Chapter 4 - The Dismissal
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Isabella forced a laugh, though it sounded like breaking glass. She reached out, trying to place a delicate hand on Luca’s chest, but he stepped back, leaving her hand hovering in the cold air.
"Darling, please," Isabella stammered, her pale cheeks flushing with a panicked red. "Are you really going to take the word of the hired help over mine? She’s a nobody. She tripped on her own feet and now she’s looking for a payout."
Luca’s dark eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
"My staff does not lie to me," Luca said, his voice deadly calm. "They know the penalty for it. And I know the difference between a slip and an assault."
"I am your future wife!" Isabella shrieked, her composure shattering completely. "My father is Don Romano! You cannot speak to me this way over a peasant who scrubs your floors!"
"This is my house," Luca growled, the mafia boss finally surfacing. "And in my house, I decide who bleeds. Get out."
Isabella blinked, stunned. "What?"
"Get out of my sight," Luca commanded, pointing toward the grand staircase. "Go to your room. Pack your bags. We will discuss the future of our arrangement when I am ready."
"You can't do this to me!" she yelled, tears of humiliation springing to her eyes. "My father will burn this city down!"
"Let him try," Luca replied coldly.
Isabella shot me a look of pure, unadulterated hatred, a silent promise of revenge, before turning on her heel and storming up the marble stairs. The echo of her heels faded into the massive estate.
I sat on the floor, trembling violently, realizing I had just sparked a war between two crime syndicates.
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Luca turned back to me. The coldness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense focus. He knelt back down on the floor.
"Let me see the leg," he murmured.
