Luca’s attention stayed on Isabella. “You think this is about control,” he said.
“It is,” she insisted, “and you seem to need all the control. But I won’t let you control me.”
“No,” he corrected. “It’s about survival.”
“I’ve survived just fine without you.”
His gaze sharpened. “Not in my world, you haven’t.”
Another beat of silence, and then she took a step forward, closing the distance between them this time. Not him—her. “I’m not part of your world,” she said, voice low but steady.
Luca looked down at her. He could see the defiance and fire in her eyes. The way she didn’t back down—even when every instinct should be telling her to. “You’re a part of it now,” he said. “You’ll be my wife soon, and that makes you a part of my world.
“And I can walk back out,” she insisted.
“No,” he said quietly. “You can’t.” Something flickered in her eyes then. Not fear, not exactly, but something closer to realization. That was good because she needed to start understanding exactly where she stood and who she was dealing with.
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I already did,” he said. Her breath caught again. This time, he didn’t pretend not to notice.
Dante’s voice cut in. “They’re here.” Two black SUVs rolled up to the curb, engines low, windows tinted. Doors opened almost immediately, men stepped out—his men—moving with quiet efficiency.
Luca didn’t break eye contact with Isabella. “Get in the car.”
“No,” she breathed. He exhaled slowly, like he was giving her one last chance to make this easy, but she didn’t take it. Of course, she didn’t.
He stepped forward as his hand closed around her wrist—firm and unyielding. Heat shot up his arm at the contact—unexpected and unwelcome, but he ignored it.
“You can fight me on this,” he said, voice low enough that only she could hear, “or you can walk to that car on your own.” Her pulse jumped beneath his fingers. He felt it.
“And if I don’t?” she challenged. His grip tightened—just enough.
“Then I carry you,” he said. Her eyes flashed, and he knew that he had her attention.
“Try it,” she dared him. For a second—just one—something dark and almost amused flickered through him. She really had no idea who she was dealing with, but she was about to learn. Instead of lifting her, though, he leaned in. Close enough that his mouth was right next to her ear.
“You’re not the only one asking questions tonight,” he murmured. “I want to know who thought they could take you off my street without consequences.” Her breath hitched. “And I’ll find out,” he continued. “But first, I need to make sure you’re somewhere they can’t touch you.” He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again. “Get in the car,” he ordered.
This time, she hesitated, but he could see the moment that she decided to submit. It wasn’t surrender, but calculation as she was trying to figure out her next move. She was smart—very smart, and he was running out of patience.
Finally, she yanked her wrist free from his grip and turned sharply, stalking toward the SUV. Luca watched her go, something tight in his chest loosening just slightly. She climbed in without another word, slamming the door behind her.
Dante let out a quiet breath beside him. “She’s going to be a problem.”
Luca’s gaze stayed on the vehicle. “Yeah,” he said, not denying it, deciding that it was best not to avoid the truth.He accepted it because problems could be managed, even controlled. Problems could be eliminated. But this didn’t feel like a problem. It felt like something else entirely. Something he didn’t have a name for yet, and that made it dangerous.
Luca moved toward the second SUV, sliding into the back seat as the convoy pulled away from the curb. The city blurred past the window, lights streaking against the glass, but his focus wasn’t on New York. It was on the woman sitting in the car ahead of him—Isabella Romano. She was his future wife, his biggest risk, and the one variable he couldn’t predict.
Luca leaned back slightly, his expression hardening as his phone buzzed in his hand. It was a message from an unknown number, with just three words:You should’ve let her go.Luca stared at the screen for a long second, and then he smiled. He knew that it was cold and deadly.
“Yeah,” he murmured to himself. “That’s not happening.” Because whoever sent that message had just made a mistake. A fatal one, and Luca Camorra didn’t just respond to threats. He ended them.
Isabella
The ride was too quiet. That was the first thing Isabella noticed. Not the luxury of the SUV. Not the armed men in the front seat. Not even the fact that she was being escorted like something valuable—or dangerous. It was the silence—heavy, controlled, and intentional.
She sat rigid in the back seat, staring out the window as the city blurred past, her reflection faint in the glass. Her dark hair was a mess, her skin was pale, and her eyes looked sharper now than they had a few hours ago.
