He looks at us for a long moment, at Isabella in my arms, at the way we're holding each other, and something complicated moves across his face.
"We need to talk," he says quietly. "Both of you. Now."
Isabella pulls back and wipes her eyes. "What happened? With Vittorio?"
"That's what we need to discuss." Matteo's face is grim. "Because his death just made everything significantly more complicated."
We follow him to his study and he closes the door and stands behind his desk with his hands flat on the surface.
"Salvatore is going to see this as an act of war," he says without preamble. "His son died on our operation. It doesn't matter that we were rescuing both him and Isabella. It doesn't matter that the O'Rourkes killed him. All that matters is that Vittorio is dead and we were responsible for him."
"What does that mean?" Isabella asks.
"It means war is coming. The De Lucas will demand restitution. Blood for blood. And without the alliance—" He stops. "Without another way to secure peace, we're looking at open conflict."
He looks at me.
"You saved her today," he says quietly. "You led us in. You got her out. You killed Killian O'Rourke. You did everything I asked and more."
I wait.
"But Vittorio's death changes everything. The political cost—" He shakes his head. "I don't know if I can protect both of you from what's coming."
Isabella stands. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that the O'Rourkes are weakened but not destroyed. Declan is dead but his organization still exists. And now the De Lucas want blood." He looks between us. "I'm saying that rescuing you might have just started a war we can't win."
The silence that follows is heavy and terrible.
Isabella's hand finds mine and squeezes.
"We'll figure it out," I say quietly. "Whatever comes next, we'll handle it."
Matteo looks at our joined hands and something in his expression softens slightly.
"Yeah," he says. "We will."
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
ISABELLA
I didn't sleep last night.
Neither did Enzo.
We spent the night in his room—the guest room Matteo assigned him after the rescue because apparently kicking him out permanently became complicated when he saved my life—and we just lay there in the dark holding each other.
Not talking. Not sleeping. Just existing in the same space and breathing and being alive.
"You okay?" Enzo asks quietly into the darkness.
"No. But I will be."
His arms tighten around me. "You’re okay."
"You can’t leave me again, Enzo."
"I'm here," he confirms quietly. "I'm not going anywhere. Whatever Matteo decides today, whatever happens next, I'm not leaving you again."
