Love Between Two Enemies Part Four

Secrets Don’t Stay Buried


The photograph felt heavier than paper.

Ethan stared at it under the dim light of his office, long after midnight had swallowed the city. Two men stood side by side, their hands clasped in a firm handshake—smiles restrained, eyes calculating.

His grandfather.
Isabella’s grandfather.

Partners.

Not enemies.

“Impossible,” Ethan whispered.

Everything he had been taught—every warning, every lecture about betrayal—fractured under the weight of that single image.

His phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number:
Tomorrow. 11 p.m. Pier 46. If you want the truth.

Ethan leaned back, heart pounding.

This was either salvation… or a trap.


---

Isabella sensed the shift before Ethan ever told her.

It came in the way Luca watched her now—closer, sharper, like a man tightening a noose while smiling politely. It came in the sudden increase of security around her, the “suggestions” that felt suspiciously like commands.

And it came in her father’s silence.

No more lectures.
No more anger.

Just calculation.

She found Ethan the following evening in a quiet corner of the city museum, pretending to study an abstract painting neither of them saw.

“You’re not okay,” she said softly.

Ethan turned to her. His face was drawn, eyes darker than usual.

“They weren’t enemies,” he said.

Her breath caught. “What?”

“Our grandfathers,” he continued. “They were partners. The war is a lie.”

The world tilted.

“That’s not possible,” Isabella said. “My family—”

“Has been lying to you,” Ethan finished gently. “Just like mine has been lying to me.”

She shook her head, fighting panic. “Why would they do that?”

Before he could answer, a voice interrupted them.

“Because lies are easier to inherit than guilt.”

They turned.

An elderly man stood a few feet away, leaning on a cane, eyes sharp despite his age.

“My name is Samuel Whitaker,” he said. “And I worked for both families.”


---

They met him later that night in a quiet café, the air thick with secrets and old regrets.

“I was there,” Samuel said slowly. “At Riverside. When everything went wrong.”

Isabella’s hands trembled around her cup.

“The Ashfords and Morettis built that project together,” he continued. “But when corruption surfaced—bribes, falsified permits—both sides panicked.”

Ethan leaned forward. “So they blamed each other.”

Samuel nodded. “Your grandfathers made a deal. One family would take the fall publicly. The other would survive. Later, they planned to fix it.”

Isabella swallowed. “But something changed.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “Power.”

One grandfather betrayed the other.

Silence crashed over the table.

“Which one?” Isabella whispered.

Samuel’s gaze shifted between them. “That,” he said quietly, “is what someone is willing to kill to keep buried.”


---

The next morning, the engagement announcement went viral.

Photographs of Isabella and Luca filled every screen. Headlines praised the “strategic union” of two powerful families.

Isabella felt sick.

“You look stunning,” Luca murmured as cameras flashed.

“Thank you,” she replied automatically.

His fingers tightened around hers. “Remember,” he said under his breath, “smile. Or people might start asking questions.”

She met his gaze. “Are you threatening me?”

He smiled wider. “I’m protecting you.”

From what—or whom—he didn’t say.


---

That night, Ethan went to Pier 46.

Alone.

The docks were quiet, waves slapping against wood like restless whispers. Fog rolled in low and thick, obscuring the city lights.

“You’re brave,” a voice said from the shadows.

Ethan turned.

Luca DeSantis stepped into the light.

Rage flared instantly.

“You sent the message,” Ethan said flatly.

“Yes,” Luca replied. “I wanted to see what kind of man you really are.”

“You’re behind the investigation,” Ethan said.

Luca chuckled. “Behind? No. Benefiting from? Absolutely.”

He stepped closer. “Your families built empires on a shared crime. I’m just… inheriting the ruins.”

Ethan’s fists clenched. “You’re using Isabella.”

Luca’s eyes hardened. “I’m marrying her. And through her, I control what comes out—and what stays buried.”

“You won’t win,” Ethan said.

Luca leaned in. “I already have.”

A sudden sound echoed behind them.

Footsteps.

Ethan turned just as a figure lunged from the fog.

Everything happened too fast.

A struggle.
A shove.
A body hitting the water.

When silence returned, Luca was gone.

And Samuel Whitaker was dead.


---

Isabella felt it before she heard the news.

A sharp, suffocating dread wrapped around her chest as her phone rang at 2 a.m.

Ethan’s voice was hoarse.

“He’s dead,” he said. “And Luca set the stage.”

Her knees gave out.

“This is my fault,” she whispered.

“No,” Ethan said fiercely. “This is why we can’t stop.”

Tears streamed down her face. “They’ll destroy us.”

“Then we destroy the lie first,” he replied.

She closed her eyes.

Love had stopped being a feeling.

It had become a choice.

In Part Five: “When Love Turns Dangerous”

A murder investigation closes in.
Isabella is watched—every move controlled.
And Ethan makes a decision that will brand him a traitor to his own blood…

All for her.