“Yes sir.”
When they escort her into my office, I nearly don't recognize her. She’s a ghost of herself. Her face is gaunt, bruised along one cheekbone. Her once lustrous hair hangs in dirty strands. Her clothes are torn and bloodied. She wobbles when my men release her.
"Jesus Christ.” My heart plummets to my stomach. I did this by sending her to her family. The evidence of their cruelty is written all over her body.
But even as sympathy claws at me, suspicion follows close behind. Is this another trap? A ploy to manipulate me, to get back into my home, my bed, my heart?
"Alessandro.” Her voice is weak, rough, as if her mouth is filled with sand. "You have to listen. My brother?—"
"Sit down before you fall down," I interrupt, gesturing to the chair across from my desk. My men hesitate at the door. "Leave us."
They exit, and Isabella sinks into the chair. "My brother plans to attack the estate… three days.”
I study her face, searching for deception. "And why would you betray your family to tell me this? After what you did?"
"I've never betrayed you." Her eyes, once bright and defiant, now dull with exhaustion, meet mine. "Enrico used the whisky incident to somehow get the key.”
“Incident. Eight of my men were poisoned.” I narrow my eyes at her, trying to decide if she’s as hurt as she looks or if this is an elaborate act.
She rubs her temple, leaving behind blood from her fingers. Fucking hell… what did they do to her?
“I’ve been locked up with only scraps and water to live on because I’ve refused to help them. Enrico taunts me with his successes. He showed me a newspaper about another attack… ” She closes her eyes, and for a minute I wonder if she’s fallen asleep or passed out.
She lifts her head with effort, like it weighs a ton. "I escaped because..." Her words begin to slur. "Because I couldn't let them hurt you. And because..."
She sways in the chair, and I'm around the desk in an instant, catching her as she slides toward the floor.
"Isabella?" I cradle her against my chest, feeling how frighteningly thin she's become. "Isabella!"
She looks up at me. Her hand lifts as if to press to my cheek, but then her eyes roll back, and she goes limp in my arms.
"Carlo!" I roar to get the attention of my men outside the door as I fight rising panic. "Get the doctor here now!"
As my men rush to follow orders, I lift Isabella and carry her to my bedroom, laying her gently on the bed where we once made love. My hands hover over her bruised face, afraid to touch and cause more pain.
I've spent weeks convinced of her guilt. But seeing her broken, yet brave enough to escape and warn me, breaks something inside.
Doctor Calendra arrives in twenty minutes. He’s been with the family since I was a kid and is always prepared for any sort of emergency, whether it’s gunshots or knife wounds. I don’t think Isabella has either of those, but she’s definitely been wounded.
“Do whatever you need to do to save her,” I order.
“Of course, Don Dante.” Calendra moves to the bed and begins examining her. “How long has she been out?”
“Twenty-five… thirty minutes. She said they weren’t feeding her. I don’t know where the wounds came from.”
Calendra lifts her shirt, exposing a long gash in her side. Fucking hell. Maybe they did stab her.
“There’s glass,” he says, moving to his bag.
“Glass?”
“Maybe she went through a window. Leave me with her, Don Dante. When I have examined and treated her, I’ll report to you.” He doesn’t look up to see if I follow his directions. He just continues to poke and prod at Isabella.
I decide it’s better if I leave him to his work. I glance at Isabella’s face, pale and gaunt. She escaped to warn me after I’d sent her back to be tortured. I’ve been preparing myself to kill her. What the fuck sort of monster am I?
I retreat to my office. I’m Don Dante, and I need to put the family… the business first.
Adriano finds me as I’m pouring a drink to settle my nerves. "What's going on? Rumor is Isabella showed up half dead."
