Chapter 8 – The Note and the Flowers

The air outside the café was lighter than the suffocation Isabella had felt inside, but each step still felt heavy. Her legs trembled, her breath shallow, and no matter how hard she tried to calm herself, her heart kept racing as if trying to escape her chest.

Alexander walked beside her in silence. Gone was the elegant smile that always accompanied him; instead, his eyes were dark, watchful, as if searching for any sign of danger in the streets.

For a few minutes, neither of them said anything. Only the sound of cars passing by and footsteps echoing on the pavement filled the void. Isabella felt like she needed to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come.

It was Alexander who broke the silence.

"I'm so sorry for what happened," he said, his voice low but firm. "You didn't deserve to go through this."

Isabella bit her lower lip, trying to process everything. The scene still replayed in her mind like a nightmare: Dante suddenly appearing, the provocation, the tension nearly exploding into violence.

"You two... you really know each other, don't you?" she asked finally, turning to face Alexander. "The way you looked at each other... there seemed to be something more there."

He looked away for a moment, as if organizing his words before answering.

"We've crossed paths before." His voice carried a different weight now, deeper. "Dante isn't trustworthy, Isabella. Everything he does is manipulation. He gets close to destabilize, to control... to play with people."

She frowned, confused.

"Then why did he mention that night? What happened between you?"

Alexander took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them again, there was a cold determination in his gaze.

"It doesn't matter." He shook his head. "What matters is that you don't let him get close. Promise me you'll keep your distance."

Isabella hesitated. The intensity of his request made her stomach knot. As much as she wanted to believe Alexander, there was something about Dante... something that simultaneously attracted and frightened her.

"I... I don't know what to think," she confessed, her voice breaking. "It all happened so fast..."

Alexander slowed his pace, lightly touching her arm to stop her. His eyes met hers, filled with a mixture of firmness and tenderness.

"I know you're confused. But listen to me, Isabella." His hand slid down to hold hers. "You can trust me. I would never let anything bad happen to you."

His protective, reassuring tone warmed something inside her. For the first time since they left the café, Isabella could breathe a little easier.

"I just want all of this to be over," she said softly.

Alexander nodded.

"It will be over. I promise."

And so, in silence, the walk continued to Isabella's house.

The neighborhood was quiet, with a few lights on in the windows and the distant sound of a television coming from somewhere. When they reached the building's door, Alexander offered to take them up.

"Let me at least make sure you're safe inside," he said seriously.

She hesitated, but eventually agreed. After all, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to have someone by her side, even if only for a few minutes.

In the elevator, the atmosphere returned to silence. Isabella found herself staring at Alexander, at his impeccable posture, at the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world without ever losing control. It was comforting, but at the same time... unsettling.

She wanted to believe he was as perfect as he seemed, but Dante's words echoed inside her like a shadow: "The perfect man you think you know... doesn't exist."

When the elevator door opened, Isabella took a deep breath and walked to her door.

"Thank you for coming with me," she said, trying to sound calmer than she actually was.

Alexander forced a small smile.

"Whenever you need me, I'll be here."

She opened the door and turned on the light. The apartment looked the same as always: simple, cozy, quiet. But something was different. Isabella noticed immediately.

On the bed, carefully positioned, were a bouquet of red flowers and a folded note on the pillow.

Her stomach churned.

"But… how?" she murmured, entering slowly.

Alexander walked in behind her, his gaze intent. When he saw the flowers, his expression darkened with a mixture of worry and anger.

"Don't touch anything yet," he said, approaching. He carefully picked up the note and handed it to her. "Read it."

Isabella took a deep breath, her hands trembling. The scent of the flowers filled the room, intense, almost suffocating. With hesitant fingers, she opened the note.

The handwriting was firm, somber, almost aggressive:

"To the woman who doesn't know her worth.

The world around you lies to you, but I don't.

One day you will understand that I am the only one who sees who you truly are.

Until then… accept these flowers as a reminder.

Not of what you have, but of what you can still have."

There was no signature, but Isabella didn't need one. The tone, the words… everything screamed his name.

"Dante…" she whispered, feeling a shiver run down her skin.

Alexander closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to contain his anger.

"He won't stop," he said, almost to himself. "He's already decided he's going to chase you."

Isabella dropped the note on the bed and backed away, hugging her arms as if to protect herself.

"How did he get in here? How did he know where I live?" Her voice was bordering on panic.

Alexander moved closer and gripped her shoulders, firm but not aggressive.

"Calm down. We'll figure this out. I'll make sure he doesn't come near you again."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"But what if he already knows everything about me? What if he's always one step ahead?"

Alexander pulled her into an unexpected hug. Strong, protective, warm.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Isabella. Trust me."

For a moment, she allowed herself to give in. She rested her face against his chest, inhaling the faint scent of his perfume, the steady sound of his breathing. It was as if the world stopped there, in that embrace.

But at the same time, the note on the bed and the red flowers burned in her mind.

And inside her, an uncomfortable truth formed: no matter how hard Alexander tried to protect her, Dante would always find a way to reach her.

The war was just beginning.