Page 48 of Twisted Vows

“You’re wrong.”

Leonardo smirked. “Then prove it.”

Isla stared at him, steady, unblinking. "Matteo doesn’t need to love me the way you think he should. He chose me. And I chose him."

She raised the gun, her hands steady, her heart resolved.

And then she pulled the trigger.

Leonardo’s body slumped, the smirk wiped from his face as he collapsed to the floor, unmoving.

A heavy silence filled the room, broken only by the slow exhale of breath from Matteo beside her. He reached for her hand, his grip strong, grounding.

"It’s done," he said.

Isla looked up at him, something inside her finally settling. "Yes. It is."

She had ended the war that had been set in motion before she was even born.

And now, standing beside the man she had fought so hard against, and then for, she realized the truth.

She had been fighting for this all along.

A love worth ruin. A love worth everything.

Chapter Thirty-One

The villa still smoldered in the distance, the scent of fire and death clinging to the night air. Matteo and Isla had left it behind, the ghosts of war lingering in its ruins, but the battle wasn’t over yet. Not until the last threat had been eliminated.

Not until Matteo’s uncle was dead.

The drive back to the DeLuca villa was suffocatingly silent, the weight of what had just happened settling between them like the ashes of the war they had just ignited. Isla sat beside him in the car, her fingers still curled into the fabric of her dress, blood staining the edges. Matteo hadn’t let go of her hand since she pulled the trigger on her father. It wasn’t a gesture of comfort. It was a silent understanding. A tether keeping them together as they stepped into the next chapter of their rule.

As they pulled through the gates of the DeLuca villa, Luca was already waiting for them. He stood at the top of the stone steps, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as Matteo stepped out of the car.

"It’s done?" Luca asked.

Matteo gave a single nod. "Leonardo is dead."

Luca exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking toward Isla as she stepped out beside Matteo. Something in his expression softened just slightly before he turned back to business. "We have him."

Matteo’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need to ask who. Enzo. The last piece of the puzzle. The final betrayal.

"Where?" Matteo asked, his voice steady, emotionless.

Luca motioned for them to follow. "Basement. We’ve kept him alive. Barely."

Matteo didn’t hesitate, and neither did Isla. They moved as one, down the long corridor beneath the villa, where the air grewcolder, the walls lined with the remnants of past enemies who had met their fate in this very place.

Enzo was bound to a chair, his once-proud demeanor reduced to something pitiful. His face was bruised, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes—his eyes still held defiance.

"Matteo," Enzo rasped, a weak smirk pulling at his lips. "You should thank me. I almost did what you didn’t have the stomach to do—take her father out first."

Matteo didn’t react. He simply stepped forward, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, his every movement deliberate. "You betrayed me."

Enzo chuckled, though it was laced with pain. "That’s the game, nephew. You should’ve expected it."

"I did," Matteo said simply. "That’s why this is happening."

---