FAZER LOGINIsabella Conti has one job: keep her family alive. When her late father's shipping company collapses under a debt owed to the Rossaro empire, the man who comes to collect isn't a lawyer or a banker. It's Matteo Rossaro, the Don who inherited his father's throne and his father's enemies in the same breath. Matteo doesn't want money. He wants Isabella under his roof, wearing his name in public, and answering to no one but him, until the debt is paid in full. Isabella agrees for one reason only: her younger brother Nico has three weeks to live unless the Conti name is protected. She walks into Rossaro territory expecting a cage. What she finds instead is a man built from silence and control, a household of loyal soldiers who watch her like she might be a knife pointed at their Don's back, and a secret buried in both their families that neither of them is ready to survive. Matteo tells himself the arrangement is business. Then Isabella starts asking questions he can't answer, standing her ground when his own men flinch, and looking at him like she sees the boy underneath the Don. Every hour she stays in his house is an hour his rivals sharpen their knives, and Dante Vitale, the heir circling Matteo's territory, is already whispering that the Rossaro throne has gone soft. When the truth about what really happened between their fathers finally surfaces, it will not just threaten the fragile trust growing between them. It will hand Dante the exact weapon he needs to burn both families to the ground. Isabella came to save her brother. She never planned on falling for the one man capable of destroying everything she loves, or discovering that loving him might be the only way to save it.
Ver maisPoint of view: Isabella"He used to hide here when our father was still alive and the arguments got too loud. I should have thought of it hours ago."The old boathouse sat at the edge of Conti property, half collapsed and forgotten by everyone except the two of us who had grown up ducking inside it whenever the house upstairs became unbearable. Matteo followed me down the narrow path without a word, his men fanned out somewhere behind us in the dark, close enough to protect but far enough to give the illusion of privacy.The path had not changed since I was a girl, roots pushing up through the dirt in the same places, the same salt smell rolling in off the water. It should have felt like coming home. Instead every step felt like walking backward into a life that no longer belonged to me, with a stranger who controlled more of this city than my father ever had walking silently beside me.Nico was there, curled against the far wall with a bruise blooming along his jaw and fear written i
Point of view: Matteo"Say that again," I told the man standing in my study. "Slowly.""A warehouse on Vitale territory burned two hours ago. Whoever did it left a message painted across the outside wall in Conti Shipping colors, with the name Nico Conti written underneath it in six foot letters. Dante's people found it before ours did."I felt the room narrow the way it always did when a plan I had not built was already three moves ahead of me. "Do we have anyone who can confirm Nico actually did this.""No, Don Rossaro. And that is what worries me. It does not look like his work. It looks like someone wanted it to look like his work."Behind me, I could feel Isabella's presence in the doorway even before I turned around. She had followed despite my instruction to stay, her face pale, arms wrapped around herself like she was holding something together by force."My brother would not burn down a warehouse," she said. "He is reckless, not stupid. He knows exactly what would happen to h
Point of view: Isabella"You are not what I expected, Miss Conti. That is not a compliment yet. It is simply true."The woman who said it stood in the entrance hall of the Rossaro compound like she owned the marble floor beneath her feet, arms folded, studying me the way you study something that might bite. Behind her, two guards watched the gate close, and I understood in that instant exactly how far away from my old life I had just walked."I am Carmela," she said. "I run this house. You will learn the rules quickly, or you will learn them the hard way. Either is fine with me.""I would prefer the quick way," I said.That earned the smallest twitch of something near a smile before it disappeared. She led me through hallways lined with paintings older than the city itself, past a study where I caught a glimpse of Matteo speaking quietly with an older man who looked at me with open suspicion as I passed. I kept my chin level and did not look away first, even though every instinct in m
Point of view: Matteo"Tell me you did not just invite a Conti into this house, Matteo."My uncle's voice carried across the study before I had even taken off my jacket. Salvatore stood by the window overlooking the harbor, arms crossed, wearing the expression he reserved for decisions he intended to argue me out of."I did not invite her," I said. "I offered her a way to keep her mother's house. There is a difference.""There is no difference to the men who work for us. They will see a Conti sleeping under this roof and wonder if the Don has gone soft."I poured a drink I did not particularly want and let the silence answer him first. Eighteen months since my father's funeral, and Salvatore still measured every decision I made against a version of leadership that had died with him. My father built this empire on fear that never blinked. I intended to keep it standing, but I was not interested in becoming a copy of a dead man to do it.The study still smelled faintly of my father's ci


















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