Page 11 of Twisted Vows

Then, Matteo reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring another glass before pushing it toward her. “Drink?”

Isla considered refusing. But instead, she took the glass, lifting it to her lips, letting the burn chase away the chill in her bones.

And as they sat there, two enemies bound by something neither of them wanted to name, Isla realized one thing.

The war between them wasn’t ending.

It was just beginning.

Chapter Eight

The ballroom of the DeLuca villa was a spectacle of power and excess. Chandeliers cast golden light over the assembled elites, their laughter and whispered negotiations weaving a web of influence that stretched far beyond these walls. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and aged whiskey, masking the undercurrent of tension that always lingered in rooms filled with men who would kill each other if given the opportunity.

Isla stood at the edge of the grand hall, her fingers loosely curled around a glass of champagne, untouched. She wore her defiance like armor, draped in silk and diamonds, her back straight, her expression impassive as she watched the power plays unfold before her. She was the only woman in this room who had no choice in her position. A queen placed beside a king she had never wanted, forced to play her role in his empire.

But if they thought she would remain silent, they were sorely mistaken.

Her gaze flicked to Matteo’s second-in-command, Luca. He was charming in a way Matteo was not—smooth, effortless in his charisma. Where Matteo’s presence was a force of gravity, Luca’s was an invitation, a beckoning to lean in closer, to listen. And Isla needed an ally.

She stepped closer, lowering her voice just enough to force him to lean in. “Tell me, Luca, do all of Matteo’s men follow orders blindly, or do some dare to think for themselves?”

Luca chuckled, his blue eyes flashing with interest. “That depends on the order.”

She tilted her head slightly, allowing a small, knowing smile to play on her lips. “And if the order was to keep me locked away like a prize in a cage?”

Luca’s smirk faltered, just slightly. “I’d say you should ask your husband that question.”

She barely had time to react before the air shifted, before a shadow loomed behind her, bringing a chill despite the heat of the crowded room.

Matteo.

His presence was a force unto itself, dark and all-consuming. His hand closed around her wrist, firm but controlled, a warning in his grip. Conversations around them quieted, eyes discreetly darting in their direction before looking away. No one wanted to be caught in the storm brewing between them.

“A word, wife,” Matteo said, his voice quiet but edged with steel.

She could have refused. She could have caused a scene. But instead, she let him pull her away, her pulse thrumming not from fear—but from something far more dangerous.

The moment they were alone, Matteo spun her around, pressing her against the cold marble wall of the dimly lit corridor. His grip remained firm, his dark eyes burning with something she couldn’t name.

“What exactly are you trying to prove, Isla?”

She met his gaze without flinching. “That I’m not yours to control.”

His lips curled into something that was not quite a smile. “And yet, here you are, in my home, wearing my ring, carrying my name.”

A thrill of fury coiled in her chest. “A name I never asked for.”

His fingers brushed against her jaw, deceptively gentle. “And yet, it’s the only name that will keep you alive in this world.”

The truth of his words stung more than she wanted to admit. Because despite everything, despite her hatred for him, she knew that being Isla DeLuca came with a power she could never have had as Isla Marino.

But that didn’t mean she would surrender.

She pressed her palms against his chest, pushing him back just enough to breathe. “You think I can be tamed?”

Matteo exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Tamed? No, wife.” His voice dropped lower, his thumb tracing over the pulse point at her throat. “I don’t want to tame you. I want to break you.”

Her breath hitched, her body betraying her as heat spread through her veins. She hated him for the way he got under her skin, for the way his dominance sent a thrill through her when it should have terrified her.

---