(Isla's POV)
The door cracked open.
A gloved hand slipped through first. My chest tightened. The masked man leaned in, eyes cold, ready to grab me.
I backed away so fast I hit the wall. "Please don't"
Before he could step inside, something slammed into him from behind.
Hard. The man stumbled forward, falling onto the floor at my feet.
Behind him
Dante.
His face twisted in pain, his breathing sharp. Blood seeped through his wedding suit. His hair was a mess, his hands shaking, but his eyes were locked on me with fierce focus.
"Islamove!" he shouted.
I dropped to the floor as Dante lunged into the room, grabbing the masked man by the collar and dragging him back out. The hallway echoed with loud grunts and punches.
Another slam.
A gasp.
A heavy thud.
Silence.
My heart hammered against my ribs. The room felt too small, too hot, too dangerous.
Then Dante reappeared at the doorway, chest rising and falling fast. Blood stained his shoulder and side, spreading like a dark flower.
"Is he?"
"Unconscious," Dante said. "We don't have long before more come."
He stepped toward me, wincing. I rushed forward.
"You're bleeding!"
"I've been worse," he said through clenched teeth.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?!"
He almost smiled. "No. But it means I can walk. And I can get you out."
His voice was tired, cracked, but strong. Strong enough to make me believe him.
He grabbed my hand. "Come on."
We ran through the secret hallway, shadows swallowing us. The floor vibrated from faraway explosions/gunshots in the ballroom. Screams echoed above us. The whole mansion felt like it was shaking.
"Why are they doing this?" I yelled breathlessly.
"Because they want you," Dante said. "And they're willing to tear the mansion apart to get you."
"But why me?" I cried. "Why would someone send men to kidnap me?"
"It's not someone," Dante said. "It's Viktor Kozlov. He hates my family… and yours."
"My family? I barely even know who they are!"
"That's exactly why you're at risk."
His hand squeezed mine tighter.
We reached a small metal door. Dante opened it fast and pulled me inside a cold, dark room filled with shelves and bottles.
The wine cellar.
The air was damp and quiet. Too quiet. The chaos above felt far away here.
Dante shut the door, locking it from the inside. Then he dropped to the floor, leaning against a crate.
His face twisted in pain.
I knelt beside him. "Dante, you're hurt."
"I just need a second," he whispered.
I pressed my hand against his bleeding shoulder. He winced but didn't push me away.
"Why did you come for me?" I whispered. "Why risk your life?"
He lifted his eyes slowly.
"I couldn't leave you up there," he said. "Not alone. Not with those men looking for you."
"But Luciano"
"He's fighting upstairs. He sent two guards to look for you. But they went the wrong way."
He swallowed, jaw tight.
"I didn't."
My chest tightened. "You shouldn't have come alone."
"You deserve someone who comes," he said softly.
His voice hit something inside me, something fragile, trembling.
"And…" He hesitated. "And I couldn't stop thinking about you."
I froze.
"What?"
He closed his eyes like he hated himself for saying it. "I know it's wrong. I know it's messy. I know you're Gianna's sister, and today is my wedding day, and everything about this is insane."
His hand reached for mine.
"But the second I saw you, everything inside me… shifted."
My breath caught.
"I tried to ignore it," he said, voice low. "I tried to pretend it didn't mean anything. But it does."
My heart struggled to beat normally. "Dante… this is impossible."
"I know."
He leaned his head back, eyes burning.
"But it's real."
I swallowed hard. My feelings were tangled; fear, panic, guilt, something warm and dangerous under it all.
"This isn't the time," I whispered.
"I know," he said again. "But I needed you to know the truth. If something happens to me"
"Don't say that."
He didn't finish. Instead, he squeezed my hand again.
A quiet moment passed. A small bubble in a night full of terror.
Then
Something buzzed.
A sharp, vibrating sound from the corner of the cellar.
Dante and I froze.
My heart jumped into my throat. "What was that?"
"I don't know." Dante forced himself up, gritting his teeth. He limped toward a dusty crate in the corner.
Another buzz.
It wasn't either of our phones. Ours were in the room upstairs. We had run without grabbing anything.
Dante reached behind the crate and pulled something out.
A black phone.
Not his.
Not mine.
His hand trembled as he lifted it.
"It's unlocked," he said. "Someone left it here."
My stomach twisted. "Why?"
He didn't answer.
The phone buzzed again.
A new notification lit up the screen.
Dante's eyes scanned it.
Then his face collapsed.
The blood drained from his cheeks. His lips parted in shock. His hand shook so badly the phone almost fell.
"Dante?" I whispered. "What is it?"
He didn't move.
"Dante… tell me."
Slowly, he turned the phone toward me.
But he kept staring at it like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"It's a video," he said quietly. "A video of Gianna."
My heart stopped. "What?"
His voice cracked, full of fear and disbelief,
"She's been taken."