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But when I check behind the headboard, my fingers brush against paper. A note, folded and tucked into a crevice where the wood meets the wall. Exactly where I taught her to hide messages during our covert planning sessions.

My heart pounds as I unfold it. The handwriting isn’t hers.

I know who you are, brother. Come alone to the old Ricci warehouse if you want to see her alive.

—Luca

Brother.

The word hits me like a physical blow. He knows. Somehow, Luca knows I’m his half-brother. Knows I’m the son Giancarlo tried to erase from existence.

And he has Isadora. But he only knows the half of it.

The paper crumples in my fist as rage and fear war within me. Rage at Luca for touching what’s mine. Fear for what he might do to her—what he might already have done.

My phone vibrates again. Another unknown number. I answer with deadly calm.

“Where is she?”

“Hello to you too, brother.” Luca’s voice, smug and cold, sends murderous intent surging through me. “She’s quite a prize, isn’t she? Fiery. Stubborn. Tastes like expensive champagne and rebellion.”

“If you’ve touched her—” My voice drops to a register I barely recognize.

“What? Will you kill me? Come now, Stefano. Or do you prefer Alessio? We have so much to discuss, brother to brother.”

“Let her go,” I demand. “This is between us.”

“Is it? Because her diary suggests otherwise. Quite detailed, those entries. Especially about your... encounters.”

The implication makes my blood boil. “Tell me where. Now.”

“The warehouse. Midnight tomorrow. Come alone, or I’ll send her back to our father in pieces.”

“Tomorrow?” My grip tightens on the phone. “That’s too long.”

“I need time with my bride, brother. To... get acquainted properly.”

The threat in his words makes something snap inside me. When I speak again, my voice is pure ice.

“You won’t see me coming, Luca. But I promise you this—when I find you, you’ll beg for our father’s mercy before I’m done.”

His laughter cuts off as I end the call, already moving toward the door. I need to get out before the guard rotation changes, I need to regroup with Vittorio and I need to find that warehouse and turn it into Luca’s grave.

But as I slip back through the estate’s shadows, one truth burns brighter than vengeance, brighter than twenty years of planning, brighter than the identity I’ve built and the ghost I’ve become:

Isadora.

She is no longer just part of the plan. She is the plan. The only thing that matters now.

I will burn this whole fucking world to the ground to get her back. And God help anyone who stands in my way.

Including that bastard Luca. Especially him.

19

Isadora

Pain throbs behind my eyes as consciousness creeps back, unwelcome and disorienting. The coppery taste of blood lingers on my lip, and my wrists burn where rope bites into flesh. I force my eyes open to the darkness, blinking until shapes emerge from the shadows.