Chapter 141
Isabella stared coldly at the man in charge.
From the initial panic of being tricked onto the ship with lies, to the despair of waking up imprisoned, and now facing her kidnappers with fear and anger, in just a short time, it felt like she'd been forced into a brutal crash course on how to deal with danger and malice.
She knew she couldn't show weakness, and she couldn't act too submissive or too aggressive. She had to find a delicate balance on the tightrope of fear.
The man in charge stepped back a few paces and sat down again on an overturned wooden crate.
With his hands crossed over his knees and his body leaning slightly forward, he spoke, "Ms. Lorraine, I hope you understand our position. Vitale, your lover, has taken many of our people."
"Many who fight for a just cause are in a tough spot right now. We need them back."
He paused, his eyes scanning Isabella's face as if studying her reaction, "So, we need you. We use you to get them back. It's a fair trade, don't you think? An exchange."
His tone sounded so reasonable that if Isabella weren't tied up here but sitting in some café listening to him, she might have felt a shred of sympathy for him.
But now, she only felt disgust and wariness.
She didn't respond, just pressed her lips tightly together, trying to see the real fangs behind his hypocritical mask.
Isabella's silence clearly irritated Aldo, who was standing nearby.
He licked his cracked lips, his gaze lingering shamelessly on Isabella's figure.
He let out a hoarse laugh and said to the man in charge, "Boss, why waste so much talk on her? If we can't reach a deal or if that bastard Vitale refuses to trade..." His lecherous eyes landed on Isabella's face again, not hiding his desire, "Before we kill her, we should at least get to enjoy her once, right? I get why Vitale kept her hidden now. Damn, she's a stunner."
"Dream on!" Isabella snapped her head toward Aldo, glaring at him with fury almost bursting from her eyes.
Being insulted by someone like him with that look and those words felt more humiliating than death itself.
"Shut up, Aldo!" the man in charge barked immediately, his voice stern. But Isabella keenly noticed that his reprimand lacked real anger. It felt more like a formality.
He turned back to Isabella, his face regaining that gentle, almost pitying expression, "Ms. Lorraine, please forgive my subordinate's rudeness. They just miss their captured comrades too much and are a bit emotional." He softened his tone, leaning forward a little more, his brown eyes locking onto Isabella, "You'll help us, won't you? Help us get our brothers back, and save yourself too. Isn't that the best outcome?"
His tone was so sincere, his gaze so open, as if he genuinely just wanted a win-win deal.
If Isabella weren't tied up with ropes, if she weren't in this suffocating cell, she might almost have been fooled by him.
But she didn't back down or fall for his fake kindness. Instead, she met his gaze and asked a direct question, her voice tight with tension but clear, "Who are you people, really?"
The man in charge didn't seem surprised by her question. He leaned back against the crate and shrugged, "Us? We're a group of people who really don't like the mafia. Ms. Lorraine, you might live in the glass bubble Vitale built for you, enjoying wealth and protection, but you don't know that the mafia is like a poisonous vine wrapped around this city. It drains the blood and sweat of ordinary folks, spreading fear and death. As long as they exist, true happiness and peace will never come to people like us."
"I admire your strength, Ms. Lorraine. Really. Even in a situation like this, you haven't broken down or cried. That's rare." His tone shifted, becoming gentle and persuasive again, "So, I don't plan to hurt you. We're not savages. We just want our brothers back. You return our brothers to us, and we'll return you to Vitale, safe and sound."
He paused, pulling a few folded papers from the pocket of his work pants. He unfolded them and waved them toward Isabella, "Of course, to make Mr. Luca understand our sincerity and determination, and to ensure the deal goes smoothly, I hope you'll cooperate with us and play a small part."
"I've prepared a simple script for you. All you need to do is read it a few times in front of a camera. Make your tone a bit more helpless, a bit more scared. That way, Mr. Luca will be more anxious and more willing to cooperate. What do you say?"
Isabella looked at the papers, then at the man's seemingly sincere face.
A cold smirk formed in her mind.
These people wanted to film her looking terrified and begging, using it as further leverage against Vitale, and maybe even slipping in false information in the video to mislead him.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she stayed silent for a few seconds before slowly lifting her head, looking straight at the man in charge, and asking a sharp, direct question, "What if I don't cooperate?" Her voice was soft, but in the quiet room, it rang out clearly, "Will you really kill me?"
The question visibly caught the man off guard.
He probably hadn't expected Isabella to ask about the core threat so bluntly.
The gentle expression on his face froze for a moment before he let out a sigh, the sound feeling unusually heavy in the room, "I'm sorry to say, Ms. Lorraine, yes. If you refuse to cooperate and ruin our plans, then, I'm afraid, yes."
He paused, his gaze meaningfully sweeping over Aldo, whose eyes burned with eagerness, and another man who had been silent but whose stare was equally hostile. His tone turned subtle and cruel, "Of course, before we ultimately deal with you, I might, out of softness or inability to control the situation, agree to some small requests from my men. You see, they're quite fond of you. They'd like to get a little closer."
"I think that's only natural, don't you? After all, a beautiful woman like you tends to inspire some pleasant daydreams."
"You animal!" Isabella couldn't stand the blatant, vile threat and humiliation any longer. She spat fiercely, though due to the distance, it only landed on the filthy floor.
But her anger and contempt were crystal clear.
The man in charge looked at her furious expression and, instead of getting angry, let out a low chuckle. The sound felt eerily out of place in the cramped room.
He stood up and paced over to Isabella, looking down at her from above.
Suddenly, without warning, he reached out and, through her soft beige sweater, grabbed her tits hard.
Caught off guard, Isabella cried out in pain. Her body flinched from the humiliation and sharp agony, but tied up with ropes, she couldn't escape.
"Now this is what you call animal behavior, Ms. Lorraine," the man said as he let go, casually pulling a tissue from his pocket to wipe his fingers, as if he'd touched something dirty.
A cruel, amused smile played on his face, "Your earlier understanding was far too shallow."
Isabella trembled from the humiliation and pain, her eyes filled with deep hatred and angry tears. But she bit her lower lip hard, refusing to let a sob escape.
The man tossed the used tissue to the ground and looked down at her. His tone turned flat again, but even more dangerous, "I really don't like this disobedient side of you, Ms. Lorraine. Do you understand? It puts me in a difficult position."
"Next time, if I see you being uncooperative again, this hand of mine might not just grab—it might slap your face instead. How do you think Vitale would react if he saw my handprint on your cheek?"
Under the extreme fear and anger, a strange clarity flashed through Isabella's mind.
Looking at this hypocritical, cruel face so close to her, she suddenly curled her lips into a defiant smirk, "Go ahead and try."
"If you dare leave a mark on my face, the moment Vitale sees it, he'll lose it completely. He'll go absolutely insane, no holds barred."
"And when that happens, you won't be dealing with a mafia boss who just wants a hostage exchange. You'll be facing an enraged beast who only wants to tear everything apart."
"Do you think you can handle his madness?"
Isabella's words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly dousing the cruel amusement in the man's eyes.
His expression froze, and his body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Her words had hit the deepest fear in his heart.
They had kidnapped Isabella to trade for hostages, to achieve political or strategic goals, not to completely enrage Vitale and provoke a reckless, bloody retaliation.
They had long heard of Vitale's madness and destructive power—something they likely wanted to avoid triggering at all costs in their plan.
The man slowly straightened up and took two steps back, his brown eyes fixed on Isabella as if truly seeing her for the first time.
After a few seconds, he nodded slowly. The smile was gone from his face, replaced by a deep, calculated coldness, "You're right. I can't argue with that."
"Then let's just kill you."
"We're not afraid of his madness. We have numbers, we have conviction, organization, and preparation."
"We can handle his craziness. If you don't believe me, Ms. Lorraine, you're welcome to test us."