“Papa,” she whispered. His eyes opened slowly, as though he was trying to focus and find her in the room. And for a moment, just a moment, she saw it in his eyes—relief.
“Isabella,” he rasped. Her throat tightened as she stepped closer. She needed to see his face when she asked him her next question. She needed to know that he was telling the truth.
“Is it true?” she asked. His expression shifted just slightly, but that was enough.
Her heart cracked. “Tell me,” she said, her voice shaking now despite her best effort. He looked away, and everything inside her broke. “You did it,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question, but more of a realization, and whether or not her father realized it, he had just signed his own death sentence.
“I did it to protect you,” he said weakly. The words hit harder than anything else as she let out a hollow laugh.
“That’s what you call it?” she asked. “Protection.”
“They would’ve killed you,” he said. “This way?—”
“This way, you handed me to them instead,” she finished for him. “You were willing to turn me over to the very men who threatened to kill me.” Her voice rose, sharp and shaking. “Like I was nothing?”
“You were leverage,” he said. The room went silent, because that was worse than betrayal.
Her eyes burned. “You don’t even hear yourself,” she whispered.
“It was the only way,” he insisted.
“No,” she said, stepping back from his bed. “No, it wasn’t.” His gaze flicked toward the door and toward the presence behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know who was there—Luca. He had given her some space, but not too much. He made a promise to be there for her and have her back, and that was exactly what he was doing.
Her father’s expression darkened. “He took you instead,” her father said. There was accusation in his voice, blame even, like Luca had stolen something from him. Like she had been his to give away, and that made Isabella’s stomach twist.
“No,” she said quietly.
Her father frowned at her. “What?” She turned slowly, facing Luca now, meeting his eyes. And for the first time, there was no confusion left. There was no doubt or hesitation.
“He didn’t take me,” she said. “He kept me safe.” Silence filled the room because now, she understood everything. Her father hadn’t saved her. He had sacrificed her. And Luca had stepped into that deal and rewritten it, saving her life.
Her chest rose slowly, steadily as she looked back at the man in the bed. The man she used to trust and used to believe in. She loved her father without question, and he did this to her. “You will never get to decide anything for me, ever again,” she said. Her voice didn’t shake this time, and that was good because she didn’t want her father to know that he had broken her. Something inside her had snapped, and changed her already. It had hardened her, and there was no going back to what her father used to mean to her—not anymore.
She turned and took Luca’s offered hand, not bothering to look back at her father as he called her name. He was no longer her family. Her father was dead to her now, and there would be no changing that fact for her. Luca was her family—the only family that she needed, and it was about time she started showing him that.
Luca
The first mistake Serge made was thinking Luca wouldn’t be ready. The second was thinking he was without backup. He always kept a small army of his men at his disposal—especially now with his new wife.
Luca was halfway through a call in his office when the first shot rang out. His head snapped toward the window, his body already moving before the second shot followed—closer this time. It wasn’t random gunfire. It was too coordinated to be that.
“Boss—” Dante’s voice cut through the comm.
“I hear it,” Luca said. He ended the call without another word and grabbed his gun from the desk.
“Where is this asshole?” he asked.
“There is an east side breach attempt. We’ve taken two men down already, but they’re pushing hard,” Dante explained. Of course they were, because this wasn’t a test. This was a grab at power, and there was only one thing in this house worth risking that kind of move for—Isabella.
Luca was already out the door. “Lock the house down,” he ordered as he moved down the hall. “No one in or out.”
“Already set in motion, boss,” Dante said.
His jaw tightened as he reached the stairs. “Where is she?”
“In her room,” Dante said, trying to keep up with him.
“Keep her there,” Luca ordered.
