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“Marco Bianchi.” Fabrizio raises his glass in a mock toast. “I was beginning to think you’d never find us. Though I must say, you took significantly longer than I expected. Losing your touch?”

I ignore him completely, my eyes fixed on Aria. “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head slightly, her face a mask of complex emotions I can’t begin to decipher. Relief? Fear? Hatred? All I know is that she’s alive, meeting my gaze without flinching.

“I’m fine,” she says, her voice steadier than I expected.

More rage floods my system, threatening to overwhelm my control. My finger tightens on the trigger a fraction of an inch.

“Now, now,” Fabrizio tuts, setting down his glass with deliberate care. “Let’s all behave like civilized people, shall we? I merely wanted a conversation with you, Marco. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You kidnapped my wife for a conversation?” My voice emerges as a low growl. “You’re either suicidal or more delusional than I thought.”

“Your wife.” Fabrizio’s lips curve into a poisonous smile as he rises, positioning himself directly between me and Aria. “Interesting choice of words, considering the circumstances of your… union.”

Nicolo edges into position behind me, his weapon trained on Fabrizio. Two more of my men flank the doorway, creating a defensive perimeter. I advance slowly, my body coiled tight as a spring.

“Step aside,” I command. “She leaves with me. Now.”

“So eager.” Fabrizio clicks his tongue against his teeth. “But we have so much to discuss. Such as how breaking too many rules for one woman might cause problems in your world. Especially a woman with such… complicated family connections.”

I feel rather than see Aria tense behind him, her eyes darting between us.

“The DeLuca connection,” Fabrizio continues, clearly relishing the moment. “It’s quite the scandal, isn’t it? The son of Salvatore Bianchi married to the daughter of Emilio DeLuca. The very family your father systematically destroyed.”

My jaw clenches so tight I can feel a muscle jump in my cheek. “This isn’t the time or place.”

“On the contrary.” Fabrizio takes a step toward me. “This is exactly the time and place. Your wife deserves to know everything, doesn’t she? About how your father betrayed her family. About how he was their trusted ally, their friend, before he decided power was more valuable than loyalty.”

I catch a glimpse of Aria’s face over Fabrizio’s shoulder—pain etched into every line of her beautiful features. The details of what happened are clearly new to her, and I can see how deeply it cuts. Every word Fabrizio utters feels like another wound driving into her heart.

“Did Marco tell you how it happened, Aria?” Fabrizio’s voice drops, heavy with bitterness as he turns to face her. “How Salvatore wormed his way into your father’s confidence, playing the loyal ally while plotting his downfall? How he earned that trust—only to shatter it with a betrayal so savage, so unforgivable, it still haunts the bloodlines? Your aunt Teresa barely escaped with you and your sister, clutching you like a lifeline, while the Bianchi men tore through the rest—cold, ruthless, merciless. Do you understand what that means? The weight of what was taken from you?”

“Stop,” I say quietly. Part of me knows she needs to hear this—needs to know the whole truth, not just the fragments she’s pieced together.

“And now Salvatore hunts for you again.” Fabrizio turns back to me, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph. “While his son plays house with one of the very women he wants dead. Tell me, Marco, does Daddy know who you’ve been fucking?”

The taunt snaps something loose inside me. My control shatters like glass. I lunge forward, gun forgotten as my hands reach for Fabrizio’s throat.

The room explodes into chaos. Gunshots ring out from the doorway as my men clash with guards rushing in. Nicolo’s voice cuts through the noise, shouting for me to stand down. Crystal shatters as Fabrizio stumbles back, knocking over a lamp.

I’m about to lunge for him again when he rolls over, and the next thing I know, he has Aria in his grip.

“Enough!” Fabrizio shouts above the chaos, pressing the barrel against Aria’s temple. My blood turns to ice water in my veins as everyone in the room freezes.

“Tell your men to drop their weapons,” he pants, his composure finally cracking. “Or I put a bullet in her pretty head right now.”

I raise my hand, signaling my men to comply. Weapons clatter to the floor around us. Aria stands rigid against Fabrizio, her eyes locked with mine.

“Let her go,” I say, my voice deadly quiet. “Let her go, and maybe you walk out of here alive.”

Fabrizio laughs, a sharp, brittle sound. “You’re not in a position to make threats, Bianchi. I hold all the cards here.” He drags Aria toward the door, using her as a human shield. “We’ll walk out of here together, your wife and I. My men will escort us to a waiting car. You and your soldiers will stay put until we’re clear of the property.”

“And then what?” I ask, playing for time, my mind racing through options. “You know I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth.”

“Perhaps.” Fabrizio shrugs, his confidence returning now that he has the upper hand. “Or perhaps I’ll reach out to your father first.”

Aria’s eyes widen at this, a flash of genuine fear crossing her face for the first time. But beneath it, I see something else—determination. Her body shifts almost imperceptibly, her weight transferring to the balls of her feet.