Chapter 29 – Isabella's Disappearance
The day dawned gray, heavy clouds hiding any trace of light that might offer hope. Alexander sat at his desk at the office, but his mind was elsewhere. With each passing minute, the uneasy feeling in his chest grew. Isabella should have arrived early, as she always did. Hours had already passed, and still no sign of her.
He glanced at the clock again, the hands seeming to mock his anxiety. The silence in his office was suffocating. Alexander stood up abruptly, grabbing his cell phone. He dialed Isabella's number. He rang and rang. Until it went to voicemail.
"Damn it…" he muttered, rubbing his face hard.
A second thought flashed through his mind. If Isabella wasn't with him… she might be with Dante.
Alexander hesitated for only a moment, then searched for Dante's contact information and pressed the dial button. On the other end, a hoarse, ironic voice answered:
"Alexander? That's new." You finally decided to call me for a friendly chat?
"Spare me, Dante." Alexander's voice was firm, but there was a hint of concern. "Is Isabella with you?"
There was a brief but charged silence on the other end.
"No," Dante replied, his tone lacking the mocking tone of before. "Why would she be?"
"Because she disappeared," Alexander muttered. "She didn't show up for work today, she's not answering her phone."
Dante was silent for a few seconds, until he let out a muffled curse.
"Shit." The seriousness in his voice was unmistakable. "Are you saying you have no idea where she is?"
"None." Alexander pressed the phone to his ear, his jaw rigid. "And I have a terrible feeling."
Dante sighed deeply.
"I'm on my way to your company. Wait for me."
Half an hour later, Dante emerged, parking his sports car at the company entrance. He walked quickly inside, where he found Alexander at the reception desk.
"So, Sherlock, what do we have so far?" Dante asked, crossing his arms.
Alexander gave him an impatient look.
"Don't joke about this. Isabella could be in danger."
Dante's wry smile faded. He knew. Something was terribly wrong.
The two of them went upstairs to Alexander's office, sitting across from each other in the tense atmosphere.
"We need to think things through," Alexander began. "Yesterday, when we left the company, I invited her to dinner. But… she ignored me."
"Ignored you?" Dante raised an eyebrow in surprise. "That's new."
"She seemed distracted. Restless. Like she had something else on her mind." Alexander leaned back in his chair, staring into space. "And now, today, she just disappears."
Dante drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully.
"So the last time you saw her was last night. And you didn't walk her home."
"No," Alexander admitted, a touch of regret in his voice. "I thought she needed space."
Dante snorted, rising from his chair.
"Space?" He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alexander, this is not the time for space. She has a stalker after her!"
The name echoed in the room like a sentence. The stalker. That hooded man who had appeared in Dante's mansion, the same figure who always seemed one step ahead.
Alexander closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"Then it's decided. Let's go to her apartment."
Shortly afterward, Alexander's car drove through the streets toward Isabella's neighborhood. The silence inside the vehicle was heavy, as if any word could explode the tension.
When they arrived at the building, they went straight up to her floor. Alexander opened the door with the spare key he had, but as soon as they entered, a sense of strangeness overcame them both.
The apartment was immaculate. Extremely tidy. There was no sign of a struggle, no mess. The bed was made, the flowers still on the dresser, the note tucked away. Everything seemed… untouched.
"That doesn't make sense." Dante paced the apartment, eyes alert. "If the stalker were here, he would leave some trace. Some provocation."
Alexander frowned, touching his lips with his hand thoughtfully.
"Perfection is what scares me the most," he said softly. "As if someone had made a point of keeping everything tidy, to throw them off."
Dante stopped at the window, staring at the dark street outside.
"Or to provoke us." His eyes narrowed. "To show he can come and go as he pleases, without leaving a mark."
Alexander clenched his fists, a knot of anger growing in his stomach.
"Isabella…" he whispered, as if just saying the name could protect her.
Dante turned to him, serious.
"Last night, you said you invited her to dinner, but she ignored you. Maybe… she was going to meet that bastard."
Alexander stared at him in disbelief.
"Are you implying she went willingly?"
Dante shrugged, though his eyes shone with concern.
"Don't underestimate the manipulation of someone like that. Maybe he lured Isabella with some promise. A truth, perhaps. Something we haven't told you."
Alexander took a deep breath, as if swallowing a hot iron.
"Helena…" he murmured, almost without realizing it.
The name hung in the air, heavy with memories and unspoken secrets.
Dante stared at him for a few seconds in silence, then looked away.
"If he mentioned Helena to Isabella… then she followed him."
A heavy silence fell. They both knew there was no turning back from that point on.
Alexander walked to the door, determined.
"If it's true… then the stalker is one step ahead of us. And Isabella, caught in the middle of a game she doesn't understand."
Dante followed, his expression hardened.
"Then it's time to turn this around."
The two of them left the apartment, the cold night enveloping them like a dark warning.
They weren't allies. They never had been. But now they were united by one thing: finding Isabella before it was too late.
And as they walked down the sidewalk, they both knew, deep down, that this hunt wouldn't just be against the stalker. It would also be against their own secrets.
Because Isabella was about to find out everything.