Page 33 of Twisted Vows

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Isla.

She stepped inside, her arms crossed, her defiance wrapped around her like armor. But there was something else beneaththe surface, something he had been seeing more and more in her lately—concern. And that, more than anything, caught his attention.

“Something’s wrong,” she said, not waiting for permission to speak.

Matteo exhaled slowly. “Tell me.”

She hesitated, just for a second, before shaking her head. “I don’t know exactly. But your men—some of them are different now. The way they look at you, the way they speak when they think no one’s listening. I hear things, Matteo. Half-finished sentences. Conversations that stop too abruptly.”

His jaw tightened. “You think they’ve turned on me?”

“I think they’re waiting,” she corrected. “Waiting to see if they should.”

Matteo studied her. He had always known Isla was intelligent, but this—this was more. She had been raised in this world, she understood its nuances. And now, she was reading the battlefield just as he was.

“They could be bought,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “And I think your uncle is the one doing the buying.”

Matteo leaned back, his fingers tapping against the desk. He had already suspected as much. But hearing it from Isla only confirmed what he feared.

“What did you hear?” he asked.

She took a slow breath. “Enzo’s name. Spoken by men who serve you.”

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Matteo’s face, but there was no humor in it. “Then they’ve already chosen their side.”

“Or they’re counting on you being too distracted to stop them.”

Matteo’s smile faded. “You think I’m distracted?”

Isla’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “I think you have too much to lose now. And they know it.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and thick. Matteo knew she was right. Before, he had been untouchable. A man with nothing to hold over him. But now, he had Isla.

A knock at the study door interrupted them. One of his most trusted men entered, his face grim. “I’m sorry for the interruption, boss. We intercepted a message, boss. Your uncle has been making moves to overthrow you. Some of our men have been approached.”

Matteo’s fingers curled into a fist. “By whom?”

The man hesitated. “By Enzo himself. He’s buying loyalty.”

Matteo stood, his body taut with restrained fury. He had allowed Enzo to live within his empire, to exist under the illusion of brotherhood and respect. That mercy had been a mistake.

Isla stepped forward, her voice steady. “Then it’s worse than you thought.”

Matteo turned to her, his expression unreadable. “There are very few people I can trust right now.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Then start with me.”

A silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of unspoken truths. Matteo had never truly trusted anyone—trust was a weakness, a vulnerability he had never afforded himself.

But as he looked at Isla, standing there with steel in her spine and fire in her eyes, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was the only person who hadn’t already betrayed him.

Matteo exhaled slowly, nodding once. “Fine. Then let’s end this.”

Because war was coming.

And Matteo DeLuca wasn’t planning to lose.

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