Adrian's finger curled around the trigger.
Not shaking.
Not hesitating.
Just calculating.
Isabella didn't blink.
She didn't move.
She didn't beg.
She'd seen that look before — the second right before a man decided if you lived or died.
Her father had worn it.
Adrian wore it better.
Antonio stood frozen, phone still lit in his hand, blood dripping from the man Adrian had just executed.
"You planted a backdoor key to my vault," Adrian said, his voice like crushed ice. "Was it always the plan? Get me to put a ring on your finger so you could rob me blind?"
Isabella looked at the phone. Then at Adrian.
And did something insane.
She stepped forward. Slowly. Until the barrel pressed against her forehead.
"If I were going to rob you," she said, eyes locked with his, "I'd do it after I made you fall in love with me. Not the night I married you."
Adrian stared at her. Long. Hard. The tension in the room so sharp, it could split bone.
Then, he lowered the gun. Just slightly.
"You really expect me to believe you didn't know that file was there?"
"I don't care what you believe."
She grabbed the phone from Antonio's hand, held it up, and with one swift motion — slammed it into the wall.
The screen cracked. Sparks flew. Dead.
Antonio swore.
"I know exactly what this looks like," she said, turning to Adrian. "So go ahead. Kill me. But if you do, you'll never know why your enemies risked war just to plant that file."
Adrian stepped closer. Inches from her now. His voice dropped low.
"I already know why. You're leverage. Insurance. And if that was your father's game, he's more desperate than I thought."
Isabella didn't flinch. "He's not playing a game, Adrian. He's making a sacrifice."
Adrian's eyes narrowed. "Sacrificing who?"
"Me."
Silence.
Antonio looked between them. "She's lying. It's a trick. Romano wouldn't sacrifice his daughter unless—"
"Unless he had no other choice," Isabella interrupted. "Unless the thing he's trying to protect is bigger than me, bigger than peace, bigger than your revenge."
She looked directly at Adrian now. Not as a bride. Not as a pawn. As a warning.
"You're not the only one who lost a brother in this war."
Something shifted behind Adrian's eyes.
But before he could speak — another explosion ripped through the estate. This one louder, deeper. Structural.
The walls shook. Lights went out. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Antonio hit his comm. "They breached the east perimeter. We've got a second team inside."
Adrian turned on his heel. "Secure the armory. Lock it down. Move the bride to the panic room."
"I'm not going into a cage," Isabella snapped.
He spun back, grabbed her by the chin — firm but not cruel.
"No. You're going into a safe so I don't lose my leverage before I finish gutting your father's plans."
She laughed, bitter. "You think keeping me alive makes you smart?"
"I think killing you right now would be easy. But watching you squirm when the truth finally comes out?" Adrian stepped back. "That's going to be so much more satisfying."
Alarms wailed through the mansion.
Adrian loaded a fresh clip, turned to Antonio. "Keep her breathing. And don't trust a damn word she says."
He walked out with blood on his boots and war in his bones.
And for the first time since the wedding began, Isabella felt something terrifying stir in her chest.
Regret.
Because maybe…
Just maybe…
She was starting to believe he'd save her.
Just so he could be the one to break her.