CHAPTER 3

Isabella’s POV

As requested, I spent the night in Ricci’s residence.

I didn’t sleep. Not even for a second.

One of the men in black suits had led me to a room after I left the study. They called it a guest room, but it felt more like a cage designed in style.

The polished wood, the expensive curtains, the soft blankets but none of it swayed me. There was a lock somewhere in the air, a silent warning that this wasn’t a place for rest.

I lay on top of the covers with my shoes still on, staring at the ceiling as shadows crept across it. Every tick of the clock sounded louder, every rustle outside the door made my muscles tense. I had never felt so small in a room so big.

And at the back of my mind, my father’s words played on repeat:

“It’s time to pay your debt for the family. You’ll marry Leonard Ricci, and that’s the end of it.”

I was the payment.

A sharp knock jolted me upright. My pulse spiked, expecting one of his men. Or worse—him.

But when the door opened, it was a woman. She was older, maybe in her fifties, with neat black hair streaked with silver. Her dress was simple, her presence careful, like someone who’d spent a lifetime staying unnoticed.

“Miss Marino,” she said softly, bowing her head. “Breakfast is ready.”

My stomach twisted. “I’m not hungry.”

“Mr. Ricci insists.”

Of course he does.

I smoothed down my tangled hair with shaky fingers and followed her. The hallways stretched long and winding, each turn pulling me deeper into a place I couldn’t escape. The silence wasn’t natural, it was deliberate. Like the house itself held its breath for him.

When we reached the dining room, I froze.

The table was long enough to seat twenty people. Only one place was set at the head.

And he was already there.

Leonardo Ricci sat like he belonged to the room, like the entire house bent around him. His white shirt was crisp, sleeves rolled to his forearms, dark hair perfectly in place. He didn’t just sit at the head of the table; he was the head of it. The center of gravity.

When his eyes lifted to mine, a slow smile spread across his face.

“Good morning, Isabella,” he said, his voice smooth but edged. He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

My legs felt stiff, but I obeyed. A servant appeared silently, setting down coffee, fruit, and pastries before me. The smell was sweet, almost comforting, but my throat was too tight to swallow.

He picked up his own coffee and studied me over the rim before taking a sip. “You should eat. You’ll need your strength.”

The words sounded casual, but they weren’t. They landed heavy, like a promise or a threat.

I forced my voice out. “Why am I here, really? What exactly does my father owe you?”

Leonardo’s lips curved faintly, but there was no humor in his eyes. “Your father borrowed protection. He borrowed money. But most of all, he borrowed time. Debts pile up, Isabella. And eventually, someone has to pay.”

“Why me?” I demanded, surprising even myself. My fingers gripped the edge of the table. “You could have taken money, property….anything. Why… why did you choose me?”

He leaned back in his chair, watching me like I was daring him. “Your father has no money he went bankrupt and because unlike money, you don’t lose value. You are leverage. You are loyalty. And”….his voice lowered slightly, deliberate…..“you’re mine now.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, burning with anger and something I didn’t want to name. “I’m not some prize you can just—”

“You’re not a prize,” he interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut. “You are the guarantee your father couldn’t give me. And whether you like it or not, you’re in my house, wearing my name. That makes you mine.”

I hated the calmness in his voice. I hated that he didn’t need to raise it to make the walls close in.

I drew in a breath, fighting the quiver in my voice. “And what exactly do you expect from me?”

He set his cup down with a soft clink. “Obedience. Silence. And no games. You play along, this marriage will be easier than you imagine.”

His words were sharp, but his delivery was polite. That was worse. A man yelling could be ignored, resisted. A man like this? A man who smiled while caging you? that was terrifying.

“And if I don’t?” I asked.

His eyes darkened, though his tone stayed calm. “Then you’ll learn why people don’t cross me.”

The room chilled. The fire in the hearth crackled, but it didn’t warm me.

I pressed on, because fear wasn’t enough to silence me. “Do you know what my father told me before he sent me here? He said this was the debt. He said I was the payment. So tell me, Leonardo, was I worth all that?”

For a moment, something flickered in his gaze—interest, maybe even respect. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “You’re worth more than your father knows. He sees a burden. I see… an investment.”

His words knotted in my chest. An investment. Like I was land. Or stock. Something to grow, something to own.

I clenched my fists beneath the table. “What if I refuse?”

He tilted his head, smiling again. “You won’t. You’re smart enough to know what refusal costs. And smart women survive longer in my world.”

Silence stretched. My heart pounded, but I forced myself to breathe evenly.

Then his question came, cutting through the stillness like a blade.

“Tell me, Isabella,” Leonardo said softly, his eyes locked on mine. “Are you a virgin?”

The bluntness knocked the breath from me. My body stiffened, heat burning my skin. “That’s none of your—”

“Answer,” he interrupted, not unkindly, but with steel threaded in his tone.

I swallowed, forcing myself not to look away. “No.”

The air thickened. For a moment, his expression gave nothing away. His jaw flexed, his eyes steady on mine.

Then—he smiled. Slow. Dangerous. “Good. Then you already know the rules of the game.”

I gripped my coffee cup so tightly I thought it might crack. But I didn’t lower my eyes. I met his stare and held it.

This wasn’t just breakfast. This was a negotiation.

And I had just stepped into his game.