Isabella's POV:

Ravello, my beloved hometown, had always felt like a sanctuary. Nestled high above the Amalfi Coast, it was a place of beauty and peace. The cobblestone streets wound through the town like ancient veins, connecting centuries-old buildings with breathtaking vistas of the Mediterranean Sea. It was a place where dreams seemed tangible, where my aspirations of becoming a professional dancer felt within reach.

That day began like any other. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm golden hue over the town. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air as I left the café my parents owned, "La Dolce Vita," and made my way to the small dance studio where I spent most of my afternoons. Dancing was my passion, my escape from the mundane. Every pirouette, every leap, brought me closer to the dreams I held so dear.

As the day drew to a close, I packed up my things and left the studio, the soft strains of classical music still echoing in my mind. I hummed a tune, letting the beauty of the evening wash over me. The scent of blooming flowers mingled with the salty tang of the sea breeze, creating a heady mix that always made me feel alive. I turned down a narrow alleyway, the shortcut I often took to get home faster. That's when I noticed the black sedan.

At first, I didn't think much of it. Cars came and went all the time, and Ravello was generally a safe place. But then the sedan slowed down, and my heart began to race. I quickened my pace, glancing over my shoulder, trying to convince myself that I was just being paranoid. But the sedan stopped, and two men in dark suits and sunglasses got out.

Fear surged through me as one of them called my name. "Isabella Romano?"

Before I could react, the other man grabbed me, pressing a cloth over my mouth. The sweet, sickly smell of chloroform filled my nostrils, and I tried to scream, but it was too late. My vision blurred, and the world around me faded to black.

When I woke up, I found myself in a dimly lit room with stone walls and a small, barred window. My hands and feet were bound, and a wave of panic washed over me. I struggled against the ropes, but they were tied too tightly. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Where was I? Who had taken me? And why?

In front of me was seated a guy wearing a black suit. Then he stood up. He was tall, with dark hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through me. There was something about him that radiated power and danger.

"Good morning, Isabella," he said in a deep, smooth voice. "I apologize for the restraints, but they are necessary for now."

"Who are you? Why am I here?" I asked my voice filled with fear

"My name is Antonio Bianchi,"  Antonio continued gently. "You are here because of your father. He has made some unfortunate choices, and you are going to help him see reason."

My heart sank. I had heard of the Bianchi family—they were notorious in Italy for their involvement in organized crime. I could hardly believe this was happening to me. What did they want with me? Are they going to use me to get my father's attention ?

I glared at him, my eyes filled with anger. "My father has nothing to do with this. Let me go!"

He shook his head. "I can't do that, Isabella. But I promise you, no harm will come to you as long as you cooperate. This is a difficult situation, but it's necessary."

"I know this is hard," He continued. "But try to understand. Your father needs to learn that his actions have consequences. You are safe here, and I will make sure you are treated well. But you need to stay calm and cooperate."

His words did little to comfort me. I turned away, silent tears streaming down my face. My mind raced with thoughts of my parents—what must they be going through? Would they be able to find me? I felt a pang of guilt for the worry I knew I was causing them.

I looked at him, my eyes filled with tears. "Please, let me go. I just want to go home."

The days that followed were a blur of fear and confusion. I was kept in a luxurious but confining room, guarded around the clock. Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but notice the strange duality of my captor. Antonio was stern and commanding, yet there was a gentleness in his eyes when he spoke to me. It was as if he was as much a prisoner of his circumstances as I was of mine.

I spent my days in a state of heightened anxiety, my mind constantly racing with plans for escape and thoughts of my family. Every noise, every creak of the door, set my heart pounding. But as much as I wanted to hate Antonio, I found myself intrigued by him. He would visit often, bringing me meals and engaging me in conversation. He asked about my life, my dreams, my love for ballet. It was strange, having my captor show such interest in me, and I found myself opening up to him despite my better judgment.

One evening, as I sat in the garden under the stars, Antonio came and opened up to me about his life. "I never wanted this," he admitted, his voice tinged with sadness. "But it's my family. My father died when I was young, and I had to take over. It's a heavy burden."

"I know but it's not a reason to kidnapp somoene out of nowhere !" I answered. Then I instantly regretted what I said.

He stood up, looking at me with those dark green eyes showing an emotion that I never saw: rage. "Your father," he said slowly, "he has been... uncooperative. His refusal to work with us has put him in a dangerous position. Bringing you here was meant to be a message to him, a way to show him the consequences of his actions."

My heart clenched at the mention of my father. I had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed was a blow. "So I'm just a pawn in your game?"

I didn't let him answer as I continued " You know what ? Fine. Now please leave alone in my room because you're getting on my nerves."

"I'm leaving tomorrow, I'm going to LA" He informed me

"Do I look like I care ?"

" You are stubborn just like your dad"

"Don't you dare mention him !" I screamed

"Goodnight Isabella" He finally said.

I turned away, tears of frustration and anger streaming down my face. I wanted my freedom, my family, my life back. As he left , I went to my bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into the pillow. My world had been turned upside down, and I was caught in a web of emotions I couldn't untangle. Anger, fear, confusion, and something else—something that terrified me even more than being Antonio Bianchi's captive. 

Chapter 2!!!!! Do you like it ?