Chapter 14 Isabella #2
Luca pushed back from the desk slowly, standing to his full height.
The shift in the room was instant and heavy.
He walked around the desk, stopping just in front of her.
He was standing so close to her, she could smell his cologne.
God, she loved the way that he smelled, and as her traitorous body leaned into him, she wanted to curse at herself.
“You think I’m going to let you walk out of here after everything that’s happened?” he asked quietly.
“I think you don’t get to keep me in a cage,” she said, defiantly raising her chin at him.
His jaw tightened. “This home is not your cage.”
“It feels like one,” she countered.
“Then you’re not paying attention.” Her breath hitched, but she didn’t step back and didn’t look away.
“Then explain it to me,” she said.
“You want to see him?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You want answers?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You think he’s going to tell you something that makes this better?”
Her voice dropped. “No.” She wasn’t naive, and she knew that even if her father admitted to selling her to the Russians, it wouldn’t change anything that had happened to her—and to Luca.
“Then why do it?” he questioned. Her chest tightened because that was the real question—the one she didn’t want to answer.
“I need to know there’s nothing left there worth holding onto,” she said.
Luca’s gaze shifted slightly. “And if there isn’t?” he asked.
“Then I walk away,” she said as though it would be easy to do. She had already walked away from her family to marry Luca. Having to say goodbye to her father was something that she didn’t want to have to do, but she would.
“And if there is something worth holding onto?” he pressed.
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “There won’t be,” she whispered.
“You don’t know that,” he said. “Maybe he’s not in on this.”
“I know him,” she breathed. “Or I thought I did.” That was the truth—ugly, raw, and unavoidable.
Luca exhaled slowly. He was weighing the risks and going through every outcome in his head. “You don’t go alone,” he finally said.
Relief hit too fast, and she hated that. “I didn’t expect to go alone to see him.”
“You don’t talk to him without me there,” he continued.
Her jaw tightened. “That’s not—”
“It is,” he said, cutting her off. “You don’t get to change our rules, honey.
It’s my way or the highway.” God, she hated when he acted like a smug son-of-a-bitch.
She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have a deal, but this was important.
She needed to hear her father tell her the truth, even if it was going to gut her.
She wanted to argue with him, but she knew that he wasn’t wrong. “Fine.” That one word seemed to surprise him. She saw it in his eyes.
“What happens if I decide that this is a horrible idea and say no again?” he asked.
Her answer came immediately. “Then, I go anyway.”
“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. She was giving him an ultimatum, and she knew that Luca didn’t like those, but she had no choice. Isabella knew how to play with fire and not get burned.
Luca stepped closer, his hand coming up to her jaw, holding her still—not rough, just enough to make sure she didn’t look away. “You stay next to me,” he said quietly. “The entire time.”
“I will,” she promised.
“You don’t react, no matter what he tells you,” he said.
That almost made her laugh. “Don’t react?” she asked.
“Yes, you keep it together,” he insisted.
Her pulse felt as though it was racing. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t get to tell her how to react to her father, or anyone else, but that wasn’t going to get her in to see her father.
For now, she had to play by her new husband’s rules, even if she hated them.
“I will,” she agreed.
“If I say we leave, then we leave,” he said. She hesitated, just for a second, and it was almost as though he could read her mind. “Isabella,” he said in warning.
Her eyes locked back onto his. “Fine.” Luca held her there for one more second, searching her face like he was making sure she meant every word that he was saying.
“Get your jacket,” he ordered. Her heart kicked in her chest, and she wasn’t sure if she was excited that she was getting her way or terrified that she was going to have to face her father.
“You’re serious?”
He gave her a look and even rolled his eyes at her. “Do I look like I’m joking?” He didn’t, but he never did.
She turned toward the door, then paused, just for a second. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
Luca didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to because this wasn’t about thanks. This was about control and making sure when she faced the truth—she didn’t face it alone.
She and Luca walked into the hospital, hand in hand, with Dante and the rest of his army waiting in the parking lot.
He had come prepared to fight a damn war, but then again, he never traveled light.
She was beginning to see that Luca’s world was constantly evolving, but always dangerous.
He had learned how to survive, and when it came right down to it, she was happy that he had her back.
The nurse showed them back to her father's room, on the second floor.
She hesitated until Luca squeezed her hand into his own, silently letting her know that he was there with her.
She walked into the dim room. It was quiet—too quiet.
Medical equipment hummed softly in the background.
And on the bed, her father lay looking frail and so pale.
She had never seen him look so helpless before.
Antonio Romano was alive, but just barely.
Her chest tightened painfully as she stepped closer. He looked smaller than usual—not like the man she remembered when she saw him just months earlier. He didn’t look like the man who had controlled everything about her life until she met Luca.
“Papa,” she whispered. His eyes opened slowly, as though he was trying to focus and find her in the room. And for a moment, just a moment, she saw it in his eyes—relief.
“Isabella,” he rasped. Her throat tightened as she stepped closer. She needed to see his face when she asked him her next question. She needed to know that he was telling the truth.
“Is it true?” she asked. His expression shifted just slightly, but that was enough.
Her heart cracked. “Tell me,” she said, her voice shaking now despite her best effort. He looked away, and everything inside her broke. “You did it,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question, but more of a realization, and whether or not her father realized it, he had just signed his own death sentence.
“I did it to protect you,” he said weakly. The words hit harder than anything else as she let out a hollow laugh.
“That’s what you call it?” she asked. “Protection.”
“They would’ve killed you,” he said. “This way—”
“This way, you handed me to them instead,” she finished for him. “You were willing to turn me over to the very men who threatened to kill me.” Her voice rose, sharp and shaking. “Like I was nothing?”
“You were leverage,” he said. The room went silent, because that was worse than betrayal.
Her eyes burned. “You don’t even hear yourself,” she whispered.
“It was the only way,” he insisted.
“No,” she said, stepping back from his bed.
“No, it wasn’t.” His gaze flicked toward the door and toward the presence behind her.
She didn’t have to turn to know who was there—Luca.
He had given her some space, but not too much.
He made a promise to be there for her and have her back, and that was exactly what he was doing.
Her father’s expression darkened. “He took you instead,” her father said. There was accusation in his voice, blame even, like Luca had stolen something from him. Like she had been his to give away, and that made Isabella’s stomach twist.
“No,” she said quietly.
Her father frowned at her. “What?” She turned slowly, facing Luca now, meeting his eyes. And for the first time, there was no confusion left. There was no doubt or hesitation.
“He didn’t take me,” she said. “He kept me safe.” Silence filled the room because now, she understood everything. Her father hadn’t saved her. He had sacrificed her. And Luca had stepped into that deal and rewritten it, saving her life.
Her chest rose slowly, steadily as she looked back at the man in the bed.
The man she used to trust and used to believe in.
She loved her father without question, and he did this to her.
“You will never get to decide anything for me, ever again,” she said.
Her voice didn’t shake this time, and that was good because she didn’t want her father to know that he had broken her.
Something inside her had snapped, and changed her already.
It had hardened her, and there was no going back to what her father used to mean to her—not anymore.
She turned and took Luca’s offered hand, not bothering to look back at her father as he called her name.
He was no longer her family. Her father was dead to her now, and there would be no changing that fact for her.
Luca was her family—the only family that she needed, and it was about time she started showing him that.