Page 32 of Twisted Vows

Luca entered a few moments later, pausing when he saw the look on Matteo’s face. He let out a slow breath. “She knows, doesn’t she?”

Matteo didn’t answer right away. He reached for the whiskey on his desk, pouring himself a drink, before meeting Luca’s gaze. “Yeah.”

Luca sank into one of the chairs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Shit.”

“She thinks I was part of it,” Matteo said quietly. “That I would’ve let her die.”

Luca studied him carefully, his gaze sharp and searching. “And isn’t that exactly what you planned? At first?”

Matteo’s fingers tightened around the glass, the tension rolling off him in waves. He was silent for a long moment, his knuckles white as he gripped the drink. Finally, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter what I planned then.”

“But it does. Because whatever you planned then and whatever you feel now—those are two different things, aren’t they?”

Matteo didn’t answer right away. He stared at the whiskey in his hand, watching the amber liquid swirl as if the answer laysomewhere in its depths. “She was supposed to be a means to an end,” he admitted, voice rough. “A way to control the Marino family. A way to neutralize a threat before it became one.”

Luca’s brow lifted. “And now?”

Matteo looked up, his jaw tight. “Now, she’s the only thing I can’t control.”

Luca let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Matteo drained his glass in one slow swallow before setting it down with a heavy thud. “I’m going to make her stay.”

Luca exhaled through his nose, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Matteo’s eyes darkened, his voice quiet but certain. “I’m going to make her realize she doesn’t want to leave.”

Luca smirked slightly, though there was something almost sympathetic in his expression. “You always did love a challenge.”

Matteo said nothing. Because for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he had already lost. And losing Isla?

That was a war he wasn’t ready to concede.

Luca leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, what are you going to do now?”

Matteo drained his glass in one slow swallow before setting it down with a heavy thud. “I’m going to make her stay.”

Luca sighed, but he didn’t argue. He simply sat back and smirked slightly. “You always did love a challenge.”

Matteo said nothing. Because for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he had already lost. And losing Isla?

That was a war he wasn’t ready to concede.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The tension in the DeLuca villa had shifted. It wasn’t just the lingering fallout from the cartel attack or the quiet war between Isla and Matteo. It was something else—something unseen, but lurking just beneath the surface. And Matteo felt it.

The villa had always been a fortress, a place where loyalty was demanded, where betrayals were met with swift and brutal consequences. But something had changed. Conversations stopped when he entered a room. Some of his men, ones he had trusted for years, no longer met his gaze the same way. The attack on the villa had been too precise, too well-coordinated. Someone had fed the enemy information.

And now, Matteo knew who.

Enzo DeLuca.

His uncle. His blood.

The realization had struck like a blade to the gut, a slow, twisting pain that refused to relent. Enzo had always been ambitious, always a step too close to the edge of defiance. But Matteo had thought he had kept him in check. He had been wrong.

Seated at his desk, Matteo ran a hand down his face, exhaustion battling with fury. If Enzo had been working against him, it meant one thing—war was coming. Not just from the outside, but from within his own family. And there was no war more dangerous than one fought with enemies who knew your weaknesses.

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