The morning after the explosion feels unreal.
The sun rises gently over the estate as if nothing happened. Birds still gather in the gardens. The fountains still run. Staff move through the halls quietly, pretending the night did not shake the walls.
But Isabella did not sleep again.
She stands by her bedroom window, arms folded, watching security sweep the outer grounds. Burn marks stain the gate area. The wrecked car is already gone.
Clean.
Efficient.
Controlled.
A knock sounds.
"Come in," she says.
Luca enters, already dressed. Dark suit. Composed expression. As if he did not kill someone hours ago.
"You should eat," he says.
"I'm not hungry."
"You need strength."
She turns to face him. "I need answers."
He studies her carefully.
"You'll get them."
"When?"
"Were you afraid last night?" she asks.
"Yes."
The quick answer surprises her.
"For yourself?"
"For you."
Her throat tightens.
"You barely know me."
"I know enough."
"What do you know?"
"That you don't scare easily."
She almost smiles.
"That you don't bend quickly."
True.
"And that you are not as fragile as people assume."
She leans back slightly.
"And yet you still treat me like glass."
He exhales slowly.
"Because strong things break too."
Their eyes hold.
The space feels smaller now.
Warmer.
"Why did you really agree to this marriage?" she asks softly.
He doesn't look away.
"Because chaos is coming."
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
She waits.
Finally, he says, "Because if I didn't tie our families together, someone else would tear them apart."
Her heartbeat slows.
"And you think marriage stops that?"
"It changes the battlefield."
She studies him in the dim light.
He is not cruel.
He is not gentle either.
He is steady.
And steady can be dangerous.
"Then maybe," she says quietly, "you should stop fighting alone."
Something shifts in his expression.
Not surrender.
But something close.
He stands slowly.
Walk around the desk.
Stops in front of her.
Close enough that she feels his presence fully now.
"I don't fight alone," he says softly.
"Then let me in."
A long silence.
Then
"Okay."
It is barely a whisper.
But it is real.
For the first time since the wedding, they are not standing on opposite si
des.
They are standing side by side.
Even if the ground beneath them is still burning.
---
Outside, beyond the estate walls, a black car idles in the dark.
A man inside watches the lit office window.
He speaks quietly into his phone.
"They're closer than expected."
A pause.
"Yes," he says. "We move sooner."
The line clicks dead.
War is not coming.
It has already begun.