Page 19

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.

Concrete walls. Metal pipes exposed along the ceiling. The musty scent of abandonment mingled with sawdust and gasoline.

Not the De Angelis estate. Not anywhere I recognize.

Memory returns in fragments—Carmela’s panicked face at Stefano’s car window, the missing diary, my decision to return to the mansion to find it. Then Luca’s face, twisted with rage, waiting in my bedroom. The sharp sting of a needle in my neck before darkness claimed me.

I test my restraints, wincing as the rough rope scrapes raw skin. My ankles are likewise bound to the metal chair beneath me. Professional work—no amateur knots here.

“Finally awake, cara?” Luca’s voice slides from the shadows beyond my limited vision.

I don’t flinch, don’t give him the satisfaction. “Drugging your bride the night before your wedding? Not very romantic, Luca.”

His laugh—low and cruel—raises goosebumps along my arms. “I think we’re past pretending this was ever about romance.” He steps into view, immaculately dressed despite the grimy surroundings. Only the wild light in his eyes betrays his instability.

In his hand, he holds my diary—the small leather-bound book where I stupidly documented everything. My heart sinks, but I keep my expression neutral.

“Your private thoughts make for fascinating reading,” he says, flipping through pages with theatrical casualness. “Especially the parts about fucking my father’s enforcer. Or should I say... my half-brother?”

Ice floods my veins. He knows. God, he knows everything.

“What do you want?” I keep my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my throat.

“Direct, as always.” Luca circles behind me, his proximity making my skin crawl. His fingers brush my hair from my shoulder, lingering against my neck. “One of the things I’ve always admired about you, Isadora. No games. Unlike my dear long-lost brother.”

“Don’t touch me,” I say, each word sharp as broken glass.

He laughs again but withdraws his hand. “You didn’t mind Stefano touching you, did you? In club bathrooms, his bedroom, his car...” His voice hardens. “Quite the devoted fiancée.”

“We both know this marriage was never about devotion,” I counter, buying time as I scan my surroundings for anything useful. “Just business. Power. Control.”

“True.” Luca moves to face me again, leaning against a rusty metal table. “And yet, here you are, conspiring with Giancarlo’s forgotten son to destroy both our families. Naughty girl.”

A chill runs through me at his casual tone. Angry Luca is dangerous, but calm Luca is lethal.

“How did you find out?” I ask, curiosity momentarily overriding caution. “About Stefano, I mean.”

His smile is all teeth, no warmth. “I’ve known for years. Did you think Giancarlo could keep such a secret forever?” He shakes his head. “My mother told me on my fifteenth birthday—a gift to ensure I’d never fully trust my father.”

Understanding dawns, sharp and unexpected. “You’ve been planning your own move against Giancarlo.”

“Smart girl.” Luca’s eyes glitter with approval. “Yes, I’ve waited patiently for the right moment. And then along comes my brother, back from the dead with his own revenge plot.” He laughs, the sound echoing off concrete walls. “Perfect timing, really. His revenge provides excellent cover for my coup.”

My mind races through implications. If Luca has known Stefano’s identity all along, has he been manipulating events from the shadows? Was our shipment sabotage playing right into his hands?

“You want to use his revenge as cover for your own takeover,” I say, the pieces falling into place. “Let Stefano expose Giancarlo, then step in to ‘save’ the organization.”

“And with the De Angelis princess as my bride, I’d control both families.” His smile widens. “Your father would have no choice but to accept the new arrangement once Giancarlo falls.”

Bile rises in my throat at the calculated cruelty of it. “Why tell me this? Why not just kill me?”

“Because I’m offering you a choice.” Luca pushes away from the table, approaching slowly. “Marry me—willingly this time. Help me take over both families. Be the queen you were born to be.” His voice drops lower. “Or watch Stefano die when he comes to rescue you. And he will come. Men like him always do.”

The threat hangs between us, heavy with certainty. He’s right—Stefano will come for me. The fierce protectiveness I’ve seen in his amber eyes, the possessive way his hands grip my body, the promises whispered against my skin in darkness—he’ll tear apart heaven and earth to find me.

And Luca is counting on it.

“You underestimate him,” I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “He’s survived twenty years as a ghost. You think your trap will hold him?”

A flash of irritation crosses Luca’s features. “I think twenty years of obsession have made him careless. Especially when it comes to you.”

His words strike a nerve because they contain a grain of truth. The heat between Stefano and me has been reckless from the start—in club bathrooms, garden greenhouses, his childhood apartment. Each encounter more desperate than the last, passion overriding caution.

“I need time to think,” I say, not having to fake the confusion in my voice. “This is... a lot to process.”

Luca studies me, calculation in every line of his face. “Of course. You have until your beloved ghost arrives.” He checks his watch. “I’ve given him until midnight tomorrow, though I expect him much sooner.”

Less than twenty-four hours. Not much time to formulate an escape plan.

“Could I at least have some water?” I ask, making my voice smaller, more vulnerable. “And maybe... loosen these ropes? They’re cutting into my skin.”

His lips curve in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Playing the damsel now, Isadora? It doesn’t suit you.” But he moves to a small refrigerator in the corner, retrieving a bottle of water. “I prefer your fire. It’s what will make breaking you so satisfying.”

He approaches with the water, unscrewing the cap and holding it to my lips. I drink greedily, ignoring the humiliation of being fed like a child. Hydration matters more than pride right now.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, watching me drink, “I almost envy my brother. Having you look at him the way you never looked at me.” His free hand brushes my cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “So much passion wasted on a dead man walking.”

I jerk away from his touch, water spilling down my chin. “Stefano is twice the man you’ll ever be.”

His expression darkens. “And yet, I’m the one who holds your life in my hands.” He recaps the water bottle, setting it just out of my reach. “Think about my offer, cara. A throne beside me, or a grave beside him. Your choice.”

As he walks toward the door, I call out, “Why did you really rush the wedding? Was it because of the shipment, or because you knew what we were planning?”

Luca pauses, looking back with a smile that chills me to the bone. “Let’s just say your diary confirmed what I already suspected. The diary was quite... detailed about your activities with my brother. Especially that night in his bedroom.”

Heat floods my face as I realize what he’s read—every intimate moment, every touch, every whispered confession. The violation makes me nauseous.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he says with mock concern. “I have preparations to make for our family reunion.”

The door closes behind him with an ominous clang, and I hear the distinctive click of a heavy lock engaging.

Alone in the dim light, I test my restraints again, methodically seeking any weakness. My thoughts turn to Stefano—to amber eyes that see past every mask I’ve worn, to calloused hands that touch me with reverence rather than possession, to the man who offered to abandon twenty years of vengeance just to build a future with me.

Heat pools low in my belly at the memory of his body moving against mine, inside mine, his whispered promise: “I’ll find you, principessa. Always.”

I believe him. But Luca is counting on that too.

Taking a deep breath, I focus on my surroundings with renewed determination. I need to free myself before Stefano walks into Luca’s trap. Need to warn him that his half-brother has been playing both sides all along.

Because I refuse to be the bait that leads him to slaughter. Refuse to be a pawn any longer in games played by Calvino men.

It’s time this De Angelis princess saves herself—and the man she loves.

Even if I have to burn down both our families to do it.