Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Was Erased From History
The photograph was lying on the table.
Mara stared at it.
Her own face looked back at her.
Taken without permission.
Taken inside Dante’s mansion.
Someone had been watching her.
For how long?
Nobody knew.
Dante moved closer.
His expression changed from confusion to anger.
"Give me that."
Mara handed him the photograph.
He looked at it carefully.
The back was covered with handwriting.
Three words.
She knows everything.
Dante’s fingers tightened around the picture.
"Who took this?"
Nobody answered.
Clara looked terrified.
Not because of the photograph.
Because of what it meant.
"Dante."
He looked at her.
"What?"
Clara hesitated.
"The hidden room..."
She swallowed.
"It was never supposed to open."
Dante stared at her.
"You knew about it."
"No."
Her voice cracked.
"I knew my father had secrets. I didn’t know this existed."
Mara looked between them.
"Your father built a secret room inside your bedroom?"
Dante looked around the hidden space.
"This house belonged to my family before me."
He moved inside.
"Apparently, I never knew it."
The room was small.
No luxury.
No expensive furniture.
Only one desk.
One chair.
And hundreds of files stacked against the walls.
It wasn’t a hidden bedroom.
It was an archive.
Someone had spent years collecting information.
Mara stepped closer to the desk.
There were documents everywhere.
Names.
Dates.
Photos.
Records.
She picked up one folder.
The name on it made her stop.
Dante Vale.
The file was thick.
Too thick.
Dante noticed.
"Open it."
Mara looked at him.
"Are you sure?"
"No."
He stared at the folder.
"But I need to know."
She opened it.
The first page contained medical information.
Hospital reports.
Treatment notes.
Recovery records.
Mara read quickly.
Then her face changed.
"Dante..."
"What?"
She looked at him.
"These records are from after your accident."
"Yes."
"No."
She shook her head.
"Not after."
She pointed at the dates.
"They started before."
Dante moved closer.
Mara continued reading.
"Someone was monitoring your health before the accident happened."
Clara stepped forward.
"What?"
Mara looked at her.
"There are notes here."
She read the page.
"Subject shows increasing suspicion. Possible discovery of family operations. Continue observation."
The room went silent.
Dante stared at the words.
"Subject."
Mara closed the folder.
"They weren’t treating you like family."
Dante looked at the documents.
"They were studying me."
Nobody spoke.
Because the truth was becoming clearer.
Dante’s accident wasn’t a sudden betrayal.
It was the final step of a plan that had existed for years.
He moved deeper into the room.
On the wall were photographs.
Dante as a child.
Dante as a teenager.
Dante at business meetings.
Dante with people he trusted.
Every moment of his life had been documented.
Controlled.
Watched.
Mara noticed something.
One photograph was different.
A young Dante standing beside a girl.
The same woman from the previous picture.
The woman everyone believed was dead.
Dante picked it up.
His hand trembled slightly.
"Who is she?"
Mara asked.
Dante didn’t answer.
Clara looked at the photograph.
Her face became pale.
"You know her."
Dante stared at Clara.
"Tell me."
Clara looked away.
"Dante..."
"Tell me."
Her silence was an answer.
Mara stepped closer.
"Who is she?"
Clara finally whispered.
"Isabella."
Dante froze.
The name meant something.
A memory.
A wound.
"You said she was dead."
Clara looked at him.
"She was supposed to be."
Mara frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Dante placed the photograph down.
"Isabella was my childhood friend."
He paused.
"My first employee."
Clara added quietly.
"And the person who knew Dante before he became Dante Vale."
Mara looked confused.
"What happened to her?"
Dante stared at the photo.
"She disappeared."
"When?"
"The same year my father died."
The connection was obvious.
Too obvious.
Mara looked at the files again.
"She’s connected to all of this."
Dante didn’t answer.
Because he already knew.
Suddenly, a small sound came from the desk.
A hidden device.
A recording player.
It activated by itself.
Everyone turned.
Then a man’s voice filled the room.
Older.
Calm.
Familiar.
Dante stopped breathing.
Because he knew that voice.
His father.
"If you are hearing this, then my plan failed."
Dante moved closer.
The recording continued.
"I tried to protect you from the truth."
A pause.
Then:
"But the person closest to you was already too far gone."
Clara stepped back.
Her eyes widened.
"No..."
Dante looked at her.
The recording continued.
"Do not trust anyone who tells you they saved you."
The room became colder.
"Because the person who caused your accident..."
Static interrupted.
Everyone waited.
Then the voice returned.
"...was the person who loved you the most."
The recording stopped.
Nobody moved.
Mara looked at Dante.
He looked at Clara.
Neither spoke.
Then Clara whispered:
"Dante, I can explain."
He didn’t answer.
His silence was worse.
Because for the first time, he looked at her like a stranger.
A loud crash suddenly came from outside the hidden room.
Everyone turned.
Marcus appeared at the entrance.
His face was tense.
"You need to leave."
Dante looked at him.
"Why?"
Marcus looked toward the hallway.
"Because someone knows we found this room."
Mara’s heart sank.
"How?"
Marcus didn’t answer.
Instead, he looked at the photograph on the desk.
The one showing Mara.
Then he looked at her.
"They didn’t take that picture to scare you."
Mara felt a chill.
"Then why?"
Marcus’s expression changed.
"Because they wanted you to know you were part of the plan."
The lights suddenly went out.
The mansion fell into darkness.
Dante’s security alarms failed one by one.
Then a phone rang.
Not Mara’s.
Not Dante’s.
A hidden phone inside the secret room.
Dante reached for it.
The screen showed one name.
And everyone froze.
May you like
Because the caller was the woman in the photograph.
Isabella.
