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But the irrational part—the part that’s well fucking damn proud of her, in love with her—refuses to listen.

“Have you forgotten she’s pregnant?” I hiss at Nicolo. “You suggest I cause her harm?”

“Not her,” Nicolo protests. “But?—

Just then, the office door explodes open, cutting him off mid-sentence. My father reaches our side in volcanic rage. He clutches a newspaper in his hand, which he throws across my desk.

“Explain this,” he snarls, meeting my gaze with one of fury.

The headline screams up at me in bold black letters: DELUCA HEIRRESS EMERGES FROM SHADOWS TO RECLAIM FAMILY LEGACY.

Below it, a photograph that stops my heart. Aria, radiant in emerald silk, surrounded by men I recognize as the old guard—families that once bowed to her father’s rule. She looks every inch the queen she was born to be.

The article details her public emergence, her claim to the DeLuca throne, her promise to restore her family’s honor. Every word is a declaration of war against everything my father has built.

“Twenty-five years,” my father whispers, his voice deadly quiet. “Twenty-five years I believed that bloodline was extinct.That I had finally put an end to the DeLuca threat.” His eyes lock on mine, and I see madness flickering in their depths. “Did you know? When you married her. DID YOU KNOW?”

The question hangs in the air like a loaded gun. Nicolo shifts uncomfortably in his peripheral vision, but my focus remains fixed on my father’s face. On the rage building there like a storm ready to break.

“Yes,” I say simply.

He staggers back a step, his face cycling through disbelief, betrayal, and finally, murderous fury.

“You knew,” he breathes. “You knew who she was, and you married her anyway. You brought a DeLuca into my house. Into my family.”

“She’s my wife,” I say, my voice steady as I tell him the one truth I hope will make him see what matters. “And she’s carrying my child.”

If I thought he was angry before, the revelation about the pregnancy sends him over the edge. His face turns purple, veins bulging in his neck as spittle flies from his lips.

“A DeLuca heir!” he roars. “Growing in her womb! You’ve contaminated our bloodline with that poisonous legacy!”

For one terrifying moment, I see Aria in chains. And the child in her belly marked for death. The vision makes my blood run cold.

I’m moving before he finishes the sentence, my hand crushing his windpipe as I slam him against the wall. The newspaper flutters to the floor between us.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” I warn, my voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes hardened killers step back. “Because if you threaten my wife or my child again, father or not, I will end you.”

His eyes bulge, but I see no fear there. Only rage. Only the fanatical certainty of a man who has spent decades believing in his own righteousness.

I release him, stepping back as he gasps for air.

“Bring her in,” he orders, his voice hoarse but unbroken. “Tonight. I want Aria DeLuca in chains before dawn. She will answer for her crimes, and for your sake, I will let her live when she remembers she’s a Bianchi. I will break her till she gets this stupid little idea of power out of her mind. And then, she can return to you.”

“No.”

The word drops between us like a stone into still water, sending ripples of shock through the room. Nicolo inhales sharply, but I keep my eyes locked on my father’s face.

“What did you say?” he whispers.

“I said no.” I straighten to my full height. “She’s my wife. She’s under my protection. And I will kill anyone who tries to harm her.”

He spits on the floor. “She’s turned you against your own blood. Against everything I’ve taught you. Against everything we’ve built together.”

“You built this empire on the bones of her family,” I counter, my voice gaining strength with each word. “On the murder of innocents. Maybe it’s time for it to fall.”

The slap comes so fast I barely see it, his palm cracking against my cheek with enough force to snap my head sideways. But I don’t flinch. Don’t retaliate. I simply turn back to face him, tasting blood where my teeth cut into my inner cheek.

“You ungrateful bastard,” he snarls. “After everything I’ve given you, you choose that DeLuca whore over your own father.”