Her name even tasted wrong every time he said it out loud. She seemed familiar in a way Luca didn’t trust. He rolled his neck slowly as the tension coiled tight through his shoulders. Every instinct he had—every scar-earned lesson—told him this situation was off. Women didn’t just walk into Luca’s world and demand answers. Women didn’t say his name as if doing so wouldn’t come with consequences. And they sure as hell didn’t walk out afterward.
His office door opened, and Luca’s attention seemed to snap back into focus. The man he had sent to escort her back to his office stepped in first, his expression carefully blank. ThenIsabella followed him in. She was alive and unharmed, and that alone was enough to put Luca on edge.
Her chin was still lifted, her spine straight, but there was something different about her now—something tighter beneath the surface. It was like she’d just stood too close to a fire and hadn’t decided yet if she’d been burned or marked by the flames. He hated that he found her so interesting.
Luca pushed off the wall, and their eyes met for a brief second. Hers were lighter than he expected from the way that his guys had described her. When she was first in his office, he only noticed the storm in her eyes, not the color of them. But they were sharp, observant, and didn’t seem scared of him, and that was a problem. Most people in this building either feared Luca or pretended they didn’t. But this girl was different. She looked like she was trying to understand him, and that was far worse than her not being afraid of him.
“She wasn’t very cooperative,” the guard muttered. Luca didn’t answer. His gaze stayed locked on Isabella, and she didn’t look away. That earned her something close to respect. Or maybe it was concern, because she’d never live very long in his world if she didn’t have a little fear of him and his family.
“Thank you,” he said to his guard, “I’ve got it from here.” His guy turned to leave, and so did Isabella. He stepped directly into her path before she could reach the stairs. She was at least smart enough to stop, but she didn’t seem startled. “Isabella,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel dragged across steel.
Up close, he could see the details about her better. The faint tension in her jaw and the controlled way she held herself together. But underneath all of that, he could see it—she was scared. But she was hiding it well, and that made her dangerous.
“Luca,” she replied. His brow lifted slightly. “Why am I back in your office?” she asked. “I thought that we already said our peace.” They had, but as soon as she left his office, he got aphone call warning him that if she left his club, she wouldn’t live to see morning. He had a sick feeling that the threat had everything to do with her father and the reason for her visit to his club. Marrying Isabella was the only way to make peace in his city, and that was all that mattered to him right now.
A slow, humorless smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You said your peace when you accused me of committing some malice towards your father. But you didn’t give much explanation. What happened to your father?” he asked.
“So, you suddenly care about my father?” she spat.
“Careful,” he said. “Talking to me that way will end up getting you killed, sweetheart.”
“Funny,” she shot back. “That’s exactly what I expected you to say.” Yeah, she had teeth. Luca studied her for a long moment, his gaze heavy and calculating.
“Whatever you think you’re doing,” he said finally, “it’s not worth it.”
Her expression didn’t change. “You don’t know what I’m doing,” she challenged. “I just want to know what happened to my father. I figured that my future husband would want to help me, because without my father’s blessing, our wedding won’t take place.” Shit, she was right, but that didn’t make him want to help her find her old man.
“I’m aware,” he grumbled. His voice hardened slightly. “You walked into a lion’s den and said my name like you had a right to it. Usually, pulling that kind of shit doesn’t end well.”
“For who?” she asked quietly.
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “For anyone.” Silence stretched between them, and then she took a step closer. She was too close to him, but he didn’t back away from her. He took her proximity as a challenge, and he never backed down from one of those. Luca didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch.
“You’ve been watching me,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but more like a statement. He didn’t bother to deny it.
“I figured that I should at least know who I was expected to marry,” he insisted.
“And what did you find out about me?” she asked. Luca tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle he hadn’t decided whether he wanted to solve or destroy.
“That you’re either brave,” he said slowly. “Or stupid.” Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t look away.
“Which one do you think I am?”
Luca paused. “Both.” Something flickered in her eyes. It wasn’t fear, not exactly, but something stronger.
“Good,” she said. “Then I’m exactly where I need to be.” Luca exhaled sharply through his nose, something that sounded almost like a laugh—if he was the kind of man who laughed.
“You don’t get it,” he muttered.
“Then explain it to me.”
His gaze hardened. “No.”
Her patience snapped—just slightly. “Everyone keeps telling me I don’t understand,” she said, voice tightening. “But no one will actually tell me anything. I’m supposed to just marry you without knowing anything about you.” Yeah, he had an unfair advantage over her. He was told about their pending nuptials weeks ago, allowing him to investigate Isabella. But he heard that she had only just been told the happy news about their wedding.
“Because knowing the truth won’t save you,” Luca said bluntly.
“It might,” Isabella countered.
