Men filled the room—Camorra soldiers, Romano remnants, and the kind of neutral players who only stayed neutral until it benefited them not to be. Everyone watched her. They measured her and calculated their next moves. Luca felt it and shut it down with a single look. Their eyes dropped, and postures shifted as they tried to pretend not to notice his new bride, but they understood the message that he was sending out to each of them. Isabella Camorra was off limits now.
Dante moved to the side wall, his arms crossed over his massive chest, silent but ready. The doors closed behind the last arrival with a heavy, final thud. No one was leaving without Luca allowing it.
“Let’s get this over with,” someone muttered from halfway down the table. Luca didn’t even look at him, because he didn’t need to. Silence spread through the room as they waited for him to speak.
Luca straightened slightly; his presence filled the room in a way that didn’t require him to even say a word. But he wanted to make his position perfectly clear to the rest of the men there. He planned on spelling it all out for them, if that was what it took to get them to listen.
“This isn’t a discussion,” he said. His voice wasn’t raised because it didn’t need to be. It carried through the room and cut clean through the silence. The low murmurs died instantly. “I called you here,” he continued, “because there’s been confusion.” His gaze swept the table slowly and deliberately, stopping just long enough on the Romano side to make it clear that he knew exactly who they were, and exactly what they’d done. “About territory,” he finished.
“There has been confusion about alliances, and about her.” He looked back at Isabella, and every eye in the room shifted to her again. Luca stepped slightly to the side—just enough to bring her fully into view. He didn’t want her hidden behind him. Hedidn’t want the rest of the men to see her as secondary or not important in any of this.
“Look at her,” he said. No one moved at first. But they finally did, because when Luca Camorra told you to do something, you did it. Even if it made them uncomfortable or nervous. Hell, they followed his orders, especially when they made them feel those things. Luca’s jaw tightened slightly as he watched them take her in. He hoped that they would burn her face into their memories.
“Her name is Isabella,” he said. “She was Romano.” He paused, letting his words sink in. There was a subtle shift in the room, and he noticed it immediately. “Now?” Luca’s voice dropped slightly. “She’s mine.” The words landed like a gunshot—sharp, final, and unarguable.
A ripple moved through the room—quiet, controlled, but undeniable. Luca let it happen because he wanted them to process what he was saying. He wanted them to feel it in their guts because he wanted no opposition from any of the families.
“Anyone who had plans for her?” he continued. His gaze hardened as he stared each of them down. “Those plans are over.” Everyone in that room knew exactly what he meant. He was leaving no room for negotiations, counteroffers, or second chances.
“She is under Camorra protection,” Luca said, “my protection. You touch her, and you die.”
One of the Romano men shifted in his seat. He was older and way too confident. He seemed quite comfortable sitting at Luca’s table—more comfortable than he should have felt.
“Protection,” he said, his voice edged with challenge. “Or ownership?”
The room stilled. Luca’s gaze moved to him slowly and deliberately. That was enough to make the man’s spine stiffen. “You don’t like my wording?” Luca asked.
The man didn’t answer, but he didn’t look away either. He was either brave or stupid. Luca stepped forward. One step was all it took. “She breathes because I allow it,” Luca said quietly. “She stands in this room untouched by any of you assholes because I decided that no one here gets to lay a hand on her.” He took another step towards the man. “And you think the problem is the word I used?”
The man swallowed, because he knew that it was too late to take back his own words. Luca stopped just short of him. He was close enough that the threat didn’t need to be spoken. “Let me make it simple for you,” Luca said. His voice dropped—lower and colder. “Anyone who touches her dies.” There was no emphasis on his words, and no theatrics—just truth.
The man nodded, letting Luca know that his message was received. Luca held his gaze for another second and then stepped back, as though this was all nothing. Like the threat hadn’t just rewritten the rules of the room.
He turned slightly back toward Isabella, and his hand found hers without hesitation, and without asking her permission. His fingers closed around hers in a grip that was firm, possessive, and deliberate. He was sending the men around the table another message. And this one was even clearer.
“From this point forward,” Luca said, turning back to the table, “any move against her—” His grip tightened slightly. “Is a move against me.” Silence followed, but he was sure that everyone understood his message. It was settled now because they all understood what it would mean if they crossed him. War—total, unforgiving, and immediate.
“And if you’re smart,” Luca added, his gaze sweeping the room one last time, “you won’t test that.” No one spoke. No one argued. No one so much as shifted in their seats because they knew better.
Luca held the silence for another second and then nodded. “Meeting’s over.” Chairs began to move as men stood, filing out one by one, each of them careful—very careful—not to look at Isabella too long. No one lingered, not wanting to give him a reason to come for them or their families. And just like that, the room emptied, until it was just the two of them.
Luca didn’t let go of her hand. He didn’t loosen his grip or step away from her. He looked down at her, studying her. “You good?” he asked. Her eyes lifted to his—steady and stronger than before.
“Yeah,” she said. “That was a lot.”
Luca’s mouth curved faintly. “Because it had to be.”
“I know,” she agreed. Silence settled between them.
“You didn’t have to say it like that,” she added.
Luca tilted his head. “Yeah,” he said, “I did.”
Her brows pulled together slightly. “Why?” she questioned.
“Because now they believe me. They know for certain that if they cross me, I’ll tear down their whole fucking world.” Her breath caught, and for a second, he saw something in her eyes. It wasn’t fear, or anger, but something deeper, and far more dangerous.
Luca’s grip on her hand tightened. “You are untouchable now,” he said quietly. Her pulse jumped beneath his touch. Isabella opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it. There was nothing left to argue about, because this wasn’t a deal anymore. It wasn’t a strategy, either. It was her new reality. She belonged to him now, and he had just made sure that everyone in that room knew it.
