Isabella POV The bouncer did not looked at me, without saying anything.
He moved the rope aside and allowed me inside without saying a word.
Maybe it was because of my ruined mascara.
I looked like someone who had just watched her world fall apart.
Whatever his reason, he simply allowed me to enter.
The moment I stepped inside the club, music was so loud, and people were dancing.
The club was not really dark, just different colored flashing lights.
The air smelled of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and expensive perfumes.
I stopped; the club looked lively.
Some people sat at the bar.
Others danced.
Some laughed around small tables.
Everyone seemed to belong somewhere.
Everyone looked like they had someone beside them, so I held myself together.
I spotted the bar and a young man with a tattooed arm and no shirt, definitely showing off.
He definitely dressed as if he belonged here.
So I slowly walked to the bar and demanded a drink.
He looked at me carefully, taking in my messy appearance, then he looked away.
I appreciated that, so save me some face.
I sat on a stool.
“Something strong,” I said.
My voice sounded rough.
He nodded and grabbed a bottle, poured a drink into a glass and pushed it toward me.
I looked at it.
I had never had any alcohol or gone to a club before.
Matteo hated it, but he drinks and frequents the clubs too.
“It’s not ladylike,” he always said whenever I wanted to try it, or someone offered it to me.
“Have juice instead, Isabella.” And I always listened.
I never stopped to wonder why I never questioned him.
I looked at the contents of the glass and picked it up.
The drink burned the moment it touched my throat, down to my chest.
My eyes watered instantly.
I pressed my lips together and waited.
After a while, the burning eased.
I lowered the glass and looked at my hand.
The engagement ring sparkled under the light.
A perfect diamond that I purchased with my money; according to him, he will take care of the wedding bills.
Matteo had proposed to me at our last dinner date together.
My stomach twisted painfully.
I slowly removed the ring and threw it on the floor.
Picked up my drink.
I just wanted to stop looking at it and breathe without his rules.
The bartender quietly filled my glass again.
I sat there, trying to take in the club’s noise.
For the first time since everything happened, tears refused to drop.
I guess it’s tired of the situation.
What remained was something worse.
My thoughts went back to my grandma’s words.
She would always say, “I warned you.” But sometimes her silence said it for her.
The first day she met Matteo, she became distant and kept repeating, “Be careful, Isabella.” But I would just smile and tell her she was wrong.
Now her words echoed inside my head.
I picked up my second drink and finished it much faster than the first.
The warmth spread through my body.
The music sounded softer.
I looked at the dance floor, and wished to dance freely like them.
I was still thinking about ordering another drink when everything changed.
I felt like the atmosphere shifted.
Like someone important had entered the room.
The music changed, and conversation became quiet.
People suddenly seemed more aware of themselves.
I stayed facing the bar.
But I noticed.
The couple sitting two seats away noticed too.
They just composed themselves, like they would be called out if they were caught doing something.
The bartender reacted first before any other person, resulting in a spill of drink.
He quickly picked up the wipes and started cleaning the counter.
He kept his eyes fixed on the counter even when he had already cleaned it.
His jaw tightened, and he was sweating.
Then he looked at me and whispered closely, “Don’t look.” I frowned.
“What?” “Don’t…” He glanced up briefly before looking down again.
“Don’t look at him.” I felt that strange shift in the room once again.
Heavy footsteps passed somewhere behind me, and everywhere suddenly became lively.
”Who?” I asked quietly while turning back to see who passed.
The bartender pressed his lips together.
He waited until their footsteps faded.
Then he whispered, “That’s Lorenzo Moretti.” I wasn’t a stranger to the name Moretti, but I didn’t know who Lorenzo was.
The Moretti charity event was where I met the cheater.
The fear in his voice and the way he reacted had already told me what I needed to know about how dangerous the mysterious Lorenzo would be.
A few seconds later, he walked to the other side of the bar and busied herself with work that did not need doing.
Moretti.
Everyone in the city fears that name.
The Moretti family are influential in the country, owning businesses and buildings.
They were powerful enough to make things happen or disappear.
They attended charity events and donated huge amounts of money.
People always praised them.
Not because they wanted to, but to be protected under their wings.
My grip loosened around the glass.
Slowly, I turned around because I wanted to see the man who commands this respect and fear.
I spotted him.
He sat alone at a private table near the far end of the room.
No one sat close to him, maybe to be able to breathe.
He wore a dark jacket with the collar open.
One hand rested beside a glass he had not touched.
He didn’t seem to be interested in what his friend was saying, just staring at nothing.
He looks like a man who would gladly stay anywhere that is not here.
He was not exactly what I expected.
I thought he would be older, bigger, or ugly, since everybody refused to look him in the eye.
But he is definitely a man who would not brag about his power or looks because you will feel it.
Power seemed to follow him naturally.
Like it was part of him.
Then suddenly, his eyes moved and landed on me.
He looked directly at me, not just a glance.
My heart stopped.
Neither of us seemed willing to break eye contact first.