Emanuele’s actions were much faster than Isabe had anticipated.Copyright by N?v/elDrama.Org.


    On that very evening, Isabe moved into the top-tier apartment.


    As she pushed open the apartment door, Isabe was greeted by over two hundred square meters of space. The living room alone wasrge enough to host a party for twenty people. The balcony was spacious and offered a view of the river below.


    In total, there were three rooms, each of them generously sized. The master bedroom, in particr, even had a small sitting area.


    “Wow, this is so luxurious!” Isabe marveled at everything before her. She had only seen such opulence online, but now she was actually living in a ce like this.


    However, despite the excellent environment, Isabe couldn’t shake the feeling of not belonging. She was well aware that this ce didn’t truly belong to her. She was just here temporarily, and once everything settled down, she was determined to return to her peaceful life.


    Isabe also discreetly noticed that there were no signs of a man using this ce, which eased her mind a bit. At least Emanuele wasn’t living here, so she didn’t have to be on constant guard.


    Emanuele stood behind Isabe, watching as she curiously took in everything in the apartment, like a kitten exploring a new environment. He couldn’t help but smile. “Isabe, are you satisfied with all of this?”


    Though Isabe knew the environment was nice, it was hard for her to rx and enjoy it, given that it wasn’t something she had achieved through her own efforts and considering her disdain for Emanuele. How could she rx and enjoy all of this?


    So Isabe turned to face Emanuele and said, “Even a caged canary may have afortable life, but it can never be as happy as a free bird.”


    Emanuele smiled, reached out, and embraced Isabe’s shoulder, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “One day, you’lle to enjoy this kind of life.”


    Emanuele had also arranged for clothes and everyday necessities for Isabe.


    Looking at Emanuele, Isabe made a request, “Can you help me bring some things from my old apartment?”


    Emanuele nodded, “We’ll need to clean up first, you know. Some things are covered in blood.”


    “I don’t want the bloodstained clothes,” Isabe replied, “but the most important thing is a small metal box in my closet. Can you bring that to me?”


    She could rece everything else, but that box held unique memories she couldn’t bear to lose.


    Emanuele’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? What’s in the box?”


    “It holds some cherished memories,” Isabe said.


    Inside the box were childhood photos of her with her parents, some gifts her parents had given her, and a Barbie doll she had saved up for and bought as a child. She had seen it in a shop’s window and fallen in love with it. As a girl of her age, who didn’t have dolls? But she didn’t, and she had envied Chloe, who had a variety of Barbie dolls and yed with them, changing their clothes andbing their hair. One day, she couldn’t resist touching one of them, and Chloe had viciously pped her hand, leaving it red and swollen.


    “If you ever touch my stuff again, I’ll break your hand!” Chloe had threatened.


    Isabe dared not touch Chloe’s belongings again, but she still longed for a Barbie of her own. She knew her mother worked hard, and it wasn’t possible for her to buy such things. Her uncle and aunt were out of the question.


    So she saved up, doing chores for the neighbors, helping them with their sheep, earning a few cents here and there, until she had saved enough over a year to buy that Barbie doll. To keep it hidden from Chloe, she would sneak it into her pillow every night, taking it out only to talk to it before bedtime.


    In those dark childhood days, aside from her mother, it was that Barbie doll that gave her the strength to endure and persevere.


    The box contained the most precious things to her, and she was determined to get it back.


    “I understand,” Emanuele said, “I’ll have Phillip get it ready and bring it to you.”


    Emanuele finished speaking and added two more bodyguards to Isabe before leaving. He couldn’t fathom why he cared so much about her safety now.


    Initially, he had been willing to kill her because he believed she might pose a conflict of interest. But now, he found himself wanting to protect her, as if she were his family.


    When he received Isabe’s call today, Emanuele had been deeply anxious and rushed over almost immediately, fearing she might be harmed.


    After ensuring her safety by moving her to the apartment overnight without even properly interrogating the men involved, he could finally return to question them.


    The influence Isabe had on him was something he couldn’t quite determine as good or bad. However, he knew that if he ever discovered her betraying him, he would not hesitate to kill her.


    Isabe had spent the night in the upscale apartment, which was quite different from her previous amodations. It was spacious andfortable, requiring almost no adjustment for her to fall asleep immediately.


    The night had been unusually peaceful, as if nothing had happened. So when Emanuele woke up the next day, he almost felt like everything that urredst night had been a dream.


    But it wasn’t a dream.


    Isabe got up to change her clothes, opened the closet, and saw the wide array of beautiful, exquisite clothing. They still had their price tags attached, all high-end luxury brands, each piece worth several months of her sry.


    She immediately called Emanuele. “The clothes you had someone send are too expensive. Aren’t there any more casual options?”


    “Isabe, your mother has entrusted your life to me now. These things are just standard for a Mafia Princess.”


    Mafia Princess? So now she was a Mafia Princess?


    “I’m not a Mafia Princess,” she retorted angrily.


    Her anger was met with Emanuele’s heartyughter, as if he were mocking her innocence.


    “Whether you think so or not is irrelevant. Right now, everyone outside believes you are. Isabe, stop talking like a child. There will be more incidents likest night’s assassination.”


    Emanuele was now sitting in his office, legs resting on his desk, leaning back in his chair, looking particrly rxed.


    “By the way, weren’t you in a car ident yesterday morning?” he asked.


    “That was an ident. The driver was drunk,” Isabe argued.


    “No, no, no. Phillip investigated. That bastard received arge transfer into his wife’s ount a week before his death. However, the information about the sender was hidden. We’re still investigating further,” Emanuele said.