LOGINDANTE’S POVLuciano De Luca.The name alone was enough to make my blood boil with rage. I hated the man. I hated everything about him. Especially because he had tried to kill me before. As he crossed the room toward me, I felt the rage and violence claw its way up my throat, raw, violent, hungry. Every instinct I had screamed to end him right there, in front of the entire goddamn city.Because behind that smooth smile and glass of whiskey was the man whose name had come up too many times in whispers about my brother’s murder.Angelo.Even thinking about it hurt.Luciano stopped a few feet away, the golden lights glinting off the dark fabric of his suit. “Dante,” he drawled, voice smooth as ever. “It’s been a long time.”I forced a smirk. “Not long enough.”He chuckled, the sound scraping against my patience. “Still as charming as ever.”I didn’t answer. My jaw clenched so tightly my teeth ached. I could see it in his eyes, the taunt, the thrill he got from being this close to me.“Ho
DANTE’S POVThe ride to the gala was quiet.Fred drove while Isabella sat beside me, her gaze fixed out the window. The city lights flickered across her face, soft gold and white cutting through the silence between us. I kept my hands clenched against my thigh, trying to ignore the way my chest felt too tight.She looked breathtaking tonight. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, but it was the truth. The green silk of her dress caught the light every time she moved. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that made it hard to look away.And I didn’t want to look away.I’d seen women dressed up before. I’d had them draped on my arm, whispering sweet things in my ear. But Isabella, she was different. There was something about her that burned under the surface. Something dangerous. Something I couldn’t control.She caught me staring.When I turned away quickly, pretending to adjust my cufflinks, I heard the softest laugh escape her lips. “You can s
ISABELLA'S POVI turned to leave when his voice stopped me.“Isabella.”Something in his tone made me turn back. He wasn’t smiling anymore.His eyes were darker, colder. “If I find out it was someone from your family who killed Angelo… what do you think I should do?”The question hit me like ice.For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, trying to understand if he was serious.But of course he was. Dante Moretti didn’t ask questions he didn’t mean.“My family?” I repeated slowly. “You think…”“I think someone’s feeding information to the people who did it,” he said, voice low. “And I think it might come from their side.”I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the box. “My family wouldn’t do that.”His gaze didn’t waver. “And if they did?”Silence stretched between us. The air in the room felt heavy.“If they did,” I said finally, my voice quiet but steady, “then I wouldn’t be able to tell you what to do. You’re the Don. And I’m just your possession. Nothing more.”
ISABELLA’S POVIt had been three days since that dinner.Three days since Dante told me I wasn’t leaving the house.Three days since I realized that I didn’t really know the man I married at all.The mansion had grown quieter in that time. Too quiet. I filled the silence with small things, reading, walking from one room to another, staring out the window when I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes Fred would be there, posted outside my door or at the end of the hallway. Always calm, always polite.He didn’t say much unless I spoke first, but over the last few days, I’d learned that he had a dry sense of humor. He liked his coffee black, hated noise, and never lied, even when the truth was uncomfortable.He was also the only person who didn’t make me feel completely alone.That afternoon, I was sitting on the edge of the bed when I heard the knock. Three soft raps, steady and even. I didn’t need to ask who it was.“Come in,” I said.The door opened and Fred stepped inside, his posture straight as
DANTE’S POVThe drive to the warehouse was silent.Fred was the one behind the wheel. The city lights blurred past the windows, mixing into the same restless glow. I barely noticed. My thoughts were somewhere else. Upstairs. Behind a closed door.Isabella’s words replayed in my head like a record I couldn’t stop.You’ve already decided who the enemy is.Maybe she was right.Maybe I didn’t care.When we reached the docks, the smell of salt and rust filled the air. The old warehouse stood at the end of the pier, the same one we used for council meetings. From the outside, it looked abandoned. Inside, it was anything but.The moment I stepped out of the car, the men guarding the entrance straightened. “Don,”they greeted, bowing slightly. Their voices carried respect, and fear. The kind that came from knowing what I was capable of.I nodded once and walked past them.The heavy doors opened into a wide room. Long wooden tables lined the center, and at the far end, the council sat waiting. T
DANTE’S POVI left her standing by the door.By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, the mask was already back on. I walked into the dining room. The long table was already set.I sat down at the head of the table. My chair creaked slightly. For a while, I just stared at the empty seat across from me.She’d said she wasn’t hungry. I knew she’d come down anyway.I leaned back, rolling my cuffs up, my mind slipping back to the orphanage.That handwriting wasn’t random. It was deliberate. And whoever left it wanted me to see it.I’d seen messages like that before. But this one felt different. Personal.The door opened behind me. Fred walked in. “The men are still stationed at the orphanage,” he said. “Nothing suspicious so far.”“Keep them there through the night,” I said. “And I want a list of everyone who’s been near that place in the past week.”He nodded. “Already working on it.”I tapped the edge of the table. “And the investigator?”“He’s been briefed. He’ll start digging







