Chapter 6: The Art of War

The night air was cool against Isabella's skin as she leaned back in her seat, the city lights flickering behind her.

She had orchestrated this meeting, yet here she was, sitting across from Dante Russo, feeling as if she had just stepped onto a battlefield she didn't entirely control.

Dante exuded confidence, his posture relaxed, his gaze assessing.

He was studying her just as much as she was him, both of them unspoken competitors in a game neither was willing to lose.

"You didn't answer my question,"

Dante said smoothly, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"Why invite me here?"

Isabella tilted her head, her expression unreadable.

She wasn't going to hand him answers on a silver platter.

That wasn't her style.

Instead, she let the silence settle between them, heavy and suffocating, until Dante's smirk wavered just slightly.

That was all the confirmation she needed.

He wasn't used to people controlling the pace of the conversation.

Good.

She lifted her wine glass to her lips and took a deliberate sip, never breaking eye contact.

Dante leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table.

"You don't talk much outside of business, do you?"

She froze.

The statement was so casual, so offhanded, yet it sent a sharp jolt through her.

Most people never mentioned it outright.

They danced around it, pretending not to notice.

But Dante had the audacity to address it head-on.

Isabella placed her glass down carefully, fingers tightening slightly around the stem.

Her silence was an answer in itself.

Dante studied her reaction, and for the first time, there was something in his gaze that wasn't just amusement or calculation.

Curiosity.

He was trying to figure her out.

Isabella inhaled slowly, steadying herself.

She wasn't going to let him dig deeper.

Not here.

Not now.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek, black envelope, sliding it across the table toward him.

Dante's gaze flicked downward.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands before raising an eyebrow.

"What's this?"

Isabella simply waited.

He smirked.

"Ah. The silent treatment."

Still, he opened the envelope, unfolding the document inside.

His smirk faded as his eyes scanned the contents.

"This is—" He stopped, exhaling sharply.

A counteroffer.

Detailed.

Ruthless.

And undeniably brilliant.

Isabella finally spoke, her voice soft yet firm.

"You thought you had the upper hand."

Dante's lips twitched.

"I was hoping."

She arched a brow.

"Hope has no place in business."

Dante chuckled, folding the document and placing it back into the envelope.

"You really don't make anything easy, do you?"

She didn't answer.

She didn't need to.

Dante tapped the envelope against the table before standing.

"I'll think about it."

Isabella watched him go, her fingers still curled around the base of her wine glass.

She had won this round.

But something told her the war was far from over.

*************************************************

Meanwhile – Lilly Blackwood's POV

Lilly sat at the bar, stirring the cocktail in front of her.

The neon lights of the club cast a faint glow over her face, but her mind was elsewhere.

She hated the way Isabella shut people out.

It had been years, yet her twin still carried that weight, still locked herself inside her own world.

Lilly had tried—God, she had tried—to get her to open up, but Isabella had mastered the art of deflection.

"Waiting for someone?"

Lilly glanced up to see Adrian Wolfe sliding onto the barstool beside her.

Dante's best friend.

And a complete pain in the ass.

"Not you," she said dryly, taking a sip of her drink.

Adrian smirked.

"Ouch."

He signaled the bartender, ordering a drink for himself.

"So, what's the deal with your sister and Dante?"

Lilly narrowed her eyes.

"You tell me."

Adrian chuckled.

"Fair enough. But you should know—Dante isn't the type to let things go once he's interested."

Lilly sighed.

"Isabella isn't interested in anything but business."

Adrian studied her for a moment before shaking his head.

"You really believe that?"

Lilly hesitated.

Adrian's smirk deepened.

"Thought so."

She rolled her eyes, finishing her drink.

"I don't have time for this."

Adrian simply leaned back, watching her as she got up.

"Neither does your sister. But that's never stopped Dante before."

Lilly hated that she believed him.

*************************************************

The Next Morning – Blackwood Industries

Isabella arrived at the office early, her heels clicking against the marble floors as she entered the executive wing.

Eleanor was already waiting for her in the conference room, her laptop open and a cup of coffee in hand.

"You're late,"

Eleanor said without looking up.

Isabella arched a brow.

"It's 7:00 AM."

Eleanor smirked.

"Exactly."

Shaking her head, Isabella took a seat.

"Any updates?"

Eleanor pushed a folder across the table.

"Dante hasn't responded to your counteroffer yet, but he will. He's too stubborn to let this go."

Isabella nodded, flipping through the documents.

Eleanor studied her.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Isabella didn't answer.

Eleanor grinned.

"That's what I thought."

Before Isabella could respond, her phone buzzed.

A message.

From Dante.

Dante: Nice move, Blackwood. But you're not the only one who plays to win.

Isabella's lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

The game was far from over.

*************************************************

Dante's POV

Dante tossed his phone onto his desk, staring out at the city skyline.

Isabella Blackwood was a damn problem.

And he wasn't sure if he wanted to solve it or make it worse.

"Thinking about her again?"

Dante sighed as Adrian stepped into the office, a knowing smirk on his face.

"You need a hobby,"

Dante muttered.

Adrian laughed.

"I have one. Annoying you."

Dante shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

"She's good."

"Understatement," Adrian said, dropping into a chair.

"She's dangerous."

Dante leaned against his desk.

"That's what makes it fun."

Adrian snorted.

"You have a death wish."

Dante smirked.

"Maybe."

But deep down, he knew it wasn't just about business anymore.

Isabella Blackwood was a puzzle.

And he was going to solve her.

One way or another.