Isabel arrived the next morning.
She swept into the estate as she owned it, her designer heels clicking against the marble floors. I'd heard about her, Eric's ex-fiancée, daughter of a powerful mafia don, the woman everyone expected him to marry.
"Eric, darling," she purred, pressing a kiss to his cheek that lingered too long. "I heard you've been keeping company. The family is concerned."
"The family can be concerned elsewhere," Eric replied coolly. "Isabel, this is Seraphina. Seraphina, Isabel is an old friend."
"Ex-fiancée," Isabel corrected, her smile sharp. "Our families have been allied for three generations. My father was devastated when Eric broke our engagement. But these things happen, don't they? Young men get distracted."
I felt the barb like a physical sting. Ex-fiancée. Of course, Eric had a past. He was thirty-four, powerful, devastatingly handsome. But knowing it intellectually and facing it were different things.
Isabel stayed for dinner, dominating the conversation with talk of family alliances, mafia traditions, and the importance of bloodlines. She mentioned children, how the Moretti line needed heirs, how Caterina must be desperate for grandchildren, how it was such a shame Eric had waited so long.
After she left, I confronted Eric. "You were engaged to her?"
"Briefly. When I was twenty-five. It was arranged by the families, a business merger more than a romance. I ended it when I realized I couldn't marry someone I didn't love."
"And she's just hanging around now?"
"She's trying to get under your skin." He pulled me close. "Don't let her."
But it was working. I saw the way the guards looked at me now, with speculation, with doubt. I heard the whispers that followed me through the halls. Outsider. Liability. The reason the family is divided.
The attempted kidnapping came three nights later.
I was reading in the library when the lights went out. Before I could move, hands grabbed me from behind, rough, smelling of cigarettes and sweat. A cloth pressed over my mouth, and the world went hazy.
I woke tied to a chair in a basement somewhere. Isabel stood before me, arms crossed, her smile triumphant.
"Did you really think he'd choose you?" she asked, circling me like a cat. "Eric is mafia to his bones. His family, tradition, and honor are what define him. Not some pretty face he's been obsessed with since childhood."
"Let me go, and maybe I'll convince him not to kill you," I spat.
She laughed. "Oh, darling. By the time Eric finds you, it'll be too late. The Volkovs are on their way to collect their asset. And I'll be there to console Eric in his grief." She leaned close, her breath hot on my ear. "He'll marry me to unite the families against Volkov. It's the only logical move. And you'll be long gone, passed around Russian gangsters until there's nothing left of you but memories."
I struggled against the ropes, but they held tight. Isabel left, and I was alone with my terror.
Time lost meaning in that basement. Hours? Minutes? I prayed, I cried, I screamed until my throat was raw. I thought of Eric, of his promises, of the life we'd started to build. I thought of never seeing him again, and the pain of that thought was worse than any physical fear.
And then, just as I'd given up hope, the door exploded inward.
Eric stood in the smoke, a gun in each hand, his amber eyes wild with fury. Behind him, the bodies of my captors littered the hallway. He moved through the room like death itself, checking corners, ensuring no threats remained, before finally turning to me.
"Seraphina." He was at my side in seconds, cutting through the ropes, pulling me into his arms. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have killed Isabel when I had the chance."
I clung to him, sobbing. "She said the Volkovs were coming."
"They're not. I dealt with them." He pulled back, cupping my face. "Are you hurt? Did they"
"I'm okay. I'm okay now." I kissed him desperately, needing to feel him, to know this was real.
He carried me out of that nightmare and back to the estate, where Caterina waited with hot tea and gentle hands. But even as I recovered, I knew this wasn't over. Isabel was still out there. The Volkovs, though wounded, would want revenge. And the elders were gathering, demanding answers.
That night, Eric didn't leave my side. He held me through every nightmare, soothed me through every sob. And when morning came, he looked at me with those amber eyes and made a vow.
"I'm going to end this. All of it. Isabel, Volkov, the elders, every threat to you. I'm going to burn them all down."
"Not alone," I whispered. "We do this together."
His kiss was fierce with promise.