e
he De Luca E
eyes scanning the gathered dons with the precision of a predator. At 6'2", he cut an imposing figure in his tailored black suit, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders and tapering to his lean waist. His jet-black hair, slightly wavy
nough to hold her own, her athletic frame lean and wiry from years of street fights and motorcycle races. Her dark brown hair, with its subtle auburn highlights, was pulled into a messy ponytail, strands escaping to frame her heart-shaped face. A small freckle on
to end a war." His voice was smooth, like aged whiskey, but carried the weight of a man who'd buried
snapped to her, his green eyes narrowing. She met his stare
n was etched with lines, his dark brown eyes hard as flint. "Isabella," he growled,
h unity. A marriage between our families." He gestured to Luca, then
hazel eyes widening. "You've got to be kidding me," she said, her voice cutting through the silence l
lling taut across his cheek. "Sit dow
nting. He'd known this was coming-his father had warned him-but seeing Isabella in the flesh, all leather and attitude, made his stomac
, his voice low and controlled, each word clip
nger at Luca, her eyes raking over his polished suit, his broad chest, his infuriatingl
reak through. "And you look like you just roll
closer, her boots thudding on the floor, her hazel eyes blazing. "Sa
ke a gunshot. "This marriage will happen. The Russos are circling, a
down, her chin lifting, her freckle catching the light. The air between
uld speak, the w
ling his father down behind the table. Isabella was already moving, her Beretta drawn from the holster un
tering wood and pinging off metal. Luca pulled his Sig Sauer from his shoulder holster, his movements fluid, precise.
ching on glass. She fired into the courtyard, her shots steady, dropping a shadow that had bee
k her, their positions instinctive, like they'd trained together for years. He too
ered to the back by their men, but Isabella stayed in the fight, her lean frame darting between cover. A bu
back!" he snapped, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind a marble statue.
as their eyes locked. His hand lingered a moment too long, the
trained. Another burst of gunfire forced them to duck, their shoulders br
e distance, too late to matter. Luca stood, his suit dusted with glass, his gun still in hand. Isabella rose bes
ked, his voice roug
eve, smirking. "Better than you,
ric, a rare chuckle escaping hi
could respond, Vincenzo stormed over, his face thunderous. "Isab
. "I was thinking I'm not useless, Papa.
eyes-so like Luca's-calculating. "This was a message from Giovanni Russ
against her flushed skin. "You're insane if y
said, his voice fin
thy, dangerous. But the way she'd moved in the fight, the fire in her eyes, stir
id, his voice low, almost a challe
r hazel eyes flashing. "Ov
th warm against her ear. "
room cleared, the families retreating to strategize, but Luca and Isabella stood froze