ISADORAThe boutique smelled of fresh fabric and expensive perfume, the kind of place where people whispered in hushed tones, as if speaking too loudly would disturb the delicate world of lace and silk.Laura sat on a plush chair near the mirrors, flipping through her phone while one of the attendants hung up the latest options she’d picked for me. I ran my fingers over the delicate embroidery of a gown, trying to focus, trying to imagine walking down the aisle, wearing this, marrying Luca—Luca.I exhaled slowly, pressing my fingers against my temple. His refusal to postpone the wedding had settled in my chest like a weight, heavy and unmoving. I understood why, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. The world around us was shifting, secrets unraveling, and yet here I was, picking out a wedding dress as if nothing had changed.But everything had changed."Try this one on," Laura said, standing up and handing me a dress. "It looks like something you'd actually wear,
LUCAThe moment Isadora stepped through the door, I knew something was wrong.She wasn’t the type to shrink, to tremble, but there was something different about the way she held herself—rigid, controlled, like she was keeping herself from unraveling.Laura was right behind her, her face tight with unease, which only made my pulse hammer harder.I pushed off the desk, my full attention on Isadora. "What happened?"She exhaled sharply, her gaze locked onto mine. "Someone approached me at the boutique."Every muscle in my body went rigid.I crossed the room in three strides, stopping just inches from her. "Who?"She shook her head. "I don’t know. I didn’t recognize him. But he knew my name, Luca. He got into the dressing room—"I snapped.My jaw clenched so hard I could feel the grind of my teeth, my hands fisting at my sides to keep from breaking something.I turned to Marco, who had followed them inside. "Where the fuck were you?"His face was tight
LUCAThe moment Marco left, I poured myself a drink, but it did nothing to settle the fire burning in my chest. My mind was already running through every possibility, every name that could be responsible for this betrayal.A fucking mole.Someone close. Someone who had access. Someone who knew too much.I needed to be careful. If I made the wrong move, they’d spook, and we’d lose our one chance to track this bastard back to Emilio.My fingers flexed around the glass before I tossed back the whiskey, the burn doing nothing to temper my rage.I pulled out my phone again and dialed Bianca.She answered on the first ring.“Luca.”“Where are you?” I asked, skipping the pleasantries.There was a pause, then, “My office.”“Stay there. I’m coming.”I didn’t wait for her response before I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.---BIANCA’S OFFICEBianca looked up as I stormed in, her eyes narrowing at my expression. “This isn’t a social visit
ISADORAThe tension in the house was suffocating. Luca hadn’t spoken much since last night, but I could feel his presence—watchful, calculating. He was always in control, but now? Now he was something else entirely. A storm waiting to break.I sat in the library, pretending to read while my mind ran in circles. Emilio. The name had latched onto my thoughts, sinking its claws in, refusing to let go. He had sent someone to me. He had found me. I was supposed to be safe under Luca’s protection, yet a stranger had slipped past his security like it was nothing.A sharp knock at the door made me jump.Laura stepped in, eyes scanning me carefully before shutting the door behind her. “You okay?”I sighed, closing the book I wasn’t actually reading. “I don’t know.”She sat on the armrest of my chair, crossing her arms. “Luca is losing his mind over this.”I snorted. “Yeah, I gathered that much.”“Have you spoken to him?”I shook my head. “Not since last night. He ju
ISADORA “I mean,” I continued, my voice tightening with each word, “what if it’s not me they want? What if they’re after you? What if Emilio’s plan is bigger than just hurting me? Maybe I’m just the distraction.” I saw the shift in him, but it wasn’t shock. It was something else—an understanding. A knowing. “I thought I’d made that clear,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was speaking to himself. “You’re always the first to be in danger because they know what you mean to me. But I’ve never thought you were the ultimate target.” My chest tightened at the realization. I wanted to argue, but the truth was, he already knew. He’d already thought of it. He always thought of everything. “You always think about me,” I murmured, my voice cracking slightly, “but you never think about yourself. About what could happen to you.” He stepped closer, but this time there was no anger in his movement. Just an unsettling calm. “You don’t get it, Isador
LUCAThe Next MorningThe storm inside me hadn’t passed. It had simply settled into a quiet rage, one that hummed beneath my skin like a loaded gun. I stood by the window in my office, watching the sun claw its way up through the skyline, wondering how the hell it had come to this.Emilio. That name was starting to rot in my brain. I should’ve seen him coming. I should’ve anticipated the move, the breach. The moment I saw the fear in Isadora’s eyes, I knew I’d failed. And failure? That’s not something I wear lightly.She was right. She always is when it comes to the things I don’t want to admit. I’d been so obsessed with shielding her, watching her every move, preparing for every threat—except the one that slipped right past us. And she’d seen it clearer than I had: maybe she wasn’t the real target. Maybe I was.But fuck, if I’m the target, then fine. Let them come. I can take it. I’ve taken worse. What I can’t take? Watching her unravel, feeling that grief eating her
LUCAAn Hour LaterI watched her disappear down the hall with a flicker of a smile on her lips. A rare one. One I hadn’t seen in too long.God, I missed that smile.The moment she turned the corner, I was already pulling my phone from my pocket.“Status?” I asked, voice low.Rafael answered on the first ring. “We tracked the van. No plates. Abandoned in Queens. Torched.”Of course it was. “Surveillance?”“Nothing clean. Either they knew the angles or they’ve got someone on the inside feeding them locations.”I let out a breath, slow and steady. My fingers clenched around the glass in my hand, tension humming just beneath my skin.“Pull every camera within a ten-block radius. I want facial recognition run on anyone near that vehicle in the past twenty-four hours.”Rafael was silent for a beat. “Luca, you should tell her what we know. She’s not stupid—”“No,” I cut him off. “She doesn’t need more reasons to lose sleep. Let her plan the damn wedding.”
EMILIO Unknown Location The ice clinked against the side of the glass as I stirred lazily, the amber liquid inside catching the light of the chandelier above. “Status?” I asked, mirroring the same word Morretti was probably spitting into his phone right now. Viktor stood across the room, arms folded, expression sharp. “She was shaken. He’s rattled. Mission accomplished.” A smile tugged at my mouth. “Good.” I rose from the armchair and crossed to the wall of screens, all still frames from different angles—streets, clubs, surveillance feeds. And right in the center, a blurry image of Isadora, caught mid-turn in that little bridal boutique. Fear in her eyes. Vulnerability in her shoulders. It was art. “She didn’t see the blade,” Viktor said. “Just the man. It was enough.” “That was the point,” I murmured. “It was never about hurting her. Not yet. It was about jarring him.” I tapped the screen slowly, the rhythm like a
ISADORALater That DayI didn’t go back to my room. Couldn’t. I needed clarity, not the suffocating silence of silk sheets and locked doors. So I went to the only place that ever made sense when everything else didn’t—the garden. Luca’s mother’s garden, to be exact. It was a piece of serenity tucked between the chaos, the only place in this mansion that hadn’t been touched by blood or secrets.I walked along the stone path, brushing my fingers against the petals of the roses she used to care for. It was ironic, how something so delicate could survive here, in a place built on violence and power plays. Maybe that’s why I liked it—because it reminded me of what I wanted to be. Soft when I chose to be. Sharp when I needed to be.I sat on the stone bench at the edge of the garden, pulling my knees to my chest, letting the wind carry my thoughts. I didn’t hear him approach—not at first—but I felt it. That same tension in the air. That same storm.Luca.He didn’t say anyt
ISADORAThe Next MorningI woke to the faint scent of sandalwood and fire.Luca.Even before my eyes opened, I could feel him—his presence thick in the air, like a storm had passed through and left its electricity behind. The sheets beside me were cool, but the echo of him lingered. A ghost of warmth. A shadow of protection. And danger.I sat up slowly, the silk of my nightgown whispering against my skin as I ran a hand through my hair. The mansion was too still. Like it was holding its breath.Or maybe… like he was.The last few days had been a blur of lace, tastings, flower samples, and dress fittings. Smiles that didn’t quite reach my eyes. Laughter that felt like someone else’s. I’d played the part—I always did—but I wasn’t blind.Luca had changed.There was an edge to him now, sharper than usual. Not the possessive, controlling type that gripped my waist too tightly or growled when someone looked at me too long—no, this was colder. Strategic. Distant.
EMILIO Unknown Location The ice clinked against the side of the glass as I stirred lazily, the amber liquid inside catching the light of the chandelier above. “Status?” I asked, mirroring the same word Morretti was probably spitting into his phone right now. Viktor stood across the room, arms folded, expression sharp. “She was shaken. He’s rattled. Mission accomplished.” A smile tugged at my mouth. “Good.” I rose from the armchair and crossed to the wall of screens, all still frames from different angles—streets, clubs, surveillance feeds. And right in the center, a blurry image of Isadora, caught mid-turn in that little bridal boutique. Fear in her eyes. Vulnerability in her shoulders. It was art. “She didn’t see the blade,” Viktor said. “Just the man. It was enough.” “That was the point,” I murmured. “It was never about hurting her. Not yet. It was about jarring him.” I tapped the screen slowly, the rhythm like a
LUCAAn Hour LaterI watched her disappear down the hall with a flicker of a smile on her lips. A rare one. One I hadn’t seen in too long.God, I missed that smile.The moment she turned the corner, I was already pulling my phone from my pocket.“Status?” I asked, voice low.Rafael answered on the first ring. “We tracked the van. No plates. Abandoned in Queens. Torched.”Of course it was. “Surveillance?”“Nothing clean. Either they knew the angles or they’ve got someone on the inside feeding them locations.”I let out a breath, slow and steady. My fingers clenched around the glass in my hand, tension humming just beneath my skin.“Pull every camera within a ten-block radius. I want facial recognition run on anyone near that vehicle in the past twenty-four hours.”Rafael was silent for a beat. “Luca, you should tell her what we know. She’s not stupid—”“No,” I cut him off. “She doesn’t need more reasons to lose sleep. Let her plan the damn wedding.”
LUCAThe Next MorningThe storm inside me hadn’t passed. It had simply settled into a quiet rage, one that hummed beneath my skin like a loaded gun. I stood by the window in my office, watching the sun claw its way up through the skyline, wondering how the hell it had come to this.Emilio. That name was starting to rot in my brain. I should’ve seen him coming. I should’ve anticipated the move, the breach. The moment I saw the fear in Isadora’s eyes, I knew I’d failed. And failure? That’s not something I wear lightly.She was right. She always is when it comes to the things I don’t want to admit. I’d been so obsessed with shielding her, watching her every move, preparing for every threat—except the one that slipped right past us. And she’d seen it clearer than I had: maybe she wasn’t the real target. Maybe I was.But fuck, if I’m the target, then fine. Let them come. I can take it. I’ve taken worse. What I can’t take? Watching her unravel, feeling that grief eating her
ISADORA “I mean,” I continued, my voice tightening with each word, “what if it’s not me they want? What if they’re after you? What if Emilio’s plan is bigger than just hurting me? Maybe I’m just the distraction.” I saw the shift in him, but it wasn’t shock. It was something else—an understanding. A knowing. “I thought I’d made that clear,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was speaking to himself. “You’re always the first to be in danger because they know what you mean to me. But I’ve never thought you were the ultimate target.” My chest tightened at the realization. I wanted to argue, but the truth was, he already knew. He’d already thought of it. He always thought of everything. “You always think about me,” I murmured, my voice cracking slightly, “but you never think about yourself. About what could happen to you.” He stepped closer, but this time there was no anger in his movement. Just an unsettling calm. “You don’t get it, Isador
ISADORAThe tension in the house was suffocating. Luca hadn’t spoken much since last night, but I could feel his presence—watchful, calculating. He was always in control, but now? Now he was something else entirely. A storm waiting to break.I sat in the library, pretending to read while my mind ran in circles. Emilio. The name had latched onto my thoughts, sinking its claws in, refusing to let go. He had sent someone to me. He had found me. I was supposed to be safe under Luca’s protection, yet a stranger had slipped past his security like it was nothing.A sharp knock at the door made me jump.Laura stepped in, eyes scanning me carefully before shutting the door behind her. “You okay?”I sighed, closing the book I wasn’t actually reading. “I don’t know.”She sat on the armrest of my chair, crossing her arms. “Luca is losing his mind over this.”I snorted. “Yeah, I gathered that much.”“Have you spoken to him?”I shook my head. “Not since last night. He ju
LUCAThe moment Marco left, I poured myself a drink, but it did nothing to settle the fire burning in my chest. My mind was already running through every possibility, every name that could be responsible for this betrayal.A fucking mole.Someone close. Someone who had access. Someone who knew too much.I needed to be careful. If I made the wrong move, they’d spook, and we’d lose our one chance to track this bastard back to Emilio.My fingers flexed around the glass before I tossed back the whiskey, the burn doing nothing to temper my rage.I pulled out my phone again and dialed Bianca.She answered on the first ring.“Luca.”“Where are you?” I asked, skipping the pleasantries.There was a pause, then, “My office.”“Stay there. I’m coming.”I didn’t wait for her response before I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.---BIANCA’S OFFICEBianca looked up as I stormed in, her eyes narrowing at my expression. “This isn’t a social visit
LUCAThe moment Isadora stepped through the door, I knew something was wrong.She wasn’t the type to shrink, to tremble, but there was something different about the way she held herself—rigid, controlled, like she was keeping herself from unraveling.Laura was right behind her, her face tight with unease, which only made my pulse hammer harder.I pushed off the desk, my full attention on Isadora. "What happened?"She exhaled sharply, her gaze locked onto mine. "Someone approached me at the boutique."Every muscle in my body went rigid.I crossed the room in three strides, stopping just inches from her. "Who?"She shook her head. "I don’t know. I didn’t recognize him. But he knew my name, Luca. He got into the dressing room—"I snapped.My jaw clenched so hard I could feel the grind of my teeth, my hands fisting at my sides to keep from breaking something.I turned to Marco, who had followed them inside. "Where the fuck were you?"His face was tight