His Ruthless Redemption (Isabella and Dominic) novel Chapter 199

Chapter 199.

Chapter 199

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Isabella’s POV

The past few days had been softer, warmer. Caterina had a way of doing that, of filling spaces that had felt too quiet, too heavy, with noise and life and a kind of love that didn’t ask questions. She hovered, fussed, scolded, and fed me like a proper mother hen, and for once, I didn’t mind it.

I liked it. I liked not having to carry everything alone. Niked that Mateo laughed more. I liked that for a few brief moments in the day, things felt normal.

Which was probably why the shift, when it came, felt so sharp.

I was at my desk two days later, reviewing a set of curation notes, my mind only half on the work, half still on the conversation I’d had with Caterina that morning about names-names, of all things-when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said absently.

My assistant stepped in, but something in her expression made me look up immediately. She looked uneasy as she stood

near the door.

“Ma’am, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Who?”

A pause. “Alessia Moretti.”

Everything inside me went still.

The pen slipped slightly in my fingers before I steadied it.

“She doesn’t have an appointment,” my assistant added quickly. “But she told me to tell you her name. Said you knew her.”

I almost scoffed. Oh, did I know her. But the question was, what was she doing here?

“Send her in,” I said to her anyway.

The moment the door closed behind my assistant, the room felt different, like something had already entered it before she even had.

The door opened again and Alessia walked in like she belonged, composed, elegant and completely unhurried.

Her eyes met mine immediately, and she smiled. “Isabella,” she said warmly. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“You are,” I said bluntly, my voice calm but firm.

Her smile, however, didn’t falter. “I won’t take long.”

She stepped further inside, her gaze drifting around the room, not idly but precisely, like she was cataloguing everything.

“You’ve built something beautiful here,” she said softly. “Very peaceful.”

I didn’t respond.

“What do you want?” I asked instead.

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he filteil ber head slightly, as if amused by the directness.

“Straight to the point,” she murmured. “I like that.”

I stayed silent.

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She moved closer to my desk, her fingers brushing lightly against the surface before stopping near a stack of files.

“Renaissance acquisitions,” she said casually. “A project this big must be exhausting.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I replied firmly.

Her eyes lifted to mine. A flicker of something-amusement? approval?-passed through them.

“Of course,” she said lightly.

Then, she walked closer to my desk and reached for something kept there.

My phone.

My body reacted instantly. “What are you doing?”

“I just want to see something,” she said, already turning it in her hand.

My chest tightened. I hated her touching anything that belonged to me. Hell, I hated every second of her being in the same space as me. “Put that down,” I said.

She didn’t.

Instead, she glanced at the screen, dark, locked, and then looked back at me.

“Relax,” she said softly. “I’m not going to steal it.”

Then she placed it back exactly where it had been, like nothing had happened.

But everything had.

Because now I knew. She wasn’t just here to talk. She was testing boundaries, pushing them, seeing how far she could go. And how much I would tolerate.

She stepped back then, as if giving me space again.

“You seem tense,” she observed.

“I wonder why,” I replied.

A faint smile curved her lips. Then, “Tell me something,” she said.

I didn’t answer. But she continued anyway.

“Do you ever think about how fragile this is?”

My brows drew together slightly. “What is?”

She gestured lightly around the room. “This,” she said. “Your life. Your routine. Your sense of control.”

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“It can disappear very quickly.”

Something cold settled in my chest. “Is that a threat?” I asked.

“No,” she said immediately. “It’s concern.”

A lie. A very practiced one.

Then, she reached into her bag, pulling out a small object. She placed it gently on my desk.

A keychain.

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My breath caught because I knew it instantly. It belonged to Mateo. He had bought it as a keepsake from a shop in Milan a few days back. But he had lost it while playing at the park yesterday.

What was it doing with her? Was she watching us? What the hell did this mean? Was she trying to scare me? Into doing what? And why?

My heart started pounding.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, my voice low.

Her expression didn’t change. “I found it,” she said simply.

“Where?”

A small pause. Then, “In a park.”

The room spun for a second. The park. Where I often went with Mateo. Where Caterina had gone with us yesterday too.

My fingers curled into fists. “You followed us there?” I asked.

“Of course not,” she said smoothly. “I told you, I found it lying around.”

Liar.

Every instinct in my body screamed it. But I had no proof. Nothing I could hold onto. Nothing I could throw back at her. Just that quiet, creeping fear curling through my chest.

She watched me for a moment, carefully. Then said softly, “You should be more careful.”

The words landed heavier than anything else she had said so far.

Before I could respond, the door opened.

“Isa-”

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