Shattered Vows

Into the Den

Isa sat at the edge of the bed, staring out the window as the morning sun cast golden streaks across the room.

Sleep had been elusive, her mind replaying the tense encounter with Luca over and over.

The anger that had surged in her chest last night hadn’t faded. If anything, it had only grown stronger.

She knew she was walking a dangerous line. Luca wasn’t a man to be defied, and her defiance had been reckless.

But for the first time in years, Isa had felt a spark of control, a glimmer of strength she hadn’t known she still possessed.

A soft knock at the door broke through her thoughts. Isa stiffened, her pulse quickening. Was it Luca? Would he confront her about her outburst?

The door creaked open, revealing Sofia, who carried a tray of breakfast and set it down on the small table near the window.

"Good morning," she said, her tone polite but distant, as always.

Isa offered a small nod, unable to muster a greeting.

Sofia seemed to sense the tension in the air, her eyes lingering on Isa for a moment before she spoke again.

"Mr. De Santis wants to see you in his office. After breakfast."

Isa’s heart sank at the words. She had known this moment was coming, but hearing it aloud made it real.

Last night had consequences, and now she was about to face them.

"Thank you," Isa whispered, her throat tight.

Sofia left without another word, and Isa stared down at the tray of food—perfectly arranged, elegant, as though the world outside her window wasn’t crashing down around her.

The thought of eating made her stomach turn, but she forced herself to take a few bites. She would need her strength.

After changing into a simple black dress, Isa stood in front of the mirror.

Her reflection stared back at her—pale, hollow-eyed, with tension etched into every line of her face.

But there was something else in her gaze. Determination.

With a deep breath, Isa left the room and made her way down the winding halls of the mansion.

Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of her impending confrontation with Luca pressing down on her like an invisible force.

The mansion was as cold and silent as ever, its opulence doing little to ease the knot of anxiety growing in her chest.

When she reached the large wooden doors of Luca’s office, Isa hesitated for a moment.

She could hear the low murmur of voices inside—Luca and someone else.

Before she could second-guess herself, the door swung open, revealing Enzo standing in the doorway.

His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes flickered with something akin to understanding as he stepped aside to let her in.

"Luca is waiting for you," he said quietly.

Isa nodded and stepped into the office, her heart pounding.

Luca was seated behind his massive desk, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto her as she entered.

He was dressed in a dark suit, his appearance as immaculate and commanding as always.

But there was an edge to his demeanor, a tension in the air that sent a shiver down Isa’s spine.

Enzo closed the door behind her, leaving them alone.

"Sit," Luca ordered, his voice low but firm.

Isa obeyed, sitting in the same chair she had occupied the night before.

The memory of their confrontation still hung heavy between them, and Isa braced herself for what was to come.

Luca leaned back in his chair, his expression cold, but his eyes burned with intensity.

For a moment, he simply studied her, as though trying to decide how best to handle her defiance.

"You’re not like other women, Isabella," he finally said, his tone measured, calculating.

"Most would have been smart enough to keep their heads down, to follow the rules without question. But not you."

Isa’s hands clenched in her lap, but she refused to look away from him.

She had come this far—she wasn’t going to back down now. "I’m not here by choice, Luca. You can’t expect me to just accept this."

Luca’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "You think you have a choice in this? You don’t. You never did."

His words hit her like a blow, but Isa forced herself to stay calm. "I don’t want to fight you," she said, her voice steady. "But I’m not going to be your prisoner, either."

Luca’s expression darkened, his amusement fading.

He stood up, moving around the desk with slow, deliberate steps until he stood directly in front of her.

Isa felt his presence like a weight pressing down on her, but she held her ground.

"You don’t seem to understand your position," Luca said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You belong to me now.

Your life is in my hands. And I can make that life as easy or as difficult as I choose."

Isa’s breath caught in her throat, but she refused to let fear control her.

"Then make it difficult," she said softly, meeting his gaze with more courage than she felt. "I’ve survived worse."

For a moment, the tension in the room was suffocating.

Luca stared down at her, his expression unreadable, and Isa wondered if she had pushed him too far.

But then, something shifted in his eyes—a flicker of something deeper, something she couldn’t quite place.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin.

"Be careful, Isabella," Luca whispered, his voice soft but laced with warning. "Defiance has a price."

Isa’s heart raced, but she held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "So does cruelty," she whispered back.

Luca’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Isa thought he might strike her. But instead, he straightened up, his expression hardening once more.

"You’ll learn," he said, his tone cold and final. "One way or another."

Without another word, Luca turned and walked back to his desk, dismissing her with the flick of his hand.

Isa stood, her legs trembling as she left the office, her heart still pounding in her chest.

She had stood up to him, but at what cost? The lines had been drawn, and now she was more entangled in Luca’s world than ever.

As she made her way back to her room, Isa couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them.

The stakes had risen, and her defiance had set something in motion that she wasn’t sure she could stop.

But one thing was clear—this was only the beginning.