FIVE

IZZY

I stared at the contract document in front of me, my grip on my pen tightening.

"You're going to burn a hole into the paper," Luca said, and I looked up at him.

We were both in his study, seated on opposite sides of his desk. I still couldn't help but worry about the message I'd received earlier.

"Is there a reason why you're doing this?" I asked, and he leaned back on his seat, a blank expression on his face.

"I thought we agreed not to pry into each other's private life," he droned, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"It's not fair. You know too much about me," I snapped.

He stared at me for a while. Then he spoke.

"It's similar to yours. I need a wife if I'm to take over my father's company," he replied, and I frowned, unconvinced.

"You look more like you belong in the underground business," I muttered, and he smirked.

"You think so? Well, if you’re having second thoughts, now would be the time to walk away."

"What?" I frowned.

Luca leaned forward, his heated gaze fixed on me.

"If you want any chance against Heath and his sister, you'll need me. Back out now, and you’ll lose everything."

"Only one year, and that's it," I said, and he gestured at the contract.

"Go ahead."

We both signed the contract, and Luca rose to his feet, his heated gaze fixed on me.

"Our wedding's in two days. You don't have to worry about that. It will be done somewhere private," he said, and I stood up, following him out of his study.

"I have an important meeting to attend to. Like I said before, you can call me if you're bored," he said, and I scoffed, watching him walk away.

....

I paced back and forth, tensed. A couple of hours had passed since Luca left for his meeting. I'd been awaiting an important phone call for the past few hours.

My phone suddenly rang out, and I picked up the call right away. Earlier, I'd asked Maxine to look into Luca's identity. Since she was a journalist, I was sure I could count on her.

"Did you find out anything?" I asked and she heaved a sigh.

"Honey, this man is bad news," Max replied, her voice laced with concern.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He's a member of the strongest Mafia gang in New York right now. He's not just a member, though. There are rumours about him being next in line for the title of the main boss," she stressed.

My stomach churned as my new reality dawned on me. I'd been desperate to get his help, I hadn't thought about the possibility that I'd made an even bigger mistake by engaging myself with him.

"What do I do now?" I breathed.

"You said he asked you to marry you that night at the club. There must've been a reason for it. Find out what he's hiding. I'll call you later, okay?" she said.

"Sure," I muttered, and the line went dead.

With my heart in my throat, I left my room and went in search of his room.

It didn't take long before I found it, and thankfully, it was unlocked.

Blowing out a breath, I made my way into the room, shutting the door behind me. I needed to be quick. I didn't know exactly when he would return.

My chest tightened as I rummaged through his closet, unsure of what I was really looking for.

In my desperate search, I noticed a strange latch on the inside of the wardrobe, hidden among his neatly hung shirts. It looked out of place, suspicious. Without hesitation, I pulled at it, and to my surprise, the wardrobe slid apart, revealing a secret room.

The sight inside made my heart pound even harder. Guns of different sizes lined the walls, the shiny metals glinting.

This was real. Luca was dangerous—more dangerous than I had ever imagined.

Along with a swivel chair, there was a desk in the dimly lit room.

Swallowing hard, I moved closer to the desk and saw a strange document on the desk.

Picking it up, I turned on the flashlight on my phone to examine the document. A gasp of surprise tumbled out of my lips when I realized what the document was.

Divorce papers.

Alongside his name, my name was written in cursive. This document was dated two years before, a few months before I'd slipped into a coma.

A flood of the memories from the past few days rushed back, and my breath caught in my throat.

The way he’d looked at me when we first met, the strange sense of familiarity I couldn’t shake. It all made sense now—yet nothing made sense at all.

My eyes brimmed with tears as the reality of the situation sank in.

Why?

Why was he doing this?

What did he want from me?

My stomach twisted in knots, fear and confusion warring within me.

Why was he getting involved in my business?

The more I thought about it, the more I grew confused.

While I was thinking about this, I almost didn't hear the sound of a door opening.

Luca?

Was he back already?

"Shit," I cursed, wide-eyed.

Panic-stricken, I glanced around the room for a weapon I could defend myself with.

Grabbing the smallest pistol within my range of vision, I rushed out of the room and hurried out his closet.

I could hear his steady footsteps approaching. There was no use running out of the room. He would definitely notice me.

This meant I was left with only one option.

Confrontation.

Sweat slid down my spine as I waited by the door, preparing myself to confront him. With each step he took towards his bedroom, my anxiety skyrocketed. And despite how much I tried to convince myself that I was not afraid of him or the situation, my hands continued to tremble.

The door finally jerked open, and I flinched, leaning against the wall behind the door. The intoxicating smell of his rich cologne filled the air.

The moment he turned to shut the door, I shuffled from my hiding place and pressed the nozzle of the gun to the small of his back. He barely reacted.

"Put the gun away," he sighed, and I tightened my grip on the gun, gritting my teeth.

There was no doubt now. Luca was not my ally. Lowering my guard at this point would only end badly.

"Do not move," I hissed.

"Do you even know how to use a gun?" He drawled, and a wave of fury rushed through my veins.

"You would be surprised," I spat, cocking the gun.

This time he stiffened.

"What do you want?" He asked slowly, his voice laced with unease.

Good.

"Who the hell are you? You know me, don't you?" I demanded.

"Of course I know you. You're my contract wife--"

"I don't mean that! You knew me long before we met at the club. What do you want from me? Have you been stalking me?" I said, my stomach twisting into knots as I awaited his response.

Would he tell the truth? Or lie to me?

"You're right. I've known you for a pretty long time. And yes, I've been stalking you," he droned, and I froze, my blood running cold in my veins.

"You're my ex-husband," I said, and he turned around to face me, the gun now pointed at his abdomen.

"You figured that out way too quickly," he droned, his jaw tightening.

"What do you want from me?" I demanded, and his gaze darkened.

Suddenly, I could no longer see the man who'd offered to help me. In his place was a deceptive monster.

"Come on now, Izzy. I only want what's mine," he said, and my heart sank.