Chapter 6 Ties That Bind

Luca sat in his father's study, staring at the bloodstain on his cuff.

Rafael's death had been necessary. A message. A warning. But why did it feel like a line had been crossed?

The soft creak of the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"You should get some rest."

Luca didn't have to look up to know it was Isabella Moretti.

He exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "Rest isn't exactly an option right now."

Isabella stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She moved with quiet grace, her dark hair pulled back, her eyes sharp with intelligence. She wasn't a part of the DeLuca family by blood, but she might as well have been. Her father had been one of Salvatore DeLuca's most trusted men, and now, she was one of the few people Luca trusted.

Even if he shouldn't.

She tilted her head, studying him. "Word is already spreading. The Scarpettis will think twice before trying to turn another one of your men."

Luca let out a humorless chuckle. "And what about my own people? How many of them just realized they'd rather see me dead than follow me?"

Isabella didn't answer immediately. Instead, she walked over to the small bar cart, pouring two glasses of whiskey. She set one in front of Luca before taking the other for herself.

"Fear and loyalty aren't the same thing, Luca. But sometimes, one has to come before the other."

Luca picked up the glass, swirling the amber liquid before taking a slow sip. "You sound like Niccolo."

Isabella smirked. "Niccolo is a blunt weapon. I prefer a scalpel."

A comfortable silence settled between them. This was what Luca liked about Isabella. She didn't fill the space with useless words. She wasn't afraid of him, but she also wasn't trying to challenge him.

He glanced at her over the rim of his glass. "Why are you really here?"

Isabella met his gaze, and for the first time that night, her expression softened. "Because I know what this is doing to you."

Luca clenched his jaw. "I'm fine."

She didn't call him a liar. She didn't have to.

Instead, she reached forward, fingers brushing over the blood on his cuff. "This doesn't wash off, you know."

Luca went still.

For the first time since his father's death, something in his chest twisted. Not guilt. Not regret. Something else.

Something he couldn't afford to feel.

With measured movements, he pulled his arm back and stood. "I should check in with Niccolo."

Isabella sighed but didn't push. She simply leaned back, watching him with something dangerously close to understanding.

"Of course, Don DeLuca."

Her voice was light, teasing. But Luca knew the walls were back up.

Just like he needed them to be.

He walked out without another word.

Because Isabella Moretti was dangerous.

Not because she was an enemy.

But because she was one of the few people who still made him feel human.

And in this world, that was the greatest weakness of all.