• 37
??
That was how I knew I was already in trouble.
He stood behind his desk, hands braced against the polished wood, eyes sharp and calculating as he stared at me like I was a problem.
"You got us into some fucked up shit, Nico."
I clenched my jaw.
Of course he found out.
He always did.
"Everything is handled," I said calmly. "There's no loose ends."
He laughed once, humourless. "Handled? First, I tell you to marry. You agree. Then you give your bride to your brother. What kind of shit is that?"
I leaned back in the chair, unfazed. "They like each other."
His eyes narrowed. "You went against me."
"I didn't," I replied evenly. "You said keep it close. Enzo is close. We're aligned."
The room went still.
My father's stare hardened, like he was deciding whether to push or let it go.
Then he shifted topics.
"What is this about Sean Doyle?"
My body went rigid before I could stop it.
"Sean is handled," I said.
"How," he snapped, "did you get yourself involved with Sean Doyle?"
I met his gaze. "He was messing with something that was mine."
My father exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Nico, I trust you. But you've been putting us in a lot of shit these past few months. I don't like it."
"Everything you've given me is handled," I said firmly. "Sean Doyle is my business. You don't need to worry about it."
He studied me. "Is Enzo involved?"
"No," I said immediately. "He's not involved. This is mine."
His jaw flexed.
Then he sighed. "Isabella mentioned something about Matteo Sabatini."
I scoffed. "Papa, you need to stop listening to Isabella. She snoops too much. She knows too much. She puts herself in danger."
He cursed under his breath. "Yes. I know. I know."
For once, we agreed on something.
"Isabella," he muttered.
The meeting ended shortly after. Nothing resolved. Nothing forgiven.
Just tension.
I left his office with my patience hanging by a thread.
"Nico."
I stopped walking.
I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Isabella stood in the hallway, arms crossed, empty eyes sharp, expression unreadable.
"What do you want?" I asked flatly.
She smiled.
That should've worried me.
"You're gonna love me for this," she said.
I scoffed. "Probably won't."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "They're looking for her mother."
I frowned.
"What?"
"Daria's biological mother," Isabella continued. "People connected to Doyle. I traced it. She's alive. In hiding."
My pulse spiked. How does she know this?
"I tried to tell you earlier," she added. "You didn't want to listen."
I stared at her, my chest tight.
"And?" I said.
"And I found her," Isabella finished. "Before they did."
The hallway suddenly felt too warm.
I exhaled slowly. "Where."
She lifted a brow. "You're welcome."
"For what?"
"For saving your girl's family," she said calmly. "Duh."
I clenched my jaw, anger and relief colliding in my chest.
"...Thank you," I muttered. I wasn't sure there wasn't anything, I could keep from Isabella. I knew she could be annoying, but she was also the smartest person I knew.
She smirked. "Don't get used to it."
I turned away, already pulling my phone from my pocket.
Because no matter what my father thought and no matter what war this started, everything came back to one thing.
Keeping Daria safe.
I didn't slow down.
Isabella had to keep up.
"You're walking like you're about to murder someone," she said behind me, walking through the mansion.
"Talk," I replied. "Now."
She smiled like she loved this part.
"Daria's mother didn't disappear," Isabella said. "She was pushed. After Sean Doyle started moving money again, I noticed quiet transfers. Small amounts. No pattern unless you were looking for one."
I stopped near the elevator. Jules mentioned this.
"And you were looking," I said flatly.
"Always," she replied. "The women around men like Doyle never actually leave. They hide. They change names. They follow money trails instead of family ones."
My jaw tightened.
"She's been living under a different last name," Isabella continued. "Different city. Cash-only rentals. No social media. No photos. Smart woman."
"Why didn't Doyle find her first?" I asked.
Isabella tilted her head. "Because he didn't think she mattered anymore."
That answer hit harder than it should have. Doyle didn't deserve mercy. If only he knew, sweet Daria was the only one keeping his ass alive.
"She does," I said.
"I know," Isabella replied softly. "That's why I didn't bring this to Papa."
I looked at her sharply.
"You went behind his back?"
"I went around him," she corrected. "Big difference."
The elevator doors slid open. We stepped inside.
"She found out about Daria recently," Isabella said. "Not from Doyle. From rumors. From whispers about you."
My chest tightened, I'd been around Daria so much... I forgot people knew me as a billionaire Costa son.
"She doesn't know where Daria is," Isabella added quickly. "She just knows her daughter is alive."
Good.
"Where is she," I asked again.
Isabella met my eyes, serious now. No smile. No teasing.
"Safe," she said. "For now. I moved her twice already. New phone. New address. She thinks I'm just... someone helping her disappear again."
"And you didn't tell her who you were," I said.
"No," Isabella replied. "I didn't tell her anything that would get her killed."
The elevator dinged.
We stepped out.
"You did good," I said, quietly.
Isabella blinked, then rolled her eyes.
Then she scoffed. "Don't get sentimental. It's gross."
But her shoulders relaxed just a little.
"Doyle is going to realize she's missing from his radar," Isabella continued. "When he does, he'll panic. That's when he'll make mistakes."
"He already did, a big mistake." I said.
She nodded. "Taking Daria was a desperate move."
I turned to her fully now.
"Nothing happens to either of them," I said. "Not her. Not her mother."
Isabella held my gaze. "Then stop pretending this is just business."
The words landed.
"She's your weakness," Isabella added. "And honestly?"
I waited.
She shrugged. "About time you open that cold heart of yours, and let someone in."
I didn't respond.
Because for the first time in my life, someone else had said it out loud.
And I didn't deny it.
I stopped walking.
"Isabella," I said, turning back to her, "why are you helping me?"
She blinked like she hadn't expected the question.
Then she laughed once. Almost tired.
"Because I care," she said simply.
I frowned. "You have a funny way of showing it."
She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. "Yeah. I know."
She looked at me then. Really looked at me. No attitude. No sarcasm. Shocking.
"I care about you," she said. "And Lorenzo. No matter how many times you both pretend I don't matter, or act like I'm just noise in the background."
My jaw tightened. Maybe we did sometimes.
"You're my family," she continued. "You always have been. And I don't care how many times you shut me out, I will always have your backs."
I didn't say anything.
"You think I snoop because I'm bored," Isabella went on. "You think I'm annoying. That I talk too much. That I stick my nose where it doesn't belong."
She shrugged.
"But the truth is? I'm always watching. I'm always checking. I'm always keeping tabs—on threats, on deals, on people who get too close to you."
I stared at her.
"I have people you don't even know about," she said calmly. "People who watch you. Who watch Enzo. Who report things before they become problems."
She was smart. I knew that.
"That's how I found her mother," Isabella added. "That's how I knew Doyle was circling again. That's how I knew Daria was in danger before you even realized how deep it went."
Silence stretched between us.
"You hate me so much," she said quietly, "that you never stop to ask why I do what I do."
"That's not—"
"It is," she cut in. "You both push me aside. You act like I'm not important. Like I'm not smart enough. Like I don't deserve to know things."
Her voice wavered for the first time.
"That's why I stay close to Papa," she admitted. "Because at least there, I'm useful. At least there, I'm seen. At least he loves me."
Something ugly settled in my chest.
She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Doesn't mean you two don't annoy the shit out of me. You absolutely do."
I snorted before I could stop myself.
She looked at me pointedly. "But caring doesn't stop just because you're annoying."
I shook my head slowly. "Look at you," I muttered. "Getting all sentimental."
She rolled her eyes again. "Don't get used to it."
Then I asked, quieter, "If you care so much... why do you make my life hell?"
Her shoulders dropped.
"Because you don't show that you care about me," she said honestly. "And it hurts. So I hurt you back."
That landed harder than I expected.
I mean I'd always protect Isabella, no matter what. Blood is blood. Family comes first.
"Sometimes I get in my head," she went on. "Papa wants me married. Wants me busy. Wants me controlled. And sometimes... I take it out on you and Enzo because you're the only ones I actually have."
She swallowed.
"I just want to be involved," Isabella said. "I want you to keep me in the loop the way you keep each other in the loop. I don't want to feel like I'm alone in this family."
I looked away.
"I'm sorry about your mom," she said then, softer. "About everything that happened. About the mess our parents made."
She lifted her chin.
"But I am not sorry I was born into this family. I am not sorry that you're my brother. And I am definitely not sorry that I care. I know you don't fully hate... or else you wouldn't be here listening."
Her voice steadied. She was right.
"I will always care," she said. "That's what older sisters do. We protect. We get angry. We meddle. We worry."
She met my eyes again.
"But underneath all of it, we're blood. And that doesn't change."
Made in blood.
"So you're not getting rid of me," she finished. "Not now. Not ever."
I exhaled slowly.
"Yeah," I said. "I figured."
She smirked. "Good."
Then, quieter, I added, "And... thanks. For helping."
She waved it off, already turning away. "Don't get emotional on me now. That's my job."
But she stayed close, I let her.
I can't believe we are already at 3k reads what! Thank you guys omg?!?
I'm actually overwhelmed with the love y'all showing this book. Ugh! ?? love u
xoxo
Also... How we feeling about Isabella now???