Chapter 2

Isabella's POV

Less than fourteen hours until the wedding that would shake all of New York.

Chloe worked fast — exactly what I'd expect from a world-class hacker. Two hours later, an encrypted file landed on my private tablet.

I sat in the dim study, the screen's cold blue light washing over my face.

Sophia Russo. Twenty-three. Waitress at some coffee shop in Brooklyn.

Clean as they come — except for one little detail. Starting a year ago, her bank account had been receiving monthly deposits of fifty thousand dollars from an offshore shell company.

The beneficiary of that shell company? Lorenzo Falcone. What a surprise.

I scrolled through the attached photos. The girl had soft blonde hair and timid eyes. She wore a cheap floral dress paired with a diamond necklace worth more than her yearly rent.

That necklace. I'd mentioned it at Sotheby's last month. Just once. Lorenzo bought it the next day, said it was my wedding gift.

Un-fucking-believable.

And then there was the medical report.

Sophia was pregnant. Eight weeks.

I did the math. That lined up perfectly with Lorenzo's trip to Sicily to "handle family business" — while I stayed in New York running interference with the FBI for him.

I took bullets for him. He knocked up some waitress under the Sicilian sun.

"So what's the play?" Chloe's voice crackled through the encrypted line, buzzing with anticipation. "You gonna show up at the church with three hundred of your old man's guys and turn those two into Swiss cheese? Want me to hack the security system, lock the doors, trap 'em inside?"

"No." I closed the tablet. "That's stupid. And it'd drag the Rossis into a war we don't need."

"Then what—"

"The best revenge isn't blowing his brains out, Chloe." I stood and walked to the safe. "It's making him watch while he loses everything."

The line went quiet.

"Oh, I get it." She went serious. "You want him humiliated in front of everyone."

"Not just humiliated." I punched in the code. The safe swung open. "I want him destroyed."

Lorenzo was a textbook narcissist. Wanted to play mob boss and tragic romantic hero at the same time.

He'd choreographed tomorrow's little ambush — the pregnant girlfriend crashing the ceremony — so he could perform his "my hands are tied" act in front of the Five Families. Force the Rossis to swallow the insult for the sake of appearances.

If I actually made it to the vows, whether I screamed or fainted, I'd still be trapped. Married to him. Stuck.

"So I'm not going." I stared at the jewelry Lorenzo had given me over the years, lined up in velvet boxes. "That's the real knife."

"Okay, here's what I need. Move every account the Rossis share with the Falcones. Tomorrow morning. Nine fifty a.m. Transfer everything to the backup accounts in the Caymans. Don't leave them a dime."

"Nine fifty?" Chloe caught on fast. "That's ten minutes before showtime."

"Exactly." I pulled out my mother's silver Beretta and checked the magazine. "I want Lorenzo to walk into that church and get the biggest wedding present of his life."

"Damn." Chloe whistled. "That's cold. I love it. Alright, flight's booked — passport's under your backup identity, Helena. You need me to send someone to pack for you?"

"No." I looked at the rows of jewelry. "I'm not taking any of this."

The sight of it made me sick.

I grabbed only what mattered: core Rossi family documents. And my mother's gun.

"Hey, Bella." Chloe's voice dropped. "Does your father know?"

I paused.

"He will." I said. "Once I'm on the plane."

My father, Marco Rossi. Head of one of New York's Five Families. He'd orchestrated this marriage himself, betting everything on expanding Rossi influence across the entire East Coast.

What he didn't know was that his hand-picked son-in-law was planning to devour the Rossi empire whole.

"You sure about this?" Chloe actually sounded worried. "After you leave, your father's gonna—"

"Gonna what?" I cut her off. "Kill me? Then he should've thought twice before trading his daughter like a poker chip."

I closed the safe.

"Besides, once he sees the gift I'm leaving him, he'll thank me."

"What gift?"

"You'll see."

Eleven p.m. Lorenzo's call came right on schedule.

"Good night, my beautiful bride." His voice was low, smooth, dripping with anticipation. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's the most important day of our lives."

"Finally. Tomorrow Sophia shows up, and this whole political marriage bullshit turns into my ticket to controlling the Rossis. Isabella loves me too much to walk away. And once we're married, that old bastard Marco will fall in line."

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"Of course, Lorenzo." I kept my voice soft. "Tomorrow will definitely be the most unforgettable day of your life."

I hung up.

I pulled out the card meant for my bridal bouquet. Picked up a pen. Wrote one line.