Chapter 3

Isabella POV

I didn't lower my dagger. The Underboss of the Moretti family was bleeding out on my floor, yet his dark eyes held no fear, only a sharp, calculating gleam.

"You're trespassing," I said, my voice a lethal whisper.

Damien let out a harsh breath, his hand pressing against the dark stain on his abdomen. "Julian's men are thorough, but sloppy. I need a medic, Isabella. I know about your... specialized training." He locked eyes with me. "Fix me. In return, I give you Julian's every move. And when the time comes, you'll have my protection."

A devil's bargain. But a dying Underboss was a liability; a living one in my debt was an asset.

"Lie still," I ordered.

For the next hour, the warehouse became a makeshift operating room. I dug the bullet out of his flesh with sterilized tweezers and no anesthesia. Damien didn't scream. He just gripped the concrete floor, his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth would shatter. When I finally stitched the wound shut, the air between us had shifted-a fragile, blood-soaked alliance forged in the shadows.

By the time the sun bled over the Chicago skyline, I had left the safe house. It was time to go on the offensive.

I stood in the center of a deserted Rossi freight yard, the morning mist clinging to the rusted shipping containers. I had intentionally leaked my location. I didn't have to wait long.

Tires crunched on gravel as two black SUVs boxed me in. Luca, my father's most loyal Soldier, stepped out with seven Associates flanking him. He looked at my ruined wedding dress with a sneer.

"Come quietly, little bird," Luca mocked, reaching out to grab my arm. "The Don wants his runaway bride."

He never even saw my hands move.

Before his fingers could graze my skin, I caught his wrist, pivoted, and twisted. *Crack.*

Luca's agonizing scream echoed through the yard as his shoulder dislocated. As his men surged forward, my muscle memory took over. A throat strike here, a shattered kneecap there. In less than thirty seconds, eight men were groaning on the blood-spattered gravel.

I stepped over a writhing Associate and planted my heel firmly on Luca's chest.

"A Soldier who can't even tell a predator from prey. Pathetic. Now, you will drive me to see my father. And you will open the door for me."

An hour later, the heavy oak doors of the Rossi Family Estate swung open.

I walked into the Main Hall, the opulent Persian rugs and crystal chandeliers a stark contrast to the violence I had just orchestrated.

*Crash.*

An expensive crystal whiskey glass shattered inches from my boots, spraying amber liquid across the floor.

"You shameless whore!" Antonio Rossi roared, his face purple with rage. "You ruined this family's future!"

I didn't flinch. I stepped over the broken glass, my gaze sweeping over the stunned servants and guards, before locking onto the man who had sold me.

"You dare speak of shame? You, who kept a mistress from a rival family for twenty years? Whose bastard son is older than your heir? You, who pimped out your other bastard daughter to my husband, hoping to play both sides? Our family's honor didn't die last night. It died in your bed, decades ago."

The silence that followed was deafening. The air was sucked out of the room. Antonio stood paralyzed, his darkest, most destructive secrets laid bare for the entire household to hear. The mighty Don had been publicly executed without a single bullet.

"Isabella!"

Caterina, my stepmother, stepped forward, her face a mask of aristocratic outrage. She tried to summon her matriarchal authority, pointing a trembling finger at me. "How dare you speak to your father this way! Have you forgotten your place?"

I let out a dry, mocking laugh, cutting her off completely.

"You will not speak to me of family. My mother is dead. You are merely the woman who warmed her bed after she was gone. You have no right to call yourself my mother. You, who stole from her trust fund and shipped me off to a boarding school in Switzerland for fifteen years. You taught me one rule, Caterina: survive. And I learned it very well."

Caterina's face drained of all color. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was stripped of her moral high ground, her whole body trembling as she stared at the stranger I had become.