Isabella's hand trembled as she dialed her mother's number, her mind still reeling from the news. The ringing on the other end seemed to stretch on forever,
each second an agonizing eternity. Finally, her mother's voice came through, soft and hesitant.
"Isabella?" she paused, "I saw the news.. I didn't want to believe it."
The sound of her mother's voice broke something inside her. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks as she struggled to find her voice. "mama.. how could this happen? How could he...." She choked on her words, the weight of them too much to bear. "How could Papa be gone?"
Her mother, Elena, let out a soft sob on the other end, her voice
trembling. "Oh, my sweet girl.. I don't know. I just don't know. I never imagined.. I didn't even know.. this life he had. I thought he was just.. " Her voice broke, and she fell silent, the only sound the faint rustle of tissues and the echo of their shared grief.
Isabella wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to steady herself. "mama, did you.. did you know anything about Papa being involved in the mafia? Is it true? What they're saying on the news? I never .. I thought he was just a businessman."
There was a long pause on the other end, and Isabella could almost see her mother, sitting alone in their old apartment, her face pale with shock. "No, Isabella," Elena finally said, her voice
barely above a whisper. "I didn't know. I swear to you, I didn't know. Your father and I.. we never talked about his work after the divorce. He kept that part of his life separate. I always believed he was running his business, living a normal life. I had no idea.. none at all."
Isabella pressed her fingers to her temple, feeling a headache start to bloom. "But, mama.. this is the mafia. How could we not have known? How could he have kept something like this hidden from us?"
Her mother's voice was filled with a sorrow that mirrored her own. "Isabella, your father was a complicated man. He loved you so much, but he was always secretive about certain things. Maybe he wanted to protect us. Maybe he thought he could keep his life in Italy separate from us here. I don't know.. I wish I had answers for you. But I'm just as shocked and confused as you are."
Isabella slumped back against the sofa, feeling a deep weariness settle into her bones. "I can't believe this is happening," she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. "I never even knew him, not really. And now he's gone.. and I'm left with all these questions."
Elena's voice was thick with emotion. "I know, my love. I know. But you don't have to go through this alone. We'll figure it out together. We'll make arrangements for his burial.. we'll try to understand what happened."
Isabella nodded, though her mother couldn't see it. "I'm going to Italy, mama. I need to be there, to make the arrangements and.. and to find out what's going on. I need to know the truth about Papa."
"I thought you would say that," Elena said softly. "And I think you're right. You need to go. But promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't do anything rash."
"I promise, mama," Isabella said, though even as she spoke the words, she wasn't sure she could keep that promise. There was a fire burning inside her now, a need to uncover the truth, no matter how painful it might be.
"I'll call you as soon as I arrive," Isabella added. "And I'll keep you updated on everything."
"Please do," Elena replied, her voice wavering. "I'll be praying for you, Isabella. Be safe."
"I will, mama. I love you."
"I love you too, my sweet girl."
After she hung up, Isabella sat for a moment, staring blankly at the phone in her hand. The conversation had left her feeling drained, but also more determined than ever to uncover the truth. She couldn't let her father's death remain a mystery, couldn't let the man she thought she knew slip away without understanding the life he had led.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. She looked up to see Alexander standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern.
"How's your mother holding up?" he asked gently, coming to sit beside her on the sofa.
Isabella sighed, leaning into his comforting presence. "She's devastated.. and confused, just like I am. She says she didn't know anything about Papa being involved in the mafia. She thought he was just living a normal life in Italy. I don't know what to believe anymore."
Alexander rubbed her back soothingly. "This must be such a shock for both of you. But you don't have to go through this alone, Bella. I'm here for you."
Isabella looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you, Alex. I don't know what I would do without you."
"You won't have to find out," he said with a small smile. "I'm coming with you to Italy. We'll face this together."
Isabella shook her head, placing a hand on his chest. "Alex, you have so much on your plate right now. That merger you're working on.. your clients are depending on you. I can't ask you to drop everything and come with me."
Alexander frowned, clearly torn between his responsibilities and his desire to support her. "But I don't want you to go through this alone. You shouldn't have to."
"I won't be alone," Isabella reassured him. "Rosa is coming with me. She'll be by my side the whole time. And besides, I need you here, handling everything on this end. The business.. our life. I'll be back soon, and we'll get through this."
Alexander looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he nodded reluctantly. "Okay. But promise me you'll call me every day. I want to know you're safe."
"I promise," Isabella said, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I'll be okay, Alex. I just need to do this. I need to understand what happened, who my father really was."
Alexander sighed, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "I understand. Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what you find out."
They sat in silence for a while, drawing strength from each other. Isabella felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her; fear, anger, sadness, but most of all, determination. She had to know the truth, had to confront the past that her father had kept hidden. It was the only way she could begin to make sense of the world that had been upended in a single night.
Just then, the intercom buzzed, startling them both. Isabella glanced at the clock, Rosa was early.
"I'll get it," Alexander said, rising from the sofa and heading to the intercom. He pressed the button, and Rosa's voice crackled through the speaker.
"Isabella? It's Rosa. I'm here."
"Come on up," Alexander said, pressing the button to unlock the door. He turned to Isabella, his expression softening. "I'll leave you two alone. If you need me, I'll be in the study."
Isabella nodded, grateful for his understanding. "Thank you, Alex. I'll be okay."
A few moments later, the door opened, and Rosa swept in, her eyes wide with concern. She was a whirlwind of energy and emotion, her dark curls bouncing as she rushed over to embrace Isabella.
"Oh, Bella," Rosa said, her voice filled with sympathy. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe this is happening. When your mom called me, I couldn't get here fast enough."
Isabella clung to her friend, feeling the tears welling up again. "Thank you, Rosa. I'm so glad you're here."
Rosa pulled back, holding Isabella at arm's length and giving her a once-over. "You're too pale, Bella. Have you eaten anything? Do you need me to make you some tea? Or wine? Wine would be better, right?"
Isabella managed a small smile at Rosa's attempt to lighten the mood. "Wine sounds perfect. But first, let's sit down. I need to tell you everything."
They moved to the kitchen, where Rosa immediately set about opening a bottle of red wine. Isabella watched her, feeling a sense of comfort in the familiar routine. Rosa had always been the one to take charge, to know exactly what to do in any situation. She was the best friend Isabella could ever ask for, and in that moment, Isabella felt a surge of gratitude for her presence.
Once the wine was poured, they settled at the kitchen table, the rich aroma of the wine filling the air. Isabella took a sip, savoring the warmth as it spread through her chest.
"I still can't believe it," she began, her voice quiet. "I don't know how to process any of this. My father.. the mafia.. it doesn't make sense."
Rosa reached across the table, taking Isabella's hand in hers. "I can't even imagine what you're going through. But you're doing the right thing by going to Italy. You need answers, and you deserve to know the truth."
Isabella nodded, her grip tightening around the wine.