The Rich Girl No One Notices

louder names, where money spoke in accents older than the buildings themselves. Isabella had money, yes, but not the kind that demanded attention. Hers was

ror and wondered, not for the first time, whether she should try harder to be se

hair into a low knot. Her reflection looked composed, almost severe. Her m

ith photographers and women dripping in diamonds. Isabella slipped past them with her invi

nglish. Isabella accepted a glass and positioned herself near a column, the saf

ed, smiling like a benevolent king as guests bowed slightly in his presence. Fashion royalty,

Mor

d herself facing a man in a dark suit that fit him like intent. He wasn't

" she

adge too quickly to read. "Routine c

most l

ense

expression, amusement perhaps. "I

ubt I

epping away, then paused. "You w

ened. "How do

omeone who notices pattern

htened around h

d longer, then nodded. "Be

ss of bodies. Isabella stood very still. No one ever noticed what

er original purpose. De Luca's company was a major partner of Valenti Group, and recent account revie

, passing clusters of executives. As she di

ccounts are

through Zuri

e glanced at the speakers, memorizing faces.

la leaned against the handrail and took a steadying breath

w," someone sa

n. Up close, she noticed a faint scar

ain," s

. "Since we've alrea

abe

moment. Below them, traffi

be alone out he

refe

" he sai

o you make a habit of telling

ly the ones who di

ught. "I don'

id gently. "It'

ead a private letter written inside her chest. "

th lifted. "Good. T

what

said. "Tonight i

ort, brittle soun

see something you don't understan

lready have

st time, he

ou shou

opened. Voices spilled onto the terrace

g, Ms. Moretti,"

inside, but the glitter no longer held its charm. Every

elcomed her back with familiar anonymity. At home, she kicked off her heels and p

hone

wn nu

screen before an

, low and urgent. "Isabella Moretti, yo

m Isabella's hand, sh

hat your mother found is still killing people. An

dead," Isabe

"Because she was invisi

eart pounding. Around her, the apartment was silent

life, Isabella Moretti und

iced had pr

d would chan

ing the voice in her head. Her mother's face surfaced in memory, calm, careful, a

howed her and Clara in Lake Como, sunlight on the water, her mother's hand resting

ounded at

ited unannounced. She moved quiet

ood in th

or halfway. "How

urity," he said. "And you forgo

nvelope in his hand

es

hy

left," he said. "And because someone made a call

pine. "You're not supp

awa

. Matteo stepped inside, his presence fil

alone," he

peop

uldn't,"

rned me not to ask questions.

the person understands the ri

or manipulation, finding neither. "My mother

ression hard

knew

"But I know wha

retched be

on," Isabella said fin

swers come later. Su

er head. "I've survived my wh

ow?" h

self with the steadiness of her voi

is head. "Then ev

then drove away slowly. Matteo'

y a moment

efully built to be unremarkable. She thought of the phone call, the

aid. "But ju

the city beyond. Isabella watched him and realized that

her chest, equal parts fear and resolve, as the night stretched forward, no longer quiet, no l