"We wait. Let things cool down. Make sure Declan doesn't make another move." Matteo's jaw tightens. "Then we proceed with the wedding as planned."
The wedding.
Right.
Because I'm still supposed to marry Vittorio De Luca. Still supposed to seal this alliance. Still supposed to do my duty.
"When?" My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears.
"A few weeks. Maybe a month. Salvatore wants to make sure security is airtight before we try again."
A month. Four weeks stuck in this cabin with Enzo.
Four weeks of pretending I don't notice him, of building walls, of fighting this sick pull I feel every time he's in the same room.
I'm going to lose my damned mind.
"Understood." Enzo's voice is flat. "We'll stay here until you give the all clear."
Matteo nods. "Keep her safe, Enzo."
"Always."
The word lands different, like a promise, like it means something.
Stop reading into things. He's doing his job. That's all.
Matteo ends the call. The screen goes black. I set the phone down and stare at it.
A month.
"Isabella—"
My phone buzzes again. A text this time.
Unknown number.
I unlock the screen and open the message. Everything inside me goes cold.
It's a photo. Old. Grainy. Taken on a phone camera in low light.
Me. Sitting in a corner of a concrete room with my knees pulled to my chest, my face streaked with tears.
The basement.
Below the photo, a message:
Miss your happy place? Don't worry. You'll be back soon.
The phone slips from my hands.
No.
No, no, no, no.
I grab it before it hits the floor, my hands shaking so hard I can barely hold it.
"Isabella?"
