The world narrowed to the image on the screen.
My sister's face was pale, streaked with tears she was trying and failing to hide. Her hands were bound behind the chair, her shoulders rigid with fear. A bruise bloomed darkly along her cheekbone.
I couldn't breathe.
"Elena," Luca said quietly, his hand closing around mine. "Look at me."
I didn't.
Isabella Romano's voice purred through the speakers. "Tick-tock. I don't like waiting."
"I'm coming," I said before Luca could stop me.
His grip tightened. "No. This is a trap."
"Everything is a trap," I replied hoarsely. "But she's my sister."
"And you're my wife," he shot back. "And you're carrying my child."
I finally looked at him then. Really looked.
Fear lived in his eyes not for himself, but for me.
"Trust me," I said. "The same way I trusted you when I stepped into your world."
Silence stretched between us.
Then Luca nodded once, sharply. "You won't go alone."
"She said alone."
"She doesn't get to make the rules," he replied. "Not anymore."
The location arrived seconds later an abandoned theater on the edge of the city. Old. Forgotten. Perfect for secrets and bloodshed.
We moved fast.
The drive was silent, broken only by the hum of the engine and the pounding of my heart. I replayed every memory of my sister in my mind her laughter, her stubbornness, the way she always protected me when we were younger.
Hold on, I begged silently. I'm coming.
The theater loomed like a carcass when we arrived, its marquee dark, paint peeling. Luca's men fanned out, securing the perimeter. Luca himself stopped me before I could step inside.
"No matter what happens," he said lowly, "you don't react. You don't rush. You don't let her see fear."
I swallowed. "And if she hurts my sister?"
Luca's expression went cold. "Then she dies."
The doors creaked open.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and decay. The stage lights flickered on suddenly, blinding us.
They were waiting.
Isabella Romano stood center stage, elegant in a crimson dress, her dark hair perfectly styled. She looked nothing like a criminal and everything like a queen.
My sister sat bound beside her.
"Ah," Isabella said with a slow smile. "The famous contract bride."
Her gaze slid to my stomach. "And the heir."
Rage burned through me but I remembered Luca's words.
"No games," I said evenly. "Let her go."
Isabella laughed softly. "Straight to business. I like that."
She circled my sister lazily. "Do you know what your mother died for, Elena?"
My chest tightened. "You don't get to say her name."
"Oh, but I do," Isabella replied smoothly. "She betrayed my father. She chose your future over ours."
"She chose what was right," I said.
Isabella stopped in front of me. "There is no right. Only power."
She leaned closer. "And power always collects its debt."
My sister whimpered.
I stepped forward instinctively.
A gun cocked behind me.
Luca's men tensed but Luca himself remained still.
"Easy," Isabella said. "One step closer, and she bleeds."
I forced myself to stop.
"What do you want?" I asked.
Isabella smiled. "You."
The word echoed.
"Publicly," she continued. "You will denounce Luca De Santis. Claim coercion. Claim abuse. You will fracture his alliances from the inside."
"And if I refuse?"
Isabella shrugged. "Then your sister dies tonight. And your child becomes the next bargaining chip."
The threat was surgical. Precise.
I felt Luca's presence behind me solid, furious, restrained.
This was the moment.
The one that would define me.
I took a breath.
Then another.
"No," I said.
Isabella blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I said no," I repeated, my voice steady. "You misunderstand something."
I stepped fully into the light.
"I was bought once," I continued. "I won't be owned again."
Isabella's smile vanished. "You're choosing death."
"No," I said quietly. "I'm choosing truth."
I turned slightly. "Luca."
He moved instantly.
The lights cut out.
Gunfire erupted.
Chaos swallowed the theater.
I dropped to the floor as Luca's men surged forward. Isabella screamed orders. My sister cried out.
I crawled toward the stage, heart hammering.
"Get her out!" Luca shouted.
A guard reached my sister, cutting her restraints.
Isabella fired wildly, fury etched across her face.
"This isn't over!" she screamed at me.
Luca tackled her.
The sound of a single gunshot echoed.
Silence fell.
When the lights came back on, Isabella Romano lay motionless on the stage.
Luca stood over her, chest heaving.
My sister collapsed into my arms, sobbing. "I thought I was going to die."
"You're safe," I whispered fiercely. "I've got you."
Sirens wailed in the distance.
We left before they arrived.
Later, in the quiet of the car, Luca reached for my hand.
"You chose war," he said softly.
I looked at him, exhausted but unbroken.
"No," I replied. "I chose my family."
He kissed my knuckles gently.
"And that," he said, "is why you'll survive this world."
As the city lights blurred past, I rested my hand over my stomach.
The contract had brought me here.
But the future?
The future was mine to claim.