Isabella sat crosslegged on the padded seat by the dresser, in the guestroom she had converted into her space. She had stopped sleeping in María's room because she needed some space but she couldn't go back to her quiet condo because it would be just that — too quiet. She would drown in her thoughts and overthink everything to the point of unraveling. This was her safe haven. For now.
The past few days hadn't felt like the year-long sabbatical she was supposed to be on after years of breaking herself under her father's rule — this was supposed to be her first real break. She had joined Montez Corporation straight after graduation at twenty-one — no breaks, no holidays, no sick days. She had worked for three unbroken years under her father's thumb before the collapse came. Then the sabbatical: six months of silence, of trying to piece herself back together. Trying to find herself.
*Three years and a few months. Now I have no idea who I am. Who is the real me? The girl in college? Or the bitch tryin' to prove something to her dad? To the world?*
She stared at the box on the dresser in front of her, her hands clenched on either side of it. She hadn't touched that box in years. It's been six years since she met the person that had sent the notes inside it. Almost four years since the last note, like whoever left them just…stopped caring.
*It's been forever since I read them. Should I? Would it make me feel better or worse?*
Opening it felt like she would be going back to being the girl that had received them. She remembered most of them without needing to read a word. That wasn't the point. She was sure one of those notes had said something like what Harry did. She just needed to know if her mind was lying — or not.
Just as she placed a hand over the lid of the box, a light knock on her door drew her attention to it. Her hand stayed on the box as the door opened and Maria's face appeared behind it. María grinned when their eyes met.
"Hey, stranger," she called, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. "I was worried I would wake you up."
Isabella shook her head. "I wasn't asleep."
María sat on the edge of the bed and her eyes went to the box. She raised an eyebrow. "Wait— is that the box? The one with the notes?"
Isabella sighed and nodded. María's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. That's...you kept them?"
Isabella straightened out her legs and leaned her head back on the chair. "Obviously."
María came to stand by the dresser. She made no attempt to touch or open the box. Isabella didn't let her anywhere near it then. She was sure the sentiment hadn't changed considering that she kept them all these years. "Um. Didn't you say he stopped sending them?"
Isabella nodded.
"Have you received another one since?" She leaned in curiously. "You got so buried in work, we stopped talking about things like this."
Isabella gave a small shrug and quietly pushed the box aside. She didn't owe María that part of herself. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"Thank God I'm on leave now." She turned to María and winked. "So let's talk about your *little stuff* then: You and Xander, huh?" She wriggled her eyebrows.
María turned a shade darker. She nudged Isabella's shoulder and went back to the bed. "So, I guess you've finally remembered I exist? Two whole days of damage control and you're suddenly allergic to sister time?"
Isabella's eyes flickered and she sighed. "Tell me about it: being in your *brother's* company would drain even the strongest of warriors."
María giggled. "Still don't like him?"
Isabella made a face and María bellowed with laughter, falling back into the bed. Isabella chuckled. "He was always at loggerheads with Guapo. By God, he wants everything done his way! Once, he glared so heatedly at him, I was afraid the old man would go up in flames."
María rolled onto her stomach, still laughing. "That sounds like Harry," she agreed in-between spurts of laughter. "You know, I thought you two would be the ones burning the house down but you *surprisingly* didn't."
*She noticed too?*
Isabella cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. "I mostly stayed out of their way. So that doesn't count."
María gave her a look. "You guys bicker from across different floors, Isa. That definitely counts."
"Different floors? Now you are just exaggerating."
"Isa. Even Agnes knows you guys don't get along. She asked me the other day if you would prefer your food served in your room!"
Isabella leaned forward slowly. "She did?"
"Uh-oh."
Isabella covered her lips with her hands, trying to hold it in. She glanced at María, who arched a brow at her, and she burst into laughter. María followed suit.
"Oh my God. Did we traumatize her?"
"Well. At least, the last two days were a relief for her: no glares from across the table and all that."
"What a short-lived relief," Isabella pointed out.
María sobered. "So, you think everything would settle down now?"
Isabella shrugged and turned away. "We'll have to watch and see. Most times, the first impression is what people always remember."
"M-hm. Opinions are shifting though. That PR guy, what's his name again?"
"Señor Guapo?"
"Yes! Him. God, that metaphor—a camera flash? He really said that out loud?"
Isabella paused.
"Qué?" María asked when Isabella gave her a *you just didn't* look.
Isabella stood and grabbed her, dragging her towards the door. María tried to resist, laughing. "Why are you throwing me out?!"
"You're beginning to sound a lot like your brother and I don't like it."
María laughed and placed her hands on either side of the door, pushing back against Isabella. "I won't say anything anymore!"
"No!" Isabella insisted and then she slowly loosened her grip. "Also, I'm going to *the villa*."
María stopped. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"He called?"
Isabella shook her head. "His secretary texted me. Apparently, the entire family will be there."
María crossed her arms. "That...that doesn't sound good?"
Isabella sighed. "I don't know. I'm definitely not looking forward to it."
"You need to be alone?"
Isabella sighed and then she nodded, raising apologetic eyes to María. "I'm sorry. I'm such a bad friend, aren't I?"
María shook her head. "You're just handling a lot at the moment and I understand that." She wrapped her arms around Isabella. "I'll be here if you need me, okay?"
Isabella nodded and pressed a kiss to María's cheek as she pulled away. "Buna nit."
She waited until María's footsteps faded before turning back to the box. Her fingers hovered over the lid — but this time, she didn't touch it. Not tonight. Not while her heart still trembled at the thought of what it might confirm.
She was not ready. But she was closer than she was yesterday. With a sigh, she opened the dresser drawer and put the box back.
******
In the far end of the estate, buried in steel and silence, the air inside the business wing was colder — both in temperature and tone. The basement was cold and stripped of comfort. Concrete walls. Dim lights. A faint buzz from the overhead fixtures. One steel door at the far end — reinforced, soundproofed and locked tight. Nothing echoed here. Not even the truth.
Four men sat around a table not too far from the steel door, their back to it. The smoke from their sticks of cigarettes filled the space, leaving a pungent smell in the air. Their conversations and full belly laughter were the only noise in a space carved from silence. One of them glanced at the entrance to the basement and leaned forward, his voice low. "What do you think is going on in the private wing?"
The others stopped and looked at him. He went on. "It's been days...a week? Since anyone was allowed in there."
"What the fuck are you going on about this time, man?" Reinzi asked.
"He could be onto something, Rein. Capo was in a press conference the other day and we know he stays out of the limelight," another muttered.
Holman snapped his finger. "Bingo. The new kid said he brought a woman back from the birthday party." He quirked an eyebrow. "The *same one* that was also at the press conference."
"The *same one* that is also Señorita Maria's friend?" Reinzi interjected.
The table went silent.
Reinzi scoffed. "That's what I thought. Be careful what you say, the wall has ears."
"Does that also explain why he has not been at the casino or the club these past few days?" Holman pressed on. "We know how involved he usually is, *yet*, Xander is the one handling the shipment from Venezuela."
"Um. Xander is his right-hand man though, he can delegate..." The third guy began but the other guy nudged him.
"Shh. Capo is here."
They sprang to their feet, cigarettes tucked behind their backs. "Capo," they greeted in unison.
Harry strode towards them, his eyes razor sharp on them. He never taught his men to bow — not to him, not to anyone. A lowered head wasn't loyalty. He didn't need symbols of submission. He raised men who stood tall and bled where it mattered. Loyalty, in his world, stood eye to eye. He came to a stop at the table and stretched out a hand at Reinzi. With a chuckle, Reinzi handed him his smoke.
Harry took a deep drag, his eyes on Holman — who looked away, bringing his smoke to his lips. "Were you talking about me?" He asked, smoke filtering out as he spoke.
"No, Capo. Of course not."
"Why are you about to pee your pants then."
The men chuckled while Holman scratched the back of his head. Harry continued toward the steel door. "Your loose mouth will get you in trouble one day."
The men followed behind him, quietly teasing and nudging Holman. Harry stopped in front of the steel door and Reinzi hurried over. He pressed a few keys and the door slid open with a low hum.
"We isolated them just like you asked," Reinzi informed as Harry stepped into the room. He followed behind him. "Wade's in the next room down the hall."
Harry stood still for a moment, his back to his men, jaw tight, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His men exchanged puzzled glances. They had long since learned to read his mood and not ask questions, unnecessary ones at least.
"Did something happen that we're not aware of?" Reinzi whispered to Holman.
Holman shrugged. "Don't ask me, man. It feels like I'm on probation right now."
Reinzi snickered quietly. "You watching your mouth now?"
"You bet, Man."
For a minute back there, he had thought she'd remembered. He'd...panicked. Shut it down. But now...he wasn't sure what he wanted. At first, he'd hoped she would remember. Now, he didn't know anymore. Harry shook his head, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. His mind hadn't left the kitchen but his body needed to get back to war.
Reinzi cleared his throat. "Capo...is there anything you need?"
"No. Leave us alone," he answered, his voice cut like ice.
Reinzi gave a nod and left the cold, humid room, the steel door sliding shut as he did. Harry moved further into the dark room, stopping where he knew the table was. He reached for the switch beside it. A single bulb flared to life, flooding the room with harsh light.
Harry's eyes went to the figure at the far end, now stirring — the harsh light pulling him from sleep. He lifted his head, met Harry's eyes —and his own widened. Harry took the lone chair at the table and pulled the cigarette from his lips.
"Hola, Amigo." (Hello, my friend)