Chapter 8 - A Royal Engagement Built on Gunpowder
By dawn, the safehouse was humming with lethal precision.
Luca and Matteo had assembled twenty of the Rossi family’s most loyal veterans—men who had bled under Don Roberto and despised Arturo’s cowardly political maneuvers. Weapons were cleaned, tactical vests strapped on, and encrypted comms synchronized.
In the master suite, Isadora stood before a full-length mirror. She had discarded the emerald gala dress for a tailored charcoal pantsuit crafted from bullet-resistant Kevlar silk, paired with an ivory silk blouse and high-heeled leather boots. Her hair was pulled into a sleek, razor-sharp high ponytail.
A knock sounded, and Gio entered.
He wore a matching charcoal suit, his dark coat tailored to conceal twin shoulder holsters. In his hands, he carried a velvet box.
“You look like a war general,” Gio said, a hint of admiration in his voice.
“I am Lorenzo Vance’s daughter,” she replied, turning to face him. “I don't go to meetings to negotiate. I go to dictate terms.”
Gio opened the velvet box. Inside rested a magnificent, flawless black diamond ring surrounded by a halo of platinum thorns—the historic matriarch ring of the Rossi dynasty.
Gio took her left hand. His touch was warm, steady, and reverent.
“This belonged to my mother,” Gio said, his gaze locking onto hers with unyielding intensity. “My father gave it to her when they unified the southern territories. He told me to only give it to a woman who possessed the courage of a lion and the mind of an empress.”
He slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
Isadora looked down at the black diamond, its facets catching the morning sun. Her breath caught. “Gio... when this is over, the families will expect a real wedding.”
Gio stepped into her space, his hands resting gently on her hips, pulling her close until there was no space between them.
“Do you think this is pretend, Isadora?” he asked, his voice low, husky, and filled with undeniable truth. “The moment you dumped ice on my suit and looked me in the eye without fear, I knew my life would never belong to anyone else. We finish Arturo today. And tomorrow, you become my wife in every sense of the word.”
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A fierce, radiant smile touched Isadora’s lips. She reached up, adjusting his silk tie with steady fingers. “Then let’s make sure we survive today, Don Rossi.”
Gio leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a promise of steel and fire. “They don't stand a chance.”
