Three

The ornate doors of the Lombardi mansion slammed shut behind Isabella, the sound reverberating through the cavernous foyer. The house, always cold and uninviting, seemed even more suffocating tonight. Giovanni Lombardi’s heavy footsteps echoed as he strode ahead, his posture rigid and his fury palpable.

“Upstairs. Now,” he commanded without looking back.

Isabella’s fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to yell, to push back against his domineering presence. But years of obedience whispered caution in her ear. Without a word, she followed him into his study, the space as dark and intimidating as the man himself.

Giovanni closed the door and turned to face her, his piercing eyes boring into her. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp. “Gallivanting around with him? A Rossi?”

“I wasn’t gallivanting,” Isabella snapped, surprising herself with the venom in her voice. “And Alessandro isn’t the enemy you think he is.”

Giovanni slammed his hand against the desk, making her flinch. “He’s a Rossi,” he hissed. “Their blood is poison, and you’ve let it taint you. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The danger you’ve put this family in?”

“I haven’t put us in danger!” she shot back. “I was trying to escape the cage you’ve built around me!”

Her father’s face twisted with anger. “Cage? Everything I’ve done has been for you—to keep you safe, to give you a future!”

“A future I don’t want!” she yelled. “I don’t want to be a pawn in your power games, Father. I want a life of my own.”

Giovanni’s laugh was bitter and devoid of humor. “A life of your own? With him? Do you think the Rossis care about you? You’re just a means to an end for them.”

“Maybe,” Isabella admitted, her voice soft but defiant. “But at least they don’t try to control me like you do.”

Her words hung in the air like a gauntlet thrown. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder.

Finally, Giovanni spoke, his tone icy and calculated. “You think you have a choice in this? You don’t. And I will make sure you understand that.”

Isabella’s defiance faltered as she saw the dark glint in his eyes. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He walked to the bar cart and poured himself a glass of whiskey, the scrape of crystal against metal grating in the tense silence. “The peace between our families is fragile,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “And you’ve jeopardized it with your foolishness. But there’s a way to fix this.”

Her stomach churned as the weight of his words sank in. “What are you saying?”

Giovanni turned to face her, his expression hard as stone. “You’re getting married, Isabella. To Dominic Valenti.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. She staggered back, shaking her head in disbelief. “No. No, you can’t do this.”

“I can,” he said simply, taking a measured sip of his drink. “And I have.”

Her chest tightened, panic clawing at her throat. “You’ve already arranged this? Without even telling me?”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said coldly. “The Valenti alliance is crucial to our survival. You will marry Dominic, and you will put an end to this nonsense with Alessandro.”

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I won’t do it. I won’t marry someone I don’t love.”

Giovanni’s gaze hardened, and he stepped closer, towering over her. “You will do as you’re told. You’ve already shamed this family enough. Don’t make it worse.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You think this is about shame? About alliances? You promised i would have a choice! This is my life, Father. My life.”

“This isn’t about you, Bella. This is about the family, and your life belongs to this family,” he said, his voice devoid of sympathy. “It always has.”

"The family? Or your need to control everything?” she snapped, her voice trembling. “You’re handing me over like a bargaining chip to the Valentis. Do you even care what they’re like?”

He finally looked up, his expression cold. “Dominic Valenti is a powerful man. With this marriage, the bloodshed ends. Do you know how many lives that will save?”

Isabella's chest heaved as she struggled for words. “At the expense of my own life? Does that matter to you?”

Giovanni’s jaw tightened. “See it as your duty to this family.”

The finality of his words left her breathless. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The storm outside raged on, a mirror to the turmoil inside her.

“I won’t forgive you for this,” Isabella said finally, her voice trembling but resolute.

Giovanni’s expression didn’t change. “Forgiveness is irrelevant. You’ll do what’s necessary, or you’ll have nothing.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Isabella alone with the crushing weight of her father’s decree.

She sank into a chair, her head in her hands. The fight drained out of her, replaced by a gnawing despair. Alessandro’s words echoed in her mind: We run. Tonight.

But now, as the walls of her gilded cage closed in around her, she realized it might already be too late.