ella

rformance and the sheer terror of what I had just done

t of the master suite. Every step on the Persian rug felt like walking on the edge of a knife. If Vincenzo wo

de was thick with the ghost of his presence-aged whiskey, expensive leather, and that suffocatin

pleted" tray. My

ing like a blood pact in the dim light. He had signed away Giuliana's luxurious apartment to a blind trust without a second gl

onster, the crushing power dynamic between us had shifted. He

parched. I walked down to the cavernous kitchen fo

t, holding a small cup of dark espresso. His eyes, blacker than the liquid he was drinking, locked onto m

o the estate today," he stated, his v

by the paper burning against my thigh. "Yo

ng my question. He set the espresso cup down with a sharp clink. "You wi

idors that used to house the servants

I said, my voice trembling with a m

uch me, but his proximity was a weapon in itself. "This is my house, Isabella," he said softly, the cruelty in h

eaving me alone in t

n a glorified closet, smelling of stale air and forgotten things. Through the n

f. Giuliana emerged, wearing a pristine Chanel suit, looking every inch the victorious *Mafia Queen*. Vincenz

ply in the broad daylight. When she pulled away, she pointed up a

* began hauling my belongings out. They weren't packing them; they were discarding

d to save for me-spilled out into the dirt. The soldier didn't even look down as he kick

the book lie in the dirt, my hand slipping into my pocket to grip the folded piece of