The black rose sat on Leonardo's desk like a curse. Its velvety petals were too perfect, too deliberate—Dmitri Volkov's signature calling card. The Russian Bratva boss had declared war without firing a single bullet.
Leonardo stood over it, his fists clenched, his broad shoulders taut with barely contained rage. Marco and the other lieutenants stood silently, knowing better than to speak when their king's fury brewed like this.
Isabella entered quietly, still in her red silk wedding gown from last night. Her hand instinctively covered her belly as she saw the ominous flower. "What does it mean?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Leonardo turned to her, his dark eyes blazing with a fire that could burn the world down. "It means Volkov has just signed his death warrant," he said, voice low and lethal. "He's coming for you. For our child. And I'll rip his empire apart before I let him touch either of you."
He strode across the room, cupping her face with both hands, his touch fierce yet trembling with desperation. "No more games, Isabella," he said hoarsely. "From this moment on, you don't leave my sight. You don't breathe without me knowing. Do you understand?"
Isabella swallowed hard but nodded. She'd seen him angry before, but this… this was something else. Leonardo DeLuca wasn't just a man in love anymore—he was a warlord ready to bathe the streets in blood to protect his queen.
That evening, while the mansion reinforced security, Isabella walked into the nursery they'd just begun to prepare. The sight of the half-assembled crib and tiny baby clothes brought tears to her eyes.
She pressed a hand to her stomach. "We're in the middle of hell, little one," she whispered. "But I swear… I'll keep you safe. Your father will burn the earth if he has to."
Suddenly, a floorboard creaked behind her. She turned sharply.
One of the maids, Sofia—a quiet woman who'd served the mansion for years—stood there, her face pale and nervous. "Mrs. DeLuca," Sofia said softly, bowing her head.
Isabella managed a small smile. "Sofia, you scared me."
Sofia hesitated before stepping closer. "I… needed to warn you," she whispered urgently. "Not everyone here is loyal to the boss. Someone inside is feeding information to Volkov."
Isabella's blood ran cold. "You're saying there's a traitor… here?"
Sofia nodded quickly. "Yes. Someone wants Volkov to succeed. Please, be careful. Don't trust anyone but the boss."
Before Isabella could ask more, heavy footsteps echoed in the hall. Sofia quickly bowed and slipped out, leaving Isabella shaken to her core.
Later that night, Leonardo found Isabella sitting on their bed, lost in thought. He immediately noticed her pale face. "What happened?" he demanded, his instincts flaring.
She told him everything Sofia had said.
Leonardo's expression darkened, his hand curling into a fist. "I knew it," he growled. "That's how Volkov knows too much. There's a snake in my house."
He pulled her into his lap, holding her tightly as though the walls themselves might betray them. "Listen to me," he said fiercely. "No matter what happens, you stay beside me. If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. I won't let them take you."
Isabella gripped his shirt, looking into his stormy eyes. "And what about you? Who protects you?"
Leonardo gave her a dark smile, brushing his lips over hers. "No one needs to protect me, bella. I'm the monster they should be afraid of."
Their kiss deepened, fueled by fear and fierce devotion, a desperate need to hold onto each other while enemies closed in from all sides.
Three days later, the first attack came.
Isabella was in the garden, enjoying rare sunlight when the world erupted in chaos. Gunfire shattered the calm, and masked men stormed the grounds.
"Down!" Marco shouted, shoving her to the ground as bullets ripped through the air. Guards returned fire, but the attackers were fast, organized.
Through the chaos, Isabella saw a tall figure in the distance—a man with icy blond hair and a snake-like grin. Dmitri Volkov himself, standing calmly amidst the bloodshed, as if mocking them.
Before Isabella could process it, strong arms grabbed her from behind. A masked man dragged her toward a black SUV. She screamed, fighting wildly, but his grip was like iron.
Then, out of nowhere, a roar split the air.
"ISABELLA!"
Leonardo emerged from the mansion like a demon unleashed. Bullets flew around him, but none touched him as he moved with deadly precision, taking down attackers one by one.
When he reached her, Leonardo tore the man away from her with raw, feral strength, snapping his neck in one brutal motion. He yanked Isabella into his arms, shielding her body with his own.
"You're safe," he growled, firing over her shoulder and killing two more assailants. "I've got you."
She clung to him, sobbing into his chest as he carried her back toward the mansion.
By the time the dust settled, Volkov was gone, leaving only bodies and blood behind—and a single black rose pinned to the gate.
That night, Leonardo's fury knew no bounds. He paced their room like a caged beast while Isabella sat on the bed, still trembling from the attack.
"I should've killed Volkov years ago," Leonardo snarled. "Now he thinks he can touch what's mine? I'll put his head on a spike."
Isabella rose slowly, crossing to him. She placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the wild storm of his heartbeat. "Leo… what if this doesn't end? What if it's never enough?"
He caught her hand, pressing it to his lips. "Then I'll burn every enemy, every empire," he vowed, his dark eyes locking on hers. "I'll destroy the world itself before I let anyone take you from me."
His words should have terrified her, but instead they sent a strange, dangerous comfort through her heart. She belonged to this man—completely, irrevocably—and together they'd face whatever hell came next.
Leonardo cupped her face, his kiss this time slower, more desperate, as if he needed to taste her to believe she was truly there.
"Sleep, mia regina," he murmured, carrying her to bed. "Tomorrow, we end Volkov."
But neither of them knew that the traitor inside the mansion had already set a plan in motion—one that would shatter their fragile peace and force Isabella to make an unthinkable choice.