“No,” she breathed more to herself.
Dante stepped closer. “You need to hear the rest from Luca.” She laughed, and it sounded sharp and broken.
“Of course I do.” Because of course, Luca knew the details. Of course, he had the full picture, and he waited to share it with her. Her chest tightened, not just from the betrayal, but from something else. Something worse. Because suddenly everything Luca had done made sense. His control over her, and claiming her in front of all the other families—it was all a part of his plan. The way that he wouldn’t let her leave—he hadn’t just been protecting her. He had been keeping her from walking straight into the hands of the people her father had already promised her to.
Her stomach twisted violently. “I need to see him,” she said.
Dante hesitated and then nodded. “I’ll get Luca.”
“No.” Her voice stopped him cold. “I’m not waiting. He wanted you to bring me to him, so take me to him.”
Dante studied her and then turned. “Stay close,” he ordered.
She didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to. Isabella followed him because there was only one thing left now—the truth, and she was done running from it.
She didn’t remember walking to his office. The only thing on her mind was that she needed answers—and Luca was the only one who had them. The door was already half open. She pushed it the rest of the way and stepped inside without knocking.
Luca was on a call, but he didn’t look surprised to see her. He never did. His eyes flicked up, locked on hers for half a second, then back down as he finished whatever he was saying. “Handle it,” he said into the phone. “I want eyes on him at all times.” She wondered if the “Him” he was talking about was Serge or her father.
Her stomach twisted as Luca ended the call and set the phone down slowly, his attention shifting fully to her. “What is it?” he asked as though nothing had changed between them, or like her world hadn’t just cracked open ten minutes ago.
“I want to see my father,” she whispered. Luca didn’t move. He didn’t speak, but just watched her.
“No,” he said. Her jaw tightened, and she stepped further into the room, letting the door close behind her with a soft click.
“That’s not your call,” she spat.
His brow lifted slightly. “It is.”
Her hands curled at her sides. “He’s awake,” she said, “and you knew that.”
“Yes,” he breathed.
“And you didn’t tell me,” she accused.
“I didn’t need to,” he insisted.
Anger flared sharp and fast. “You don’t get to decide what I need.”
“I do when it involves your safety,” he countered.
“My safety?” she snapped. “You mean the part where my father tried to sell me to the Russians?” There it was. She had said the ugly truth out loud, and Luca didn’t even flinch.
“Yeah,” he said. “That part.”
Her chest rose sharply. “I need to hear it from him,” she said. “Not from Dante, and not from you.”
“No,” he repeated.
Her pulse spiked. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not thinking clearly.” Her laugh was sharp. She was getting sick of Luca thinking that he knew what was best for her. And she hated that he was right—she wasn’t thinking clearly.
“Of course I’m not thinking clearly,” she shot back. “I just found out my father tried to hand me over like I was a fucking trade deal.”
Luca’s expression didn’t change. “That’s exactly why you don’t go anywhere near him right now.”
She took another step closer to him. “No,” she said, quieter now but more dangerous. “That’s exactly why I do.”
