Elara followed the trail of clues, the whispers, the shadows, deeper into the Sanctuary. The inscription on the wall had revealed a code, a cipher, a message that led her to a hidden room within the Vault. She had deciphered the message, and it had pointed her to a specific entry in the ledger, a passage that held the key to Isabella's fate.
She stood before the ledger, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing. She had been right to follow the clues, to trust her instincts, to believe that there was more to the story than met the eye.
She opened the ledger, her fingers tracing the pages, her eyes scanning the lines, her mind struggling to make sense of the words. She had read the ledger before, but this time, she saw something different, something she had missed before, something that sent a chill down her spine.
She saw a passage, a note, a record, a single entry that had been hidden in plain sight, buried among the lines of Vito's betrayals, his crimes, his descent into madness.
It was a record of a conversation, a meeting, a moment in time. It was a record of a decision, a choice, a terrible truth.
The record stated that Vito had made a choice, a choice to protect Isabella, to protect her from the dangers of the underworld, to protect her from the darkness that had begun to consume him. But he had made a terrible mistake.
He had believed that the only way to protect her was to silence her, to erase her memory, to make her forget who she was. He had believed that the only way to save her was to lose her.
Elara felt a wave of nausea, a surge of horror, a sense of betrayal. She had been wrong. Vito had not simply hidden Isabella away. He had done something far worse. He had erased her memory, he had stolen her identity, he had made her forget who she was.
He had lost her.
Elara knew that she had to find Isabella, to restore her memories, to help her reclaim her identity, to bring her back from the brink of oblivion. She knew that she had to face the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.
But she also knew that finding Isabella would be no easy task. She was a ghost, a phantom, a shadow, a woman who had been erased from the world, a woman who had been lost to the darkness. But Elara was determined to find her, to bring her back, to make her whole again.
She was determined to bring justice to the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.
Elara stood in the Vault, the weight of her discovery pressing down on her. She had learned that Vito Russo, the man she had been chasing for so long, had not simply hidden Isabella away. He had done something far worse. He had erased her memory, he had stolen her identity, he had made her forget who she was.
He had lost her.
Elara knew that she had to find Isabella, to restore her memories, to help her reclaim her identity, to bring her back from the brink of oblivion. She knew that she had to face the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.
But she also knew that finding Isabella would be no easy task. She was a ghost, a phantom, a shadow, a woman who had been erased from the world, a woman who had been lost to the darkness. But Elara was determined to find her, to bring her back, to make her whole again.
She was determined to bring justice to the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.
Elara had to find a way to find Isabella, to reach her, to help her. She had to find a way to penetrate the darkness that had consumed her, to break through the walls that Vito had built around her, to bring her back from the brink of oblivion.
She knew she had to start somewhere. She had to find a clue, a whisper, a shadow, a ghost of a memory. She had to find a way to break through the silence, to break through the darkness, to find Isabella.
She looked around the Vault, her eyes scanning the shelves, the books, the papers, the photographs. She saw a collection of journals, their pages filled with a man’s handwritten entries, his thoughts, his feelings, his fears.
She opened one of the journals, her eyes scanning the words, her mind trying to make sense of the scrawled script. The words were filled with anguish, with remorse, with regret. They spoke of a love lost, a betrayal, a life destroyed.
The words spoke of Vito Russo.
But they also spoke of Isabella.
They spoke of a woman who had been taken from her life, a woman who had been erased from the world, a woman who had been lost to the darkness.
They spoke of a woman who had been silenced.
And then, Elara found it. A single, seemingly insignificant entry, buried deep within the pages of the journal, a name that sent a chill down her spine.
The name was Isabella. But not Isabella Russo.
Isabella Corleone.
Elara’s heart sank. It couldn’t be. Could it?
YOU ARE READING
Cinderella meet Mr. Wolf
WerewolfMy life is full of mistakes and regrets but I have one thing in my life that I won't regret. At first, I blame myself for knowing you that I wished I never knew you and never loved you so that I'm free from heartbreak. But now, I want you to know...
