Tears blur my vision again and I wipe them away angrily.
"What does Matteo want?"
"He needs to talk to you. Something came up with the De Lucas and—" He pauses. "You should probably change first. And maybe wash your face."
"I don't care what I look like."
"I know you don't. But they're downstairs. Salvatore and Vittorio. And you might care about looking strong in front of them even if you don't care about anything else right now."
The words land with unexpected weight.
The De Lucas are here.
Which means something bad happened. Something bad enough that Salvatore came to the compound in person instead of calling.
"Give me fifteen minutes," I say quietly.
He nods, takes a step back and I close the door.
I move on autopilot, stripping off my clothes, getting in the shower, standing under the water and letting it run hot until my skin turns pink. I wash my hair, scrub my face, try to make myself look like a person instead of a wreck.
When I get out I dry off and find clean clothes, black jeans and a simple top, nothing fancy but presentable. I pull my hair back wet and look at myself in the mirror.
I look tired. Hollow. Like something vital has been scooped out and the shell is all that's left.
But I look functional.
Good enough.
I open the door and Dante is still waiting.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Let’s go." I nod.
We walk through the house in silence and with every step my dread builds, settling heavy in my stomach, because Dante's face is too carefully neutral, the house is too quiet and something is very wrong.
When we reach Matteo's study I can hear voices inside.
Raised voices.
Angry voices.
Dante opens the door without knocking and we step inside and the scene that greets me makes my breath catch.
Matteo is behind his desk with his arms crossed and his face carved from stone. Salvatore De Luca is standing in front of the desk with Vittorio beside him, both of them turn when we enter and the expressions on their faces make my skin crawl.
Fury. Disgust. Cold calculation.
"Isabella." Salvatore's voice is polite ice. "How good of you to join us."
I don't respond, just move to stand beside Matteo's desk, and Dante positions himself near the door, watching.
"What's going on?" I ask Matteo.
"Show her," Salvatore says before Matteo can answer.
Matteo's jaw tightens as Vittorio turns his laptop around on the desk.
