Dante’s brows pulled together slightly. “He’d be safer here.”
“Yeah, but Isabella might not be,” Luca said. “It won’t be safe for the family either.” Because if Antonio Romano woke up inside Camorra territory? That would spark something neitherfamily could contain. “No,” Luca repeated. “We move him somewhere neutral. Some place quiet and controlled.”
Dante nodded. “Got it.”
“What about her?” Dante asked. Luca didn’t need to give his second in command any clarification about his future wife. He wanted to tell him that she wasn’t any of his concern, but if he was going to keep her safe, he’d need Dante’s help.
“She stays,” Luca said.
“You want us to keep her locked down?” Dante asked.
Luca thought about keeping her locked in her room. It was going to piss Isabella off, but it was for her own safety. If he knew where she was, she’d be easier to protect. “Yes.”
Dante studied him for a second.
“You’re tightening the net.”
“I’m closing the fucking net,” Luca growled.
“She’s not going to like that,” Dante warned. He didn’t give a fuck if she liked it or not. His only consideration in all of this was keeping his future wife safe.
Luca’s mouth curved faintly. “She doesn’t have to like it. Isabella's liking my plan isn’t the goal—her surviving is.” Dante nodded and turned to leave. “Dante.”
He stopped and looked back at Luca. “Yeah, boss?”
“Double the internal rotations,” Luca said. “I don’t want the same faces on her for more than six hours.”
Dante’s brows lifted slightly. “Worried about leaks?” he asked.
“Always,” Luca admitted.
Dante gave a curt nod. “I’ll handle it.” The door shut behind him, and silence returned. But it wouldn’t last, because Luca could feel it—the shift, the pull, and the awareness that she was still in his house. She was still under his roof, and still his. He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. That thought needed to stop, now. Because that was how men mademistakes, and Luca didn’t make mistakes—not anymore. Not after everything it had cost him.
He pushed off the desk and headed for the door. He was going to check on Isabella, and then, hopefully, get some much-needed shut-eye. He had been up for almost forty-eight hours straight, and he was exhausted. Maybe some sleep would put everything happening with Isabella into perspective. Maybe then, he’d stop thinking about her as his.
She wasn’t in her room—of course, she wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if that made him want to laugh or rage. Luca moved through the house without slowing, his steps quiet but deliberate. He checked the living room first, finding it empty. Then, he tried the kitchen, where he found Isabella standing at the counter, with her hands braced against the marble, staring down at nothing. She was thinking—always thinking. He was sure that she was trying to figure out a way out of this mess, but he worried that she was plotting her escape instead.
“You’re not supposed to be down here,” he growled, trying to catch his breath.
She didn’t jump at his words or turn to look at him. “I figured that staying locked in my room was more of a suggestion.”
“It wasn’t,” he countered. She turned to face him, slowly.
“I’m not hiding,” she said. “I’m still in your house, and still under lock and key.”
“I know,” he breathed. She was right—she hadn’t run, and that was something. But she wasn’t where he expected her to be, and that took away some of his tightly held control.
“Then stop acting like I need to stay locked up in my room,” she insisted. “I promised that I won’t leave, and I keep my word, Luca.”
He stepped into the room, closing the distance just enough to make his presence unavoidable. “You being at my club,” he said, “is what got you targeted. If you’re in your room, I can keep an eye on you better.”
“No,” she corrected. “Being at your club had nothing to do with the kidnapping attempt. My family did that. They were the ones who targeted me.”
Luca studied her carefully, and she shifted restlessly. “Serge has been working with the Russians,” he said.
Her expression didn’t change, but her grip on the counter tightened. “I figured,” she whispered.
“You figured,” he repeated.
