Page 10 of Beneath the Thorned Crown

I wander further into the maze of paths, allowing my thoughts to drift with the breeze. The rustling of leaves, the distant sounds of nature—it calms me, but only for a few moments. Soon, my mind drifts back to Dominic, back to everything I overheard in the house earlier. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that this art project, once an innocent commission, has now entangled me in a much darker situation than I could have imagined. There are thingshappening in this house—things I don’t fully understand—and Dominic is at the center of it all.

I wish I could go back to a time when my world was smaller, when I was just a young artist with dreams of creating a difference. Now, every brushstroke feels like my art is entangled in a dangerous scheme. My stomach twists with unease as the realization sinks in. There’s no escaping it. This is my reality now.

I pause in front of a massive rosebush, the dark green leaves forming a protective barrier around a crown of deep red flowers. The thorns catch the light, glimmering like tiny daggers. I can almost feel the sharpness in my fingertips as I reach for a bloom, but I stop just short of touching it. The beauty here hides a danger, and I know it all too well.

Suddenly, voices break through the stillness, cutting through my thoughts like a knife. I freeze, instinctively stepping closer to the fountain, hiding behind the stone structure. The voices are low but clear—Dominic’s unmistakable deep timbre, and another voice, harsher, with a note of frustration.

“I don’t know about this, Dominic,” Charles says, his voice tight. “You’re playing with fire. The Delgado family doesn’t take threats lightly.”

The mention of the Delgado family sends a sharp jolt through my chest. It’s a name I’ve heard in whispers, in the hushed tones of people who know far more than I do. Demitri mentioned it a few times but I never paid much attention to his ramblings, which I now regret. I just know that if Dominic is talking about them, they’re dangerous, and from what I’ve gathered, powerful, and Dominic’s connection to them is... unsettling.

Dominic’s voice cuts through, smooth and commanding, a presence that fills the space even when his body isn’t in sight. “I’m not afraid of them,” he replies, his tone dismissive. “We’ve been planning this for years. We strike now, or we risk everything. This shipment—it’s more than just a threat. It’s a statement.”

“Are you sure this is the right move? Considering we don’t even know when and where their shipment is coming,” Charles presses, his voice rising with unease. “If we go through with this, there’s no turning back. You’ll have blood on your hands! The Delgado family won’t forget.”

“This isn’t just about business, Charles. It never was. Everything they own belongs to me – their estate, property, houses. Hell, even their servants were supposed to be mine. Father didn’t die for nothing; he fought until his last breath and I won’t rest until they feel the same way I do. This is personal.”

“Is it because of what happened the other day at Inferno?”

“Partially,” Dominic replies, his eyes blazing with fire, “He’s gotten too cocky and we don’t have anything to lose. Samuel, on the other hand, he’ll lose everything. I won’t rest until I take back what’s mine.”

The words are followed by contemplation. I stand still, barely daring to breathe, caught between the need to escape and the desire to understand more. What does Dominic mean by personal? What could he possibly have to do with the Delgado family that runs so deep, so... violent?

Charles continues, his voice quieter now. “And Isabella? What role does she play in all of this?”

I freeze. My heart skips a beat, thudding painfully in my chest. My name. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but I know one thing for sure—whatever it is, it involves me. The realization stabs through me like a jagged knife, and I instinctively take a step back, hiding deeper behind the stone fountain. I strain to hear, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“She’s the key,” Dominic’s voice rumbles, deep and dangerous. “She has the talent I need. And I’m not going to let anything—or anyone—stand in my way.”

I can feel my breath catch in my throat as the words sink in. The key? What does that mean? What does he want from me? He doesn’t explain more than this. It seems like the only person Dominic truly trusts is himself.

My mind races, but I dare not linger any longer. The heaviness of the conversation presses down on me, leaving me with more questions than answers. I need to get out of here. I need to think. But as I step back, intending to leave the area, a familiar voice calls out to me, and my heart lurches in my chest.

“Isabella.”

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking up as the sound of my name—soft, commanding—drifts towards me. His voice. The one that makes everything inside me tighten with anticipation. Dominic.

I turn slowly, my feet frozen in place. There he is, standing just a few feet away, his tall frame towering over me. The fading light of the evening seems to illuminate him, casting shadows across his sharp features. His dark eyes fixate on me, intense, piercing.

“Out here alone?” His voice is smooth, almost mocking. It’s hard to put into words, but it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. There’s a sharpness to him now, a dangerous and unpredictable edge.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words get caught in my throat. I’m suddenly too aware of the space between us, too aware of the way he’s looking at me, like he’s sizing me up, like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. My heart races as I try to steady my breath.

“I... just needed some air,” I say, my voice coming out more breathless than I intended. It sounds weak, even to my own ears. But the truth is, I don’t want to be out here. Not with him. Not alone.

“Air?” His voice drops lower, almost dangerous. “You’ve been wandering around, Isabella. That’s not smart. You have no idea what kind of world you’ve walked into.”

I blink, my pulse skipping a beat. The way he says my name, it feels like a warning. Like a promise that if I take one more step, if I move any closer, I might lose control of everything. He’s not just a man standing in front of me. He’s the embodiment of the storm that’s been brewing in my life since the moment I walked into this house.

“Maybe I wouldn’t feel so... trapped if you didn’t have eyes on me all the time,” I snap, my voice trembling with unspoken frustration. “Maybe I wouldn’t wander if I didn’t feel like I was being watched every second.”

The words are out before I can stop them. I can see the glimpse of an emotion in his eyes, a hint of surprise.

“You sent someone yesterday. Again. And honestly whoever it was, wasn’t even that good at sneaking around because I saw them on my way back from the kitchen,” I glare at him, “So, stop it! This isn’t gonna work if your men keep sniffing around.”

“You think I sent someone yesterday?” His voice is sharper now, a dangerous edge creeping into his words.

I’m taken aback by the question. “Last night,” I say quietly, maybe I accused him too quickly. “I saw someone in my room. They went through my things. It looked like a mess.”

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