Chapter 2

Sophia's POV

"Isabella, stop—" I started, but she was already in full performance mode.

"She's still a Cohen daughter. The alliance would be just as valid." Isabella turned to our father with bright. "And let's be honest, what does Sophia have to lose? Her engagement to Michael isn't even official yet."

"We're getting married next month!" I protested.

Michael with his bright smile and warm laugh, the boy who'd chosen me when he could have had anyone. Back in college, half the girls in our program had been chasing after him, but somehow, impossibly, he'd asked me out.

My first love. My only love. Well, technically not my only... but that one night two years ago didn't count. That had been a mistake, a moment of weakness I'd spent months trying to forget. Some stranger in a hotel bar, too much wine, a night that ended with me sneaking out before dawn, too ashamed to even look at his face.

But Michael was different. Michael was sunshine and safety and everything good in my life. He was going to be my husband, the father of my children, my partner for life. The only man who would ever matter.

How dare Isabella suggest I throw that away?

"You can get engaged again," Isabella waved dismissively. "But this? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. When will you ever get another chance to marry someone so powerful? So wealthy?"

I stared at her in complete disbelief. Was she actually trying to throw me under the bus to save herself? Of course she is. This is Isabella we're talking about.

"Come on, Sophie." Her voice took on that fake-sweet tone she used when she wanted something. "You're studying medicine. You understand physical limitations better than anyone. You could probably help him, even. Make his life better."

She's actually trying to make this sound like charity work. I felt like I was drowning in her words, each one pushing me deeper underwater.

"The Romano family did specifically request Isabella." he said.

"But they've never met either of us in person," Isabella jumped in quickly. "All the negotiations were done through intermediaries. They just want a Cohen daughter – they didn't specify which one."

"They believe your age and qualifications make you the most suitable match. When you marry him, you'll become a high society wife, and our family will rise with your status."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Thank God.

For a terrifying moment, I'd actually thought my father might consider Isabella's insane suggestion.

"For this family, you must marry Vito! There is no choice." My father's tone brooked no argument.

In my father's eyes, this was something beneficial for Isabella. Vito was wealthy, handsome, and powerful – the perfect match. He believed Isabella deserved all of these advantages.

Any beneficial opportunity, he would never consider for me. For once, I was grateful for my insignificance in this family. I didn't have to worry about being forced to marry Vito Romano.

Isabella's face flushed red. "Daddy, you can't be serious—"

"I am completely serious." He stood up, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "This marriage will save our family. It will secure our future. And it will give you everything you've ever wanted – wealth, status, protection."

"I don't want protection from a violent cripple!"

"Watch your language," my father said coldly. "That man could destroy us with a phone call, or elevate us beyond our wildest dreams. Show some respect."

"Respect? For what? The rumors say he's lost his mind completely since the accident. "

Where does she even hear this stuff? I thought, but the images her words conjured made me shudder anyway.

"The rumors also say he's more powerful now than ever," my father countered. "Fear can be just as effective as charm, Isabella. Sometimes more so."

"I won't do it." Isabella crossed her arms. "I absolutely will not marry him."

"You will do it because you have no choice."

"I have a choice. I can leave."

"With what money?" My father's laugh was bitter. "Your credit cards are maxed out. Your trust fund is frozen. Everything we own is mortgaged to pay for your lifestyle, Isabella. Where exactly do you think you'll go?"

The color drained from Isabella's face. "You're lying."

"Am I? Check your bank account when you get upstairs. See how much is left."

I watched this verbal sparring match like a tennis spectator, my head turning back and forth between them. Part of me felt sorry for Isabella – she looked genuinely panicked now. But another part of me, a part I wasn't proud of, felt a tiny bit satisfied seeing her perfect world crumble.

At least I'm not the one being sold off like livestock.

"There is no other way, Isabella. The Romano alliance is our only option. And you will fulfill your duty to this family."

Isabella stared at him for a long moment, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

She turned and walked toward the dining room door, her heels clicking against the floor like gunshots.

"Where are you going?" my father called after her.

The door slammed behind her.

My father and I sat in the sudden silence.

"She'll agree eventually," my father said. But for some reason, an inexplicable panic began to spread deep within me.