The house was quiet after the end of the engagement party. The guests had left, music had stopped, and there remained only a few servants patrolling the halls to clean. Isabella sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at the ring that rested on the finger of her left hand. It was weighty, even though it was not big.

The door groaned open without a knock, and Sofia came in. Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks streaked from crying.

"You don't have to do this," Sofia gasped, crossing the space towards her.

"Yes, I do," Isabella answered quietly. She didn't lift her head.

Sofia's head shook rapidly. "He scares me, Isabella. Dante isn't normal. He's not like other guys. He's deadly."

Isabella gasped for breath. "I know." She made her eyes lock with her sister's. "But I can handle him. What I can't handle is to see you thrown into Adrian's clutches. That would kill you. So please, don't fight me on this."

Sofia advanced and hugged her arms about her, hiding her face in Isabella's shoulder. "Then at least call me. Every day. I don't wish to feel like you've disappeared from my existence."

"I'll call," Isabella promised. "But you must take care too. If Father ever finds out about your taboo love, it will be the end."

Sofia hastily nodded. "I'll be silent. I swear."

The next day broke too soon. Isabella closed her bags deliberately, folding each one of her dresses carefully, though her hands trembled. While the servants were removing her trunks downstairs, Elena slipped into her room.

"Are you sure you are doing this?" Elena asked, holding her arms clasped around her body.

"Do I have a choice?" Isabella retorted bitterly, not looking up from her trunk.

"You can still escape," Elena breathed. "I'd help you."

Isabella closed the bag. "Run where? Father would track me down. Dante would track me down. There is no escape." The best she could hope for was to endure it.

Elena slumped. Her face was filled with sorrow. "Then I will wait for your call. Each night. Promise you won't close me out."

"I promise," said Isabella, embracing her.

When she finally came down the stairs, her mother was waiting at the front door. Lucia Romano enveloped Isabella in her arms at once, holding her just a fraction of a second longer than usual.

"Listen to me," her mother whispered. "I know Dante's reputation. But I think... I think he might actually love you, in his own way."

Isabella stood frozen at those words. She didn't speak. She just kissed her mother's cheek and backed away.

Outside, already waiting for her by the black car was Dante. He was looming over it, speaking to one of his men. His eyes swept over her once he saw her, as if taking inventory of something he already owned.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded once without looking at him.

The drive to the De Luca mansion was quiet. Dante sat beside her in the back seat, his presence heavy. Two of his men were in the front, and another car followed close behind. Isabella kept her eyes on the window, watching the city pass by.

After a while, Dante finally spoke. "You'll be safe in my house. No one touches what's mine."

She did not speak. Her hands gripped tightly together in her lap, nails biting into her skin.

When the car came to a stop, Isabella looked up at the massive gates. Behind them lay a house bigger than she had ever known. Walls of stone, wide balconies, and guards carrying weapons at every turn.

The gates creaked open, and as the car proceeded, two women stepped forward to greet them.

The first was elegant, elegant, and had a subtle strength in her movement. She was in her forties, at least. Dante kissed both cheeks before introducing her.

"This is my mother, Bianca," he declared.

Bianca's smile softened when she turned to face Isabella. She grasped Isabella's hands carefully. "Welcome, dear. You must be tired from all that. Come in, you'll be home here."

The other woman was around Isabella's age, with bright eyes and a shy smile.

"Her name is Giulia," Dante said. "She is my sister."

"You are so pretty," Giulia said, smiling, and stepped closer. "Don't be afraid. I'll make you feel home. We will have tea in the afternoons. I will present you to people."

Their friendliness caught Isabella unawares. She nodded politely, remaining a stranger.

Dante touched her lightly on the back of her neck, leading her toward the doors. Inside, the mansion was no less formidable. High ceilings with chandeliers, gleaming floors, pricey furniture, and paintings adorning the walls. It seemed perfect, but it didn't quite feel like home.

The first days went slowly. The staff was respectful to her. Bianca often asked her about her favourite dishes and sometimes stayed with her for short talks. Giulia visited her room often, inviting her to go for a walk in the garden or play some cards. She tried to make Isabella smile, and for a few minutes, Isabella forgot she was somewhere else.

But Dante's shadow never went away. At dinner, he always sat next to her. In the garden, he loitered in the background. At night, his footfalls sounded outside her door.

One evening, Isabella finally grumbled at dinner. "You don't have to monitor me every moment," she said.

Dante cut into his food, refusing to look at her. "I do." His tone was flat, authoritative. "You are mine, Isabella. If you walk away alone again, Adrian will try to take you. And the next time, you mayn't come back."

Isabella gripped her fork hard in her fingers. His warning terrified her because she knew he was correct.

Later that evening, Giulia came into the sitting room with a deck of cards. They played for more than an hour, Isabella laughing when she lost round after round. For a short time, it felt like nothing was wrong, like she wasn't a prisoner.

But when Dante walked into the room, the fantasy ended. Giulia retreated immediately, leaving them by themselves.

Dante sat across from Isabella, his eyes fixed on her. "You appear to be adjusting," he said.

"Do I have an option?" she flung at him flatly.

"No," Dante relinquished, slouching back in his chair. "But you're alive. That's something more than Adrian would offer you."

His words sat between them with heavy silence.

The days blurred together-dinner, supervised walks, quiet nights. Isabella began to notice small things about Dante. The way he commanded his men with a calm tone. The way his eyes lingered on her as if he was memorizing everything. And once in a while, when he didn't realize she was paying attention, there was something soft in his expression.

However, the cage feeling never went away from her. No matter how sweet Bianca was, no matter how sweet Giulia tried to be, Isabella knew she wasn't free.

Evening five, she walked by Dante's office when she heard feet shuffling in a hurry. One of his men walked in.

"Adrian has struck back," the man spat in a hurry.

Isabella froze in the hallway, her stomach knotting.

"What happened?" Dante snapped sharply.

The man lowered his voice, but Isabella still managed to hear the words. "It's Sofia. She's been taken."

Isabella gasped, her hand flying to her lips. She darted into the room without a thought. "What did you just say?"

Dante spun toward her, his jaw tight, his eyes shaded.

The truth was clear. Sofia was gone.

Isabella couldn't catch breath straight. She couldn't get news of Sofia's kidnapping out of her head. She sat on the bed, her legs twitching, fists grasped in front of her. Each second was weighing more.

The door creaked open, and there was Dante striding along as if he had done nothing wrong.

"You knew?" "What calling?" Isabella demanded, immediately issuing her stern voice. You fucking knew that Adrian's men have my sister?

After Dante walked through, the door shut. He walked slowly. "I heard."

"You heard?" Isabella's tone raised. "That's all you have to say? My sister is missing, my sister is gone and you're standing here like you don't care."

"It's Marco's fault," Dante said. His voice was cold, even a little harsh. "Adrian is the one punishing him, not me. Not you."

Isabella shot up so fast that the chair behind her was dragged across the floor. "She's a kid. She has nothing to do with this. You can't just stand by."

"You don't know what you are asking,"Dante answered. His eyes narrowed. "If I go now, Adrian goes to war. He wants that."

"I don't care!" Her throat was on fire."Stephanie shouted at Isabella. "You're supposed to be strong. People are afraid of you. But you won't do anything for an innocent girl? What kind of man are you?"

Dante came nearer, his voice low. "Watch what you say."

"No," Isabella exclaimed. Her chest was heaving wildly."

"You don't scare me. You're acting big, but you're fleeing. You're a coward if you let her die."

Dante shot her a look for a moment. His jaw was set and his eyes smoldered. And then he left without another word.

Isabella collapsed back onto the bed, shuddering. Her breathing was ragged and irregular. She covered her face with her hands but the tears flowed freely.

---

Dinner that night was funereal. Bianca and Giulia sat at the long table, plates of food untouched. Isabella already pushed her plate away after having taken only one bite.

Giulia finally broke the silence. "We heard about Sofia. I'm sorry."

Isabella stared up. "Why won't someone do something?"

"Why, this is dangerous," Bianca said slowly. Her hands lay folded on the table, rings glinting in the light. "All the people are going to die if Dante answers.

"So we abandon her to them?" Isabella hurled at her. "We just all ignore her?

No one told me so," she replied in a low voice. "Dante would never admit it, but he cares. He won't show it, but he's scared. He will find ways to go around it."

Isabella shook her head. "You really believe so? He just told me he ain't waging the war."

Bianca stretched across the table. "Child, codes exist in this world. And if we violate them, we pay in blood."

"Alright, I don't care about your rules," Isabella said, pulling away. "I care about my sister. And if he won't help, I will."

Giulia's face went white. "Isabella, don't be stupid. Adrian would take advantage of you too."

Isabella said nothing. She rose and departed from the table, her hunger vanished.

In her own room, she paced. She picked up her phone twice, trying to call her dad, but the line was dead. She considered calling Elena, then gave up. What could her friend possibly do? Nothing.

Her stomach hurt from being so tight. She repeated over and over, "She's just a girl. She's scared. She needs me." Over and over.

She went to the window and stared at the dark grounds. The house was quiet, but her chest was loud with panic. She wanted to scream.

The door opened without a knock. She turned quickly.

Dante stood there. His shirt sleeves were rolled, his face unreadable.

"Get dressed," he said.

Isabella froze. "What?"

"Get dressed," he repeated. His voice was hard. "We're leaving."

Her heart jumped. "You're going to get her?"

"Yes."

"Why now?" she asked, confused.

"Because I chose." His eyes were fixed on hers. "And because Adrian thinks he can take what belongs to me."

The words seared, yet Isabella remained silent. She ran to her closet and seized a black coat. Her hands shook as she pulled it on. She knelt to tie her shoes, nearly dropping one.

She felt his eyes on her the whole way.

When she stood up, Dante stepped forward. His hand lifted her chin so she had no choice but to look into his eyes.

"You're going to stay close," he stated. "You're going to be quiet. And if you disobey me once tonight, you'll regret it."

Her mouth was dry. She nodded.

"Good." Dante turned on his heel, already heading for the door. "Let's go."

Isabella followed him, her heart pounding. She knew there was no turning back now.

The black cars stopped in front of the warehouse. Men jumped out fast, guns ready. Dante stepped out last, calm like he had done this a hundred times. I sat in the back seat, my hands shaking as I looked at the old building. My sister was in there. I wanted to run in, but Dante's hand came down on my arm.

"Stay here," he said.

"I can't. She's my sister," I said back, my voice sharp.

"You'll only get in the way," he said. "If something happens to you, then what? You think I'll let you ruin everything?"

I bit my lip hard, my chest rising and falling. "I don't care about everything. I just want her safe."

His eyes cut to me, dark and cold. "She will be safe. Because I'm going in there."

The doors burst open and his men rushed in. Gunshots started right away, loud and close. I flinched at every sound. Dante walked forward with steady steps. He didn't even duck when bullets cracked near the walls. He just lifted his gun and fired back, each shot controlled. I had never seen someone like that. No fear at all.

I leaned forward, clutching the car seat. "Please... please be okay," I whispered to myself.

Minutes felt like hours. Shouts and gunfire filled the air. Smoke drifted out of the broken windows. Then I saw movement. One of Dante's men dragged someone out-it was Sofia. Her wrists were tied, her face pale, her hair messy. She stumbled, coughing.

"Sofia!" I screamed. I threw the door open and ran to her. My arms wrapped around her before she could fall. She was shaking hard.

"Bella," she whispered, her voice weak. "I thought I wouldn't see you again."

"You're okay now," I said, tears burning my eyes. "You're okay."

Dante came out right after, blood on his shirt, but not his. He gave quick orders to his men. "Get the cars ready. Watch the back exits."

Behind him, Adrian appeared in the doorway. His face twisted with hate, his gun raised. "This isn't over, Isabella!" he shouted before one of Dante's men pulled him back with gunfire. Adrian ran into the smoke and was gone.

Dante's jaw tightened. He didn't chase him. Instead, he looked at me holding Sofia. His eyes softened just for a second before hardening again. "Get her in the car."

We drove back fast. Sofia leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. I brushed her hair back, whispering small things to calm her. She barely spoke. I could feel her trembling the whole way.

Back at the mansion, Dante's doctor came to check her. He cleaned her wrists and gave her water. I sat on the bed beside her, holding her hand.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"A little," she said softly. "But I'm fine. Better than before."

I nodded and smoothed the blanket over her. My chest finally eased. She was alive. That was all I cared about.

The door opened again. Dante stepped inside. His presence filled the room at once. His shirt still had bloodstains, his sleeves rolled up. His eyes landed on Sofia, then shifted to me.

"She will recover," he said. "You should rest too."

"I'm not leaving her," I said, looking down at Sofia.

"You can sit with her tomorrow," he replied. "Tonight, you need to understand something."

I frowned. "What now?"

He walked closer, his shoes clicking against the floor. "You only survived today because of me. Don't forget it."

My stomach twisted with anger. "You want me to thank you for doing the right thing? For saving my sister when you're the reason she was taken in the first place?"

His eyes flashed. "Watch what you say."

"No," I said louder. "I'm tired of watching what I say. You think I'm some doll you can move around. You don't care what happens to us as long as it benefits you."

He stepped closer. My back touched the wall beside the bed. His hand pressed against the wall near my face. His voice dropped low. "If I didn't care, your sister would be dead right now. And you would be kneeling at Adrian's feet."

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. His face was inches from mine. I could feel his breath, hot and steady. My body froze even as my thoughts screamed at me to move.

"Dante..." I said, my voice shaky.

His eyes went to my lips. For a moment, the air between us felt too heavy. He leaned closer. My chest tightened. I thought he was going to kiss me. My lips parted on their own.

But he stopped. His lips hovered just short of mine. His eyes burned into me. Then he whispered, "When I take you, it won't be by accident."

He pulled back at once, turning and leaving the room without another word. The door shut behind him. I stood frozen, my hands trembling. My heart beat so loud I could barely hear Sofia's quiet breathing beside me.

I sat down again, pressing my hands over my face. I didn't know if I hated him or if I hated myself more for the way my body had reacted. I stayed like that until sleep pulled me down.