’t show fear. Confident. You’re confident.

She sat, kept her spine straight, her hands folded in her lap.

Dimitri approached slowly, each step deliberate.

He stopped about five feet away, his silver-gray eyes locked on hers.

"Isabella." His voice was soft. Deadly. "Do you know why you’re here?"

"No." Her voice didn’t shake. Good. "Marco said you wanted to speak with me, but he didn’t say why."

"Eve was drugged at the Castellano Gala few hours ago. Do you know anything about that?"

"I heard. It’s terrible." Isabella met his eyes. "But I don’t know what that has to do with me."

"Don’t you?" Dimitri moved closer. "You were at the gala. You were sitting at Table 47. And the waiter who dosed Eve’s drink was seen speaking to a woman near that table. A woman in a silver dress. With dark hair."

Isabella’s heart hammered. But she kept her expression confused, concerned.

"There were hundreds of people at that gala, Dimitri. Dozens of women in silver dresses with dark hair. I’m sure...."

"The waiter is dead." Dimitri’s voice cut through her words like a knife. "Poisoned. Someone killed him to keep him quiet. Someone who knew he was a witness."

Isabella’s face paled...she couldn’t help it.

But she recovered quickly. "That’s horrible. But I still don’t understand why you think I’m involved."

"Because you disappeared from the building right after Eve collapsed. During a lockdown. When no one was supposed to leave." Dimitri crouched in front of her chair, brought himself to eye level. "So tell me, Isabella. How did you manage to escape a locked-down building?"

This was it.

The moment Enzo had prepared her for.

Isabella took a breath, met Dimitri’s eyes.

"I didn’t escape anything. I left before Eve collapsed."

"The timeline doesn’t support that."

"Then your timeline is wrong." Her voice was steady. Certain. "I left the gala at approximately 9:30. I wasn’t feeling well....stress, anxiety. Catarina helped me to the car. We went back to my hotel. I was already in my suite when I heard about what happened to Eve."

"You expect me to believe you left a major charity gala early because of stress?"

"I expect you to believe the truth." Isabella kept her voice calm, reasonable. "I’ve been under enormous pressure lately. Your threats. Your father’s negotiations. The dissolution of our engagement. It’s been... difficult. I’ve been taking medication to help manage the anxiety."

Dimitri’s eyes narrowed. "What medication?"

"That’s private. Medical information."

"Nothing is private when Eve’s life is at stake." His voice turned hard. "What. Medication."

Isabella hesitated, as if embarrassed. "It’s for panic attacks. I’ve been taking it for years. My doctor prescribed it. But I... I didn’t want anyone to know. It felt like weakness."

"Convenient."

"It’s the truth." She met his eyes, held them. "Check with my doctor if you don’t believe me. Dr. Armani in Rome. He’s been treating me since I was nineteen."

She could see Dimitri processing, calculating.

The story was clean. Simple. Verifiable.

Enzo had made sure of that.

"And how did you leave the building during a lockdown?" Dimitri asked.

"I told you. I left before the lockdown. Before Eve collapsed."

"Marco’s men say they had eyes on your table during the incident. They say you were there when it happened."

"Then Marco’s men are mistaken." Isabella’s voice remained calm. "I’m sorry, Dimitri. I know you’re looking for someone to blame. Someone to punish for what happened to Eve. But it wasn’t me. I wasn’t even there when it happened."