Semua Bab The Don's Ruthless Empire: Bab 521 - Bab 530

POV: Isabella“Please do not run, Signora Isabella. Running makes a guest look guilty, and I have only come to say good morning, return a favor, and tell you exactly how much your little city is worth to me.”I am Isabella, and I have faced men with pistols and men with ledgers, but no one had ever frozen me with a lantern and a teacup. She stood three steps below us on the winding stair, small and straight, in a grey traveling coat with a silver gull pinned at the collar. Her hair was neatly pinned. She looked like someone’s favorite aunt. Only her eyes were wrong. They were calm in the way of a person who has already counted every exit and decided which ones matter.Matteo moved in front of me. His hand flew to his ribs before he could stop it, and I saw pain cross his face like a shadow. “You rang the bell,” he said.“I ring nothing. I only pay for good bells.” She lifted the cup and smiled. “Odile Verrant. In the northern ports they call me the Harbor Keeper. My enemies call me wo

POV: Isabella“You promised me this council would protect our children, Isabella. Look me in the eyes and tell me that promise was not a lie, because tonight I cannot tell the difference.”I am Isabella, and it was a quarter to midnight when Camilla Marchetti knocked on my kitchen door without a coat, without a lantern, and without her usual calm. Rain had finally started, thin and cold, and she stood on my step with drops shining in her hair. I pulled her inside. The stove ticked. The room smelled of bread and lamp oil and the dried rosemary that hung from the beam. Upstairs, Matteo slept, or pretended to, one hand pressed against his side.“It was not a lie,” I said. “I made it with my whole heart.”“Nine people argued for four hours about wording.” Her laugh cracked in the middle. “Bianca is twelve. She hates the dark. She sleeps with a lamp burning, and she always has. Did anyone in that room ask whether there is a lamp on that ship?”“I did not have to ask. Emilio’s list says she

POV: Isabella“Six nights I sat by that window with this shawl, waiting for Nico to come home from your last war, and you promised me never again. Where is my son, Isabella?”I am Isabella, and Rosa stood on the council house steps at eight in the morning with the grey shawl clutched around her shoulders, so pale that her lips looked painted on. The rain had stopped, but the whole city smelled of wet stone. I had not slept. I had walked the halls all night with Bianca’s ribbon in my pocket, listening for a ring I could not hear. When I saw Rosa’s face, I knew before she spoke.“Luca’s bed was empty this morning,” she said. “He left a note on his pillow. Read it.”She pushed a scrap of paper into my hand. My eyes ran over the words. I am going to bring Bianca home. I am not a child. Do not follow me. Luca.“Nico and Matteo came in from the harbor near dawn,” Rosa said. “Luca was with them. He went to bed. He slept in his own bed, and he got up, and he was gone.” Her voice cracked. “Twe

POV: Isabella“One rib has moved inward, Signora. If he stands up today, it may pierce the lung, and he will not wake again. Do you understand me? He must not stand.”I am Isabella, and Dr. Lucia Fenn had never lied to me in twenty years, which was why I wished so badly that she would start. We stood in the corridor outside the room where they had laid Matteo, a small bright room above the council house, smelling of carbolic soap and lavender. Behind the door he lay pale and still, a bandage tight around his chest. His hand lay open on the blanket. I had held it for two hours, until the doctor made me leave.“How long?” I asked.“At least a week. Perhaps three. He will fight me, Signora. He will tell you he is fine.” Her voice was gentle. “Do not listen to him.”“I have not listened to him since the day we married.”She almost smiled. Then she squeezed my arm and left me alone in the corridor. Alone was a word I had not felt in years. Nico was at the harbor. Camilla was counting hours

POV: Isabella“Nobody came when my father rang. Give me one good reason why I should stop what I started tonight, Signora, because I cannot find one myself.”I am Isabella, and Tobias Ferro sat inside the great bronze bell like a child hiding in a cupboard. It was almost midnight. The wind moaned through the stone arches, cold and full of salt, and the tower creaked around us like an old ship. I stood on the top step with one hand on the rail and the other holding a lantern. Below me, at the base of the stairs, Dario waited with Nico and Corvin. I had told them exactly where I was going. I had told them why. Dario had looked at me and said only, Thank you for telling me. It was the best thing anyone had said to me all week.Tobias sat curled against the inner wall of the bell with his knees drawn up. He was thin, pale, and very young. His left hand held a small brass lever wired to a coil of cable, and on that hand, loose on his thin finger, shone a gold ring with a flat dent on one s