All Chapters of Bound By Blood: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

My footsteps reverberated throughout the quiet hall as I ran my fingers over the cold iron railing. I had trembling fingers. The lavender scent of the air was a far cry from the fear that was rising inside of me. Important always meant terrible in my household when my father called me to his office—he never called unless absolutely necessary. I had a feeling something wasn't right.The last time I was called, it was to let me know that my older brother, Dante, was being sent to America. And just like that, he was gone. I haven't seen him since.Then it was my turn.My heart hammered so loudly that I could barely hear my own thoughts as I stared at the heavy oak door. I was aware in my heart that I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side, but I had a gut feeling that something negative was there. I prepared myself and knocked, barely creating a sound that was more than a whisper in the silence.The cold, commanding voice inside said, "Entra."I swung and shoved the door op

As requested, I spent the night in Ricci's residence.I didn't get any sleep.Not even a second.One of the anonymous men in black suits led me to a guest room after I left the study, but the term "guest room" seemed a joke. It resembled a prison cell more than anything else, complete with polished wood and silk blankets. I remained there for what seemed like hours, gazing out the window into the wide, icy blackness outside the estate walls, as the door clicked shut behind me.The sensation of his eyes on me persisted. Leonardo had already gauged my value based on the way he had regarded me. As if I were a piece in whatever perverse game he was engaged in.Perhaps I was.I was startled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. I whirled, anticipating one of Leonardo's goons, or worse, Leonardo himself, and my heart jumped into my throat. But it was a woman when the door opened. Her dark hair had silver strands, and her eyes were keen and perceptive; she was older, perhaps in her fiftie

I could feel the weight of it all as soon as I entered the restaurant. The sound of glasses clinking and soft conversation blended with the aroma of roasted garlic and herbs. It was meant to be familiar and reassuring. But it felt like a prison tonight. The shiver that was creeping up my spine was too strong for the cozy glow of the candlelight.I saw Leonardo already seated at the table with my father. Wearing his typical fitted suit, my father appeared very relaxed, as though this were just another informal family meal. He took a slow, peaceful sip of his wine. However, Leonardo was another matter.He sat there like a king on his throne, exuding power in every subtle movement. He didn’t have to say a word, but his presence alone commanded the room. The waiters even appeared to be more careful around him, as if they were worried about taking a wrong step. The whole place seemed to give way to his will. With every step becoming more difficult, I forced myself to move in the direction o

The ballroom had gone silent, hundreds of eyes watching the confrontation. Salvatore's face flushed with humiliation and rage, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable."Perfectly," he spat, backing away. "Enjoy your wedding, Ricci."As Salvatore retreated, conversation gradually resumed around them. Isabella realized she had been holding her breath and exhaled slowly, trying to process what had just happened. Leonard had defended her—not as a possession being threatened, but as a person being disrespected. The distinction was small but significant.Leonard turned to her, his dark eyes searching her face. "Are you alright?""Yes," she answered, surprised to find it wasn't entirely a lie. "Who was that?""Salvatore Conti. He controls most of the shipping routes along the southern coast." Leonard's hand came to rest at the small of her back again, guiding her toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. "We have... history. He's testing boundaries.""Using me," Isabella said flatly.Leonar

Isabella woke to sunlight streaming through partially opened curtains and an empty space beside her. The sheets on Leonard's side were cool to the touch; he had been gone for some time. A note rested on his pillow, written in a strong, precise hand:{Business calls early. Breakfast on the terrace at 9. Don't be late.}She glanced at the elegant clock on the bedside table: 8:17. Just enough time to shower and dress. As she rose, she noticed a small box that hadn't been there the night before, wrapped in silver paper with no bow or card. Inside was a platinum bracelet, delicate but substantial, set with emeralds that matched her eyes. Not diamonds—the traditional choice—but something more distinct, more specific to her.A claim, not a gift. A beautiful shackle.Isabella slipped it onto her wrist regardless, admiring how the stones caught the light. If this was to be her life, she would embrace its luxuries while searching for its weaknesses. She would learn the rules of Leonard's world