Chapter 171
It was Aldo.
Isabella watched with wide eyes as Aldo, with a lecherous smirk on his face, slowly approached her step by step. Her body's instinctive reaction sent chills down her spine, and her stomach churned so badly she nearly threw up.
That name, that face, and those eyes that always seemed to slither over her like a sticky tongue had become one of Isabella's inescapable nightmares.
She could never forget the memories from the previous cell—Aldo's rough groping, his filthy fingers, and the raw desire in his gaze that seemed to want to devour her whole.
If she hadn't fought back with all her strength back then, slamming her head against him and biting with her teeth, if Eva hadn't shown up to stop something even worse from happening, she didn't dare imagine the consequences.
Even now, her body still remembered the cold, greasy feeling of being forcibly touched. It was like a venomous snake slithering across her skin, leaving an invisible but bone-deep stain.
She would never let this man—or anyone other than Vitale—touch her again.
Her body and her heart belonged to Vitale alone.
In this endless darkness and humiliation, that was the one boundary Isabella held onto, the one line that could not be crossed.
Aldo seemed to relish the terror on her face. He deliberately slowed his steps, like a cat toying with a trembling mouse under its paw.
He rubbed his hands together, the faint cracking of his knuckles sounding obscene to Isabella, full of vile implications.
"Sweetheart, don't be so nervous," Aldo said, his voice rough and grating, laced with a sickening fake comfort, "I think you've got the wrong idea about me."
Isabella pressed herself against the cold wall, her hands fumbling behind her until her fingertips brushed against a rough glass cup on the table.
It was the only hard object in the room.
She grabbed it fiercely, clutching it with both hands and holding it in front of her chest. Her voice trembled with extreme tension and disgust as she shouted, "What do you want? Don't come any closer!"
Aldo stopped, spreading his hands with an exaggerated look of innocence on his face, "Misunderstanding, it's really just a misunderstanding. I came in to apologize."
Apologize?
Isabella sneered inwardly, her guard not dropping for a second.
"Last time at the docks, I was too eager, too impulsive," Aldo continued, his tone almost sounding sincere, "Barton chewed me out real good after that. He said you're our most important asset, the golden bait to hook Vitale, that big fish. We can't just mess with you or damage you. So, see, I know I was wrong."
He mentioned Barton's name and orders.
Isabella's heart stirred slightly.
If Barton had really given a clear order not to touch her, then Aldo wouldn't dare disobey, right?
After all, Barton was the boss here. His word was law.
That thought made her taut nerves relax just the tiniest bit.
But when Isabella closely observed Aldo's expression, that faint glimmer of hope quickly sank.
There was no real remorse or disappointment on Aldo's face. His eyes still gleamed with undisguised lust and a bold, testing look.
His smile carried the cruel amusement of a cat playing with a mouse.
Something's wrong.
He wasn't here to apologize.
Or rather, apologizing was just an excuse to get close to her.
Fear gripped Isabella's heart once again.
Without hesitation, she smashed the glass cup hard against the concrete wall beside her.
A sharp crack echoed.
The glass shattered instantly, fragments scattering everywhere.
Startled by her sudden action, Aldo instinctively stepped back half a pace.
Isabella quickly bent down, picking up the sharpest shard of glass from the floor. Without a second thought, she pointed the jagged edge at her own delicate, vulnerable neck.
The sharp glass cut into the skin of her fingers, tiny beads of blood seeping out, but she didn't even notice.
Raising her head, Isabella's pale face showed a desperate resolve. Her blue eyes burned with icy flames as she stared Aldo down.
"If you dare touch me," she said, her voice shaking with emotion but carrying a deadly determination, "I'll slit my own throat right now!"
She pressed slightly harder, the sharp tip of the glass piercing the tender skin of her neck. A thin line of bright red blood trickled down, stark against her pale skin, shocking to the eye.
"I'll turn myself into a cold corpse," Isabella continued, her voice trembling with intensity, yet fierce with a willingness to destroy everything, "and then, Vitale's rage will burn like hellfire, consuming all of you and this filthy place until nothing is left! He'll find your families, your parents, your children, your brothers and sisters. He'll make them pay for what you've done in the most painful ways you can't even imagine! I mean every word!"
These words, coming from a woman who looked so fragile and broken, carried a chilling madness and certainty.
Isabella wasn't bluffing. The fire in her eyes showed a real, unwavering determination to die if she had to.
Aldo froze.
The sleazy grin on his face stiffened instantly, and for the first time, his eyes showed clear shock and a trace of fear.
He had always seen Isabella as a pretty, timid little thing, someone he could toy with however he wanted.
A pampered canary who, when faced with danger, could only cry and beg—what else could she do?
Aldo had even looked forward to seeing her break down and plead, as it would give him a sick sense of conquest.
But he never expected this little rabbit to have such sharp claws, to have such a fierce spirit.
She was threatening suicide, and her words of revenge were so vicious and targeted.
She even directly referenced the typical retaliation methods of the mafia.
Barton had sent him here with the intention of teaching Isabella a lesson while also sending a message to Eva, who lately seemed to be showing some unnecessary softness toward Isabella.
According to Barton's plan, Aldo was just supposed to scare her, maybe take a few cheap liberties, to make Isabella more afraid and to remind Eva of the enemy's true nature and her own position.
But now, before Aldo could even start his act, Isabella had torn the script to shreds and jumped straight to a do-or-die showdown.
This was completely beyond his expectations and control.
He didn't want to fail.
Especially not on a task Barton had given him, and especially not in front of Isabella.
After a few seconds of shock and weighing his options, the fear on Aldo's face was quickly replaced by anger and an even darker, more sinister expression.
He couldn't back down. If he did, it would look like he was scared, and he'd lose face in front of Isabella and everyone else.
Aldo let out a cold snort through his nose, his gaze turning vicious again, "Threatening me with death? You think I'm scared?"
He took a step closer, lowering his voice with a bone-chilling coldness, "Let me tell you, even if you turn into a cold, stiff corpse, if I'm in the mood today, I wouldn't mind having a little fun."
"After all, I've never fucked a corpse before. Bet it'd feel pretty fresh."
Aldo deliberately used crude, disgusting words to rattle Isabella's nerves, taking twisted pleasure in watching her face grow even paler from sheer revulsion and fear.
"As for Vitale?" Aldo scoffed, his tone full of disdain and blind confidence, "He's probably still sniffing around some sewer somewhere. Even if he does find this place, so what?"
"You think we'd be dumb enough to just sit here waiting for him when he shows up?"
"We'd have already taken you—or your corpse—and disappeared to who-knows-where by then."
Aldo's words were like icy poison, seeping into Isabella's already crumbling defenses.
Vitale couldn't find this place?
They'd move again?
Then she might never see him again. She might even, as Aldo said, die in humiliation, her body defiled even after death.