(Isla's Pov)
Stefano's scream still echoed in my head as security dragged him out of the ballroom. His shaking hand pointing straight at me. His voice cracking with fear.
"The little Torres girl! They told me you were dead!"
The moment he was gone, the room fell silent. Too silent. Like everyone forgot how to breathe. Dozens of eyes followed me, curious, scared, confused. The name Torres spread across the room like smoke from a fire.
My real last name.
The one I had buried my whole life.
My chest tightened. I felt naked. Exposed. Like someone had ripped off my skin in front of the world.
"Isla!"
I turned just in time to see my adoptive father, Antonio Moretti, pushing through the crowd. His face wasn't angry. It was broken. He looked like someone who had seen a ghost climb out of the grave.
He grabbed my arm gently, almost shaking. "You need to come with me. Now."
"Dadwhat's going on? Why did he call me"
"Not here," he said sharply, voice shaking. "Go to your room. Lock the door. Do not talk to anyone. I'll come explain everything."
"But"
"No arguments." His voice cracked. "Please, Isla. Just go."
People whispered as I walked away. I didn't look at them. I kept my eyes down and forced my legs to move.
Torres.
Torres.
Torres.
Each whisper felt like a slap.
I felt like a little girl again, scared and lost, holding onto a name I didn't understand.
---
When I reached my room, I closed the door and leaned against it, trying to breathe. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. My heart felt too loud.
Stefano's voice wouldn't leave my head.
They told me you were dead.
Who else did they lie about?
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to hold myself together. Everything felt like it was spinning too fast. Like the ground was about to break under me.
A soft sound slid under the door.
Scrrrrk.
I jumped.
A folded note appeared on the floor.
My stomach flipped. I bent down slowly, afraid to touch it. Afraid not to.
I opened it with shaking fingers.
Your parents didn't die in a car accident.
Ask Antonio about the warehouse fire.
Ask him why he saved you
but let them burn.
A Friend
I didn't breathe.
The room felt smaller. Hotter. Like the walls were closing in. I read the note again, but the words didn't change. They stabbed straight into my chest.
Warehouse fire.
Saved me.
Let them burn.
I felt sick.
My legs almost gave out.
My throat tightened until it hurt.
"No… no, this isn't real…" I whispered, hugging my arms around myself.
But it felt real.
Stefano's panic.
Antonio's fear.
Luciano's warnings.
Gianna's strange behavior.
The blood on the carpet.
The cameras.
The secrets.
And now this.
My whole life suddenly looked like a story someone else wrotefull of holes and missing pieces and lies taped over the truth.
A tear fell before I could stop it.
"What did you do, Dad…?" I whispered. "What are you hiding from me?"
I sank onto the bed, the note still shaking in my hand. I didn't want to believe any of it. But deep down… a small part of me had always felt like something wasn't right about the car accident story.
Why had I survived?
Why only me?
Why did Antonio avoid talking about my parents?
My heart cracked like thin glass.
I felt so small. So alone.
But it wasn't over.
Not even close.
Outside my door, footsteps rushed pastfast, heavy, panicked. A woman yelled something. A man cursed loudly. Something slammed into a wall.
The sounds made the hairs on my arms rise.
Something was happening in the mansion. Something bigger than a drunk man shouting my name.
I stood slowly, gripping the note like it was the only thing keeping me upright. Fear crawled up my spine, cold and sharp.
Another sound outside.
A muttered voice. Deep. Urgent.
"…she's in there… hurry…"
My heart froze.
Who was that?
I stepped back from the door. My breath quickened. My fingers tingled. My body felt like it wanted to run, scream, or both.
The handle twitched.
Once.
Twice.
Slow. Careful.
My entire chest tightened.
Someone was trying to open it.
"No," I whispered. "Please… no…"
I reached for my phone, but my hands were too shaky to unlock it. The handle jerked harder.
Then
BANG!
The door burst open so fast I stumbled back, ready to scream
But the scream caught in my throat.
Because it wasn't a stranger.
It was Luciano.
His chest rose and fell fast, like he'd been running through fire. His eyes were sharper than knives. And in his hand
A gun.
A real one.
Not hidden. Not tucked away.
Held out. Ready.
He stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him.
"We don't have time," he said, voice low and deadly. "You need to leave. Now."
My knees trembled. "Luciano… what's happening? Why do you have a"
"They're coming for you," he said. "Right now."
My breath caught. "Who?"
He moved closer, gripping my arm not hard, but firm enough to tell me he wasn't letting go.
"Men who don't knock," he said. "Men who won't think twice about hurting you."
"Why?" I whispered. "Why me?"
His jaw clenched like he didn't want to say it.
"Because of your real last name," he said. "Torres."
The world tilted.
But he wasn't done.
"And because your parents didn't die the way you think."
My heart stopped.
"What do you mean?" I demanded, voice cracking.
"I'll explain later," he said. "If we survive the next five minutes."
He leaned toward the window.
Then the hallway outside exploded with noise.
Footsteps.
Shouting.
Something being dragged.
Something heavy hitting the floor.
A man yelled, "The girl is in the left room! Break it down!"
My blood turned to ice.
Luciano grabbed my shoulders. "Look at me."
I did. My eyes were wet. His were full of danger.
"You're not safe here anymore," he said. "And if they get through that door, it's over."
A loud bang hit the hallway wall.
I jumped.
Luciano stepped in front of me, raising the gun.
He didn't look scared.
He looked like the storm everyone else should fear.
"Luciano…" My voice shook. "What do we do?"
He glanced back at me, eyes fierce.
"We run."
Another crash.
Closer.
Stronger.
The hallway shook.
"They're breaking the last door," he said. "It's now or never."
I grabbed his arm. "ButAntoniohe said"
"Antonio can't protect you from this," Luciano said. "And you shouldn't trust a man who lies about fires."
My breath froze.
He knew.
He knew about the fire.
Before I could speak, a huge slam hit the wall outside. Wood cracked. A voice growled:
"Grab the girl!"
I gasped.
Luciano pulled me behind him, gun raised.
"Stay behind me, Isla," he said. "Don't move."
The door shook.
Then shook again.
Then
BAM!
The frame splintered.
The lock broke.
My heartbeat felt like it tore my chest open.
Luciano steadied his gun with both hands.
His voice dropped to a whisper that chilled my blood.
"No matter what happens… don't scream."
The door burst open.
Figures rushed in.
Masks.
Gloves.
Hard eyes.
One pointed at me.
"There! Take her!"
Luciano fired.
The room exploded into noise.
My ears rang.
My vision blurred.
My legs wobbled.
"Run!" Luciano shouted.
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward the window
But another masked man blocked the exit.
Luciano shoved me behind him and swung the gun again.
But before he could shoot
A cold, unfamiliar voice filled the room:
"Don't worry, Miss Torres…"
The man stepped forward.
His smile was wrong.
"We'll take good care of you."
And his hand reached for the door handle