Chapter 31: The Near Miss

Isabella's POV

The kitchen is empty except for Isabella and Ghost.

She's making coffee early because Damián is still sleeping and she needed to do something with her hands. Something to keep them from shaking. Something to keep her mind occupied.

Ghost appears like he materialized from shadow.

He doesn't say hello. Doesn't ask how she slept. Just leans against the counter and watches her with eyes that have seen too much violence to be surprised by anything.

"You're not her," Ghost says simply.

Isabella's hand instinctively moves toward the knife she keeps hidden in her jacket pocket. The blade is small but sharp enough to be effective. She's trained enough to use it before Ghost can pull a gun.

The question is whether she's fast enough.

"What are you talking about?" Isabella forces her voice to stay calm. Forces Sofia's gentleness into the words.

Ghost smiles, and there's nothing warm about it.

"Sofia was weak," he says. "Gentle. She'd cry at movies and couldn't kill an insect. She moved like she was apologizing for taking up space." He pauses. "You move like someone trained to fight. You have the eyes of someone who's seen violence and didn't flinch."

Isabella's heart is pounding so hard she thinks it might explode.

This is it. This is the moment everything falls apart. Ghost has figured it out. Ghost is about to expose her, and Damián is upstairs sleeping, unaware that his second-in-command is about to tear down the careful lie Isabella has constructed.

"I don't know what you mean," Isabella says. But even she can hear the lie in her voice.

"Yes, you do," Ghost says. He's still leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. Like he's not threatening to destroy her. "You know exactly what I mean. Because you're not Sofia. Sofia died three weeks ago. You're someone wearing her face."

Isabella's hand tightens on the knife handle. She could kill him right now. One quick movement. One blade across his throat. She's trained for this. She can do this.

But killing Ghost means Damián will want to know why. Means explaining why she killed his second-in-command. Means opening a conversation that ends with her exposure.

"Damián wouldn't notice because he's blinded," Ghost continues. "He's blinded by whatever she makes him feel. By the fact that you're not her but you're filling the space she left. But I notice. I've been noticing for weeks."

Isabella pulls the knife out slowly. Not to attack. Just to show Ghost what she has. Just to make clear that she's not defenseless.

Ghost's smile widens.

"There she is," he says. "There's the real you. Not Sofia. Not a nurse. Someone who knows how to fight."

"Don't move," Isabella says. Her voice is ice now. No more gentleness. No more pretense. "Don't move and don't call out. Because I will kill you before anyone can help you."

"I know," Ghost says. He doesn't look afraid. "That's why I came to talk to you alone. That's why I'm not bringing guards. Because I want to know who you really are before I decide what to do with you."

Isabella's mind races through scenarios. She could stab him. Could make it look like he attacked her first. Could claim self-defense. Could bury the body and disappear.

But Ghost isn't acting like someone who's about to die. He's acting like someone who has already made a decision about her fate.

"I'm not going to kill you," Ghost says like he can read her mind. "I'm not going to expose you. I'm not going to tell Damián what I know."

Isabella doesn't lower the knife.

"Why?" she asks.

"Because Damián is in love with you," Ghost says. "And when a man like Damián loves someone, he becomes vulnerable. He becomes reckless. He becomes someone I can use."

Isabella understands then. Ghost isn't trying to protect Damián. Ghost is trying to use her to manipulate him.

"What do you want?" Isabella asks.

"I want to know what you want from him," Ghost says. "Are you federal? Are you working for someone? Are you here to destroy him or steal from him or something else entirely?"

Isabella considers lying. Considers making up a story that Ghost might believe. But something about the way he's looking at her says he'll know if she lies.

"I was federal," Isabella says. "I came here to investigate Damián. To prove he killed my sister. But he didn't kill her. You did."

Ghost's expression doesn't change, but something shifts in his eyes.

"Sofia," he says. "The nurse. Yes. I killed her. She was a problem that needed solving."

He says it like he's describing the weather. Like he's admitting to nothing more serious than making a business decision.

"And now you're in love with Damián," Ghost continues. "Even though you came here to destroy him. Even though you're federal and he's a criminal and the entire relationship is built on lies."

"Yes," Isabella admits.

Ghost nods slowly.

"Then we understand each other," he says. "Because I'm in love with power. And if Damián falls, if he becomes weak enough to fall, then I can take what's his. His organization. His territory. His empire."

Isabella realizes what he's saying. He's going to use her to bring Damián down. He's going to manipulate her into becoming the weapon that destroys the man she loves.

"I won't help you," Isabella says.

"You don't have a choice," Ghost says. He reaches into his jacket slowly, his movements careful and deliberate. Isabella tenses, but he just pulls out a phone. He shows her the screen.

It's a video. Isabella and Damián. Her apartment. Three days ago. Them together in a way that makes clear exactly who she is and what she's done.

"I have more videos," Ghost says. "I have recordings. I have evidence that you're federal. I have proof that you lied. And if you don't help me, I send all of this to Damián and then to the rest of the organization."

Isabella's hands are shaking.

"What do you want me to do?" she whispers.

"Nothing yet," Ghost says. He puts the phone away. "Right now, I just want you to know that you belong to me too. That your choice to stay with Damián has made you useful. That when I decide to move, you're going to help me whether you want to or not."

He moves toward the kitchen door.

"Keep the knife," he says over his shoulder. "You might need it soon. Things are about to get very complicated."

He leaves, and Isabella is standing alone in the kitchen with blood dripping from the knife she never used.