Chapter 188
"When the car exploded, it was empty," Vitale continued, his voice steady, "The moment Eva shot me and drove off to escape, my men—experts in sniping and quick action, who I had positioned nearby—hit her with a specially made tranquilizer dart."
"She passed out from the shot, lost control of the steering wheel, but before the car could crash, it was remotely slowed down."
"The so-called explosion was from a small explosive device I had planted under the car earlier. It was remotely detonated to fake her death, to mislead any of Barton's spies who might be lurking nearby, and to make Marco believe he had lost this piece on his chessboard. That way, he might slip up or even come to check the body himself."
Vitale paused for a moment, noticing the disbelief in Isabella's eyes, and added, "She's probably still unconscious right now."
"Victor gave her a strong sedative and muscle relaxant to make sure she doesn't wake up and cause trouble while being moved."
Vitale leaned in closer, looking straight into Isabella's eyes with a strangely gentle and honest tone, "Actually, she's in the same ward area as you, just separated by a few curtains and a soundproof wall, under close watch."
"You didn't know that the critically injured patient in a coma, the one you've heard about, is Eva."
This piece of information hit Isabella like a bolt of lightning, exploding in her mind.
The same ward?
The special patient she vaguely overheard Jerry and the nurses discussing in hushed tones, the one under strict monitoring.
It was Eva?
A wave of overwhelming joy, like recovering something lost, instantly washed away the last trace of gloom and guilt Isabella had felt over Eva's supposed death.
Tears welled up without warning, blurring her vision.
But this time, they were tears of happiness.
"That's great. I knew it, I just knew you wouldn't kill her..." Isabella choked out, repeating the words over and over.
A bright smile spread across her face, as if the dark clouds of the past few days had been chased away by this ray of sunshine.
Seeing her smile, Vitale felt an odd sense of relief in his heart.
Telling Isabella the truth seemed to have been the right choice.
But he quickly regained his composure and began explaining his plan, his tone turning objective and strategic, "I'm keeping her alive for a reason."
"Just like Barton used you as bait to lure me to the cliff and take a shot at me," Vitale said without hesitation, comparing his enemy's tactics to his own plan, "I need Eva as live bait. She's Marco's mistress, Barton's most capable assistant, and she knows a lot of secrets about Thorn of Justice. More importantly, she's a key link to Marco."
"As long as she's in my hands, Marco will make a move sooner or later. If you're fishing, you've got to use the best bait."
This analogy, though harsh, was spot-on, and Isabella instantly understood Vitale's intentions.
But right after that, a wave of worry gripped her.
Even though Eva had kidnapped her and shot Vitale, she had also protected her from Aldo and his men, giving her rare moments to breathe.
Isabella couldn't just stand by and watch Eva be used as mere bait, subjected to inhumane treatment.
"Vitale," Isabella suddenly grabbed his arm, her tone urgent and pleading, "Can you promise me something? Don't let your men torture her. I know she's done wrong, hurt you, and held me hostage."
"But she saved me. In those situations, if she hadn't stepped in a few times, I might not have made it..."
"So, please, don't let them treat her like that, okay?"
Isabella's eyes were full of genuine concern, worried that Vitale's ruthless crew might do something unthinkable to a defenseless young woman.
Hearing her request, Vitale was momentarily stunned, then his brows furrowed slightly, "Baby, why would you think my men are the kind of lowlife scum who get off on torturing women?"
Seeing the surprise in Isabella's eyes, his tone grew serious, "Listen, Isabella, my people—the ones I personally picked and trained—might not be saints. Their hands aren't clean."
"But they have their own principles and rules. What they enjoy is a wild party, good liquor, beautiful women, and unwinding after a job well done."
"But torturing a captive who can't fight back, especially someone with clear value to us, and in that disgusting, cheap way targeted at women? That's not toughness. That's cowardice. That's trash."
"I don't keep trash around."
Vitale's tone was firm, carrying an unquestionable authority, "Eva is an important asset to me right now, the key to drawing out Marco. I'll make sure she stays alive and in basic health. I won't allow anyone to harm her unnecessarily, especially not in any humiliating or abusive way, under the guise of interrogation or punishment."
"That's not my style, and it's not a style I tolerate. Do you get that?"
Vitale's explanation was strong and clear, carrying the peculiar mix of honor and cold pragmatism typical of someone in his world.
It was harsh, but in a way, it gave Isabella a small sense of relief.
At least in Vitale's world, there seemed to be some unspoken boundaries.
Looking into Vitale's honest and serious blue eyes, Isabella realized her earlier fears might have been...
Well, maybe she was still shaken by the things Aldo and his crew had done.
She awkwardly let go of his arm, covering her slightly flushed face with both hands, her muffled voice slipping through her fingers, "Sorry, Vitale, I got a bit worked up."
"I didn't mean to doubt you or your men. I was just too worried."
Seeing Isabella's embarrassed yet relieved expression, the faint annoyance in Vitale's heart vanished, replaced by a sudden urge to tease her.
He pulled her hands away from her face, holding them in his palms, leaning in closer. His blue eyes glinted with a familiar mix of mischief and desire.
The corner of Vitale's mouth curled into a charming smile that instantly made Isabella's heart race.
"I accept your apology," he said, his voice low and slightly husky with a hint of allure, "So, my dear, clever, and kind Ms. Lorraine..."
"How are you going to make it up to me?"