Enzo POV
I'm going to kill someone tonight.
I sit in the front pew and watch Arthur kiss his new wife like she's a stranger. Quick. Cold. Over before it starts. Around me, two hundred people pretend they don't notice how terrible this is.
But I notice everything about Isabella Romano.
The way her hands shake when Arthur puts the ring on. The way she looked at me three times during the ceremony—three times when she should have been looking at her husband.
Three years. I've watched this girl for three years, telling myself I was protecting my business partner's daughter.
Lies. All lies.
I wanted her. Want her. Will always want her.
And today, I trapped her.
The ceremony ends. Arthur walks Isabella down the aisle like he's carrying groceries. No warmth. Exactly as I told him to act. My son is a good actor. He has to be, living the life I forced on him.
I stand, and my bodyguard Marco appears. "Boss, your speech is in twenty minutes."
"I need five minutes alone."
Marco disappears. Smart man. He knows when I'm dangerous.
I am always dangerous. But today, I'm nuclear.
The church empties. I should go to the reception. Instead, I stay here, hands gripping the pew so hard the wood creaks.
Isabella is married to my son.
Isabella is legally part of my family.
Isabella is exactly where I need her to be.
But God, it hurts more than I thought it would.
My phone buzzes. A message from my security chief: "Russo family soldiers spotted near the Romano house. Victor Romano in danger. May be connected to his debts."
Ice floods my veins.
Victor owes money to the Russo family. The kind of debt that gets paid in blood. He thought marrying Isabella to my family would protect him.
He was wrong.
And if the Russos can't get to Victor, they'll go after Isabella.
I'm running before I finish the thought. Into my car. Toward the mansion.
Three years of watching from a distance. Three years of planning this wedding to keep her close.
And I might lose her before I even tell her the truth.
We arrive at the mansion. Music pours from the ballroom. I walk through the crowd like a shark through water. People step aside. They always do.
I find Isabella standing alone near the champagne fountain. Arthur is nowhere in sight. She looks lost. Her makeup is smudged. She's holding a glass but not drinking.
She looks like a little girl playing dress-up.
Except she's not a little girl. She's twenty-three. A woman who doesn't know her own power yet.
I'm going to teach her. But first, I need to keep her alive.
"Isabella." I say her name quietly, but she jumps.
She turns. Our eyes meet. That electric shock hits me like always. Like touching a live wire.
"Mr. Valentino. I mean—Enzo. Should I call you Dad?"
The word "Dad" from her lips makes me want to put my fist through a wall.
"Enzo is fine." I move closer. "You're alone."
"Arthur had business calls." She tries to smile. It breaks my heart.
"Dance with me."
Her eyes go wide. "What? No, that's weird. You're my father-in-law."
"And your father is too drunk to dance with you. Someone should." I hold out my hand. "Unless you want everyone whispering about you all night."
Pride flashes in her eyes. She takes my hand.
Touching her is a mistake.
Electricity shoots up my arm. Hot. Burning. Alive.
I lead her to the dance floor. The band plays something slow. I put my hand on her waist and pull her close.
It feels more right than anything in my entire life.
"You're a good dancer," she says quietly, staring at my shoulder.
"I've had practice."
"With your wife?"
The mention of Lucia stabs me. "Yes."
"I'm sorry she died."
"So am I."
We move in silence. I can feel every inch of her body near mine. The curve of her waist. The smell of roses. The way she fits against me like she was made for this.
She was made for me.
"Why are you really dancing with me?" Isabella asks suddenly. Tears shine in her eyes. "Everyone's staring."
"I don't care what people think."
"Well, I do. This is already the worst day of my life."
"Isabella, listen to me." I lean closer. "Your father is in trouble. The kind that gets people killed."
She goes rigid. "What?"
"I can't explain here. But tonight, after this reception, you and I need to talk. Things that will change everything."
"You're scaring me."
"Good. Fear keeps you alive."
The song ends. I should let her go. But my hand stays on her waist. My fingers tighten.
"Enzo." She says my name like a warning. "Please."
"Soon," I whisper. "Soon you'll understand why I did this."
I release her. Step back.
Isabella stares at me with wide, confused eyes.
Then someone screams.
Not a playful scream. A real scream. Blood and death.
The music cuts off.
Another scream from the garden.
I'm running. My gun already in my hand—I always carry a gun.
I burst through the garden doors.
Arthur is on his knees. His white shirt is covered in blood.
Marco is lying on the ground. Not moving. So much blood.
And standing over them both, holding a gun, is Victor Romano.
Isabella's father.
"I'm sorry," Victor slurs, crying. "They said they'd kill Isabella if I didn't kill Arthur. They said this was the only way."
He points the gun at Arthur's head.
Isabella comes running past me, screaming, "Daddy, no!"
Everything happens in slow motion.
Victor turns toward Isabella's voice. The gun turns with him.
I have one second to choose.
I raise my gun.
And I shoot Isabella's father in the chest.
Victor drops. Blood blooms across his shirt. He falls into the rose bushes.
Isabella screams. She's running toward him.
I grab her. Pull her back. She fights me, hitting and scratching and screaming.
"Let me go! You killed him! You killed my father!"
"He was going to shoot you." My voice is dead calm. "He would have killed you, Isabella."
"I don't care! I don't care!" She's sobbing now. Breaking apart in my arms.
Behind us, security floods in. Someone calls for an ambulance. Arthur is being helped up—the blood isn't his, it's Marco's.
My son is screaming Marco's name.
Chaos. Complete chaos.
Isabella goes limp in my arms. Not fainted. Just surrendering to the horror.
I hold her while her world ends.
My security chief approaches and whispers: "Boss, Victor Romano isn't dead. But Marco is."
I close my eyes.
Arthur's lover is dead.
Isabella's father tried to kill my son.
And I'm holding the one person I can't afford to love.
Isabella lifts her head. Looks at me with eyes full of hate and horror.
"This is your fault," she whispers. "All of this. You did this."
She's right.
I did do this.
And now I have to live with it.