Page 40 of Twisted Vows

Matteo didn’t answer immediately. He knew what Luca was implying—that Isla wasn’t just another casualty, another pawn in this game. That she had gotten under his skin in a way no oneelse ever had. And Luca was right. Matteo had lost it. Had lost the ability to think rationally where she was concerned. But he wasn’t about to admit that.

"Doesn’t matter what I feel," Matteo muttered. "She’s mine. And no one takes what’s mine."

Luca shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. "Then you better make damn sure you don’t walk into this blind. Leonardo knows exactly what he’s doing. If you’re not careful, you’ll be playing right into his hands."

Matteo’s gaze darkened. "Then I’ll cut them off. One by one. Until there’s nothing left of him but regret."

When they arrived at the villa, the guards barely had time to react before Matteo’s men descended on them. The sound of silenced gunfire cut through the night, bodies dropping before alarms could be raised.

Matteo moved through the shadows, his heart hammering. He would find her. He would end anyone who had touched her.

And when he had her back?

He would make sure no one dared take her from him again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The room was suffocating.

Isla sat in the high-backed chair, her wrists bound tightly in front of her, her pulse steady despite the storm brewing inside her. The old villa her father had brought her to was unfamiliar, yet it reeked of the same power and manipulation she had grown up around. The walls were lined with dark wood panels, the furniture ornate, carefully placed—a home meant to impress, not to comfort.

Her father, Leonardo Marino, stood before her, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit with casual precision. He looked at her the way one might examine a broken chess piece—something that had outlived its usefulness.

"You look tired, my dear," Leonardo mused, his voice smooth, controlled, like a man who had already won. "Perhaps life with DeLuca has taken more from you than you’re willing to admit."

Isla met his gaze, her expression unreadable, even as anger curled in her chest. "Is that why you had me taken? Out of concern for my well-being?"

Leonardo chuckled, the sound devoid of any real amusement. "Concern? No, Isla. I did what was necessary. You were becoming a complication."

She scoffed. "A complication? I am your daughter."

His expression didn’t shift, but there was something colder in his eyes now, something final. "And that was always your greatest flaw. You believed that being my daughter meant you were untouchable. That blood meant something in this world. But you were never meant to last, Isla. You were meant to serve your purpose, then disappear."

A chill slithered down her spine, but she refused to let it show. "Disappear?" Her voice was steady, but the weight of his words pressed against her ribs like a vice. "You mean die."

Leonardo exhaled, as if he were tired of explaining something obvious. "Matteo was supposed to be a tool, Isla. A man I could control, one whose ambition could be shaped to serve me. And for a time, he was. He played the game, followed the rules. But then—" His lips curled into something almost like disgust. "Then he became attached to you. And that, my dear, was a problem."

Isla’s fingers twitched, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"He was never supposed to love you," Leonardo continued, stepping closer, lowering his voice as if imparting a final lesson. "Men like him don’t love. They consume. And once I saw what you had become to him—once I saw that you had become his weakness—I had to destroy him another way. Through you."

The breath stalled in her lungs, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. "You wanted him to kill me."

Leonardo’s smirk was slow, cruel. "I gave him every opportunity. And when he didn’t, when he refused to let go, I knew then that he was no longer someone I could control."

Isla’s nails dug into her palms, rage simmering beneath her skin. "You never wanted peace. You never wanted this marriage to work. You just wanted to break him."

Leonardo shrugged. "A man like Matteo is far more dangerous when he thinks he has something to lose. And I made sure you were the thing he could never keep."

Her chest tightened, but she swallowed back the emotion clawing at her throat.

"You underestimated him," she whispered. "Just like you underestimated me."

For the first time, a flicker of something crossed her father’s face—uncertainty.

Good.

Because this time, she wasn’t playing his game.

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