Page 30 of Marriage of Revenge

Testing our ability to spill blood personally.

Each challenge designed to eliminate the weak, but also to show who has the infrastructure to support the Moretti empire. Or tear it down.

“We’re not asking for blood, but accidents happen.”

Another pause. Another glance at me.

“The two competitors who make it to first and second place in the race will fight in the ring.”

“Yeah!” The approving shouts pierce the atmosphere, and I see her—the subtle way her body tightens, a silent scream in a sea of noise. It’s almost imperceptible, but it’s there, a light shift, a silent battle. Her hands, elegant and delicate, clutch at the fabric of her dress, and her face, a mask of stoicism, betrays the faintest flicker of fear, of vulnerability.

Her father, the master of ceremonies, continues his speech, his voice cold, each word dripping with unspoken threats. “I know some of you were upset that Isabella danced with Antonio yesterday…and only with him.” The tension in the room tightens, a living entity winding around us all, drawing us closer to the inevitable climax. “But you have to understand, it was somewhat of a family reunion for us.” His words are like shards of ice, calculated, piercing, and I can see the uncertainty flash in Isabella’s eyes, the shadows of unsaid words hanging heavy between them.

“However,” he says, his voice laced with a sinister amusement. “Everyone should have the pleasure of knowing what they’re purchasing. Winning. Earning.” His words hang in the air, a reminder of the true nature of this game. “You will each have five minutes with Isabella before the tournament begins.”

Her father's words make the room vibrate with dark possibilities. But it's the way she sits straighter, chin lifting like she's about to step on stage, that makes my blood sing. She thinks she's being brave. Doesn't realize she's just showing them all where to strike.

Isabella’s father’s gaze sweeps over us, a predator assessing his prey. “Our bodyguards will remain outside the room, and of course, we have cameras. So, you don’t take too many liberties. She is pure, after all.” He pauses, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head, plotting, planning. “We’ll proceed in reverse alphabetical order. So, Radomir, you’ll go first, and Antonio, you’ll have the pleasure of being last.”

The room is a symphony of murmurs and whispers and laughter, loud laughter, but all I can see is her, the way she sits a little straighter, the way her eyes, those light brown eyes filled with mystery and pain (and maybe defiance?) remain locked on mine.

A silent battle of wills, a whisper of what could have been, what can never be. And in this moment, amidst the chaos and the noise, I swear, I can hear her heartbeat.

But I won’t let myself be swayed by the snake she can be. Stakes are high, and the price, the price is everything.

Henrik, with a smirk etched across his face, leans in, “Five minutes can be... quite revealing.”

My shoulders tighten. If he does anything to her… I clench my fists, glaring at him. “Just don't damage what's mine," I tell Henrik, my voice a velvet threat.

We both know the truth beneath it: touch her, and I’ll show you why they call me The Beast—one agonizing minute at a time.

CHAPTER 15 - ISABELLA

I’d like to knowwhat else my grandmother put in this contract. And why? Couldn’t she have written that I could make my own decisions? That I didn’t need to go through this.

That if anyone touched me, they’d pay the price with those shadowed security forces no one heard of. Maybe that contract doesn’t even exist. My father is a master manipulator after all.

I sigh. I'd also like my heart to stop fluttering. But like so many other things, it's not paying attention to me.

My father is punishing me for last night. It started with making me wear this silky dress—and being pissed off about Paola not showing up. They don't know Paola is linked to Antonio, and I'm not going to open my mouth. My silence feels like the only power I have left.

Antonio.

He's a few feet away, and I want to claw last night's dreams from my mind. Because in those dreams, he promised to honor and cherish me... when in reality, he basically told me he's abeast in all senses of the word. And why didn't that scare me as much as it should have? What is wrong with me?

My father doesn't spare me a glance, and it shouldn't twist another dagger inside my gut, but it does.

Five minutes. I can hold my own for five minutes with each of these men. Including my former stepbrother.

No big deal. Right.

My father leans in toward me. "Your actions have repercussions. You should know that by now."

And the shiver running down my spine? It has tentacles and tries to suffocate me like that time the chemo burned through my veins. But at least then, the nurses cared if I was in pain.

"Naomi is in more trouble than you can think. Plotting an escape? What is wrong with you two?"

"I... I wanted to breathe. That's all." Just like those nights in the hospital when the walls closed in and the monitors wouldn't stop beeping. But at least then I had Naomi sneaking in past visiting hours, the nurses letting her go through those double doors, the ones protecting us because we had the immune system of a newborn. That one night she made me laugh until my chest hurt for better reasons.

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