The Ultimate Betrayal
Isabella stood in front of her vanity, adjusting the delicate diamond necklace Dante had gifted her on their last anniversary. Tonight was special—Dante had promised her an evening to themselves, away from the weight of his work and the suffocating responsibilities of the mafia empire. She had dressed carefully, her crimson gown clinging to her curves, her hair swept into a loose chignon. Nico was safely in the care of the nanny, and for the first time in months, she felt excitement flutter in her chest.
Dante had always been her anchor, her protector. She couldn’t shake the unease she’d been feeling recently—odd moments where he seemed distracted, whispers in the hallways that ceased when she entered, and then there was the earring. A glint of gold she had found in his office, unmistakably feminine, yet not hers.
“Probably a maid’s,” she had told herself, brushing away the thought.
She didn’t have time for doubts. She trusted Dante, loved him more than anything. As she stepped into the dining room, her breath caught. Dante had outdone himself.
The room was illuminated by dozens of candles, their golden glow casting flickering shadows across the walls. A table was set for two, adorned with fresh roses and fine crystal. Dante stood by the window, his tailored suit emphasizing the sharp angles of his frame. When he turned to her, his eyes softened, and a slow smile spread across his face.
“You’re stunning, Bella,” he said, crossing the room to take her hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, his lips lingering.
Her cheeks flushed. “This is beautiful, Dante. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“For you? It’s never trouble,” he said, pulling out her chair.
She sat, her heart swelling with love as he poured her a glass of wine. For a moment, the nagging doubts in her mind faded. This was the man she had given her life to, the father of her son.
They ate in companionable silence at first, Dante occasionally brushing his fingers against hers, his gaze lingering on her face as if memorizing every detail. But as the night wore on, she noticed his focus slipping. He would glance toward the doorway, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
“Everything alright?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
“Of course,” he said smoothly, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “I just want this night to be perfect for you.”
She smiled softly. “It already is, Dante. I don’t need anything else but you.”
Unbeknownst to Isabella, Sofia stood in the shadows just beyond the doorway, her emerald-green dress blending into the dimly lit hallway. She watched the scene unfold with a predatory gleam in her eyes. This was the final act of the game they had been playing for months, and she savored every moment of it.
Dante rose from his seat, retrieving a bottle of wine from the sideboard. Isabella watched him, her heart swelling with gratitude. Whatever doubts she had felt before were ridiculous. This was her Dante, her husband, who loved her unconditionally.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said as he poured the wine into her glass.
“Oh?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
“You’ll see,” he said, raising his glass to hers. “To us. To forever.”
“To forever,” she echoed, her eyes shining. She took a sip of the wine, savoring the rich flavor.
But then, something changed. A strange bitterness lingered on her tongue, and her vision blurred slightly. She shook her head, trying to clear the sudden fog clouding her thoughts.
“Dante?” she said, her voice wavering.
He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable as he watched her.
Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Panic seized her as her hand flew to her throat. “Dante—something’s wrong,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.
He stepped closer, but there was no alarm in his eyes, no urgency in his movements. Instead, he crouched before her, his expression cold, detached.
“Shh, Bella,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Her mind reeled, struggling to make sense of his words. “What… what are you saying?” she rasped, her strength waning.
Before he could answer, another figure stepped into the room. Sofia.
Isabella’s eyes widened in horror as her sister approached, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Surprised to see me, dear sister?” Sofia asked, her tone dripping with mockery.
“No… no,” Isabella whispered, tears streaming down her face as the pieces clicked into place. The earring. The whispers. The distance.
“Why?” she managed to choke out, her voice breaking.
Sofia knelt beside her, a cruel smile curving her lips. “Because he was always mine, Bella. From the moment I saw him, he was mine. You were just… in the way.”
Isabella’s heart shattered into a million pieces. The betrayal was too much, too overwhelming. Her husband. Her sister. The two people she had trusted most.
Dante rose, stepping back as Sofia leaned in closer. “Don’t worry,” Sofia whispered, her voice low and venomous. “We’ll take good care of Nico.”
That was the last thing Isabella heard before her vision darkened completely. Her body collapsed onto the floor, her fingers clutching at the hem of her gown as she took her final, shuddering breath.
Sofia straightened, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. She turned to Dante, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
“Well,” she said, her tone light, almost cheerful. “That was easier than I thought.”
Dante’s face remained unreadable as he glanced down at Isabella’s lifeless body. “Let’s get this over with,” he said coldly, striding toward the door.
