The storm hadn't stopped.It had grown wilder, louder like the heavens themselves were bearing witness to the chaos tearing the Moretti empire apart.
Isabella stood by the tall glass window of Damian's study, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
The faint reflection staring back at her looked nothing like the girl she used to be, the one who still believed her father's world could never touch hers.
Behind her, Damian spoke into his phone, his voice cold and precise.
"Seal the perimeter. No one leaves until I say so."
He hung up. The silence that followed pressed against her chest until she finally turned to face him.
"Three cars," she said softly. "They came for me, didn't they?"
Damian's gaze lifted sharp, unreadable.
"They came for what your father owes them."
Her breath caught. "And what's that?"
"Blood," he said simply. "Yours if necessary."
The words hit like a slap. She took a shaky step back. "You think he'd trade me to save himself?"
His eyes softened just barely. " Isabella doesn't Know."
She shook her head, tears burning her lashes. "You're wrong. My father he might have made mistakes, but he wouldn't "
"Won't,hand you over to them ?" Damian's tone deepened, dangerously calm.
"Then tell me why I found his signature on the transaction that funded Alessandro's shipment last month. The one that put a target on my men,On me."
Her lips parted, words trapped somewhere between disbelief and heartbreak.
"You don't understand he's been trying to pull out of that world for years "
"He's still in it," Damian cut her off. "And because of him, so are you."
Lightning flared across the sky, throwing his face into shadow. For the first time, she saw not the ruthless man everyone feared, but the broken one behind the armor. The man who'd spent his life surviving betrayals like this.
"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered.
"Because," he said quietly, stepping closer, "I need you to choose where your loyalty lies with me or with the man who sold you."
Her heart pounded. "You're asking me to betray my father."
"I'm asking you to save yourself," he said, voice low. "If I can't trust you, Isabella… neither can anyone else.
And this house will burn before I let another traitor live beneath its roof."
His words trembled at the edge of threat but there was something else there too, something unspoken.
She looked up at him, her tears shimmering. "And what about you, Damian? When will you learn that not everyone who loves you is out to destroy you?"
He stilled.
The silence that followed was thick .
Then, slowly, he reached out his hand brushing her cheek, thumb catching her falling tear.
"I stopped believing in love the day I buried my mother," he murmured. "But with you… I keep forgetting why I shouldn't."
Her breath hitched, the air between them charged and trembling. For a heartbeat, the storm outside was nothing compared to the one inside them.
He leaned closer, his breath grazed against her lips. "Don't make me regret trusting you, Bella."
The air between them was thick.
For a fleeting second, their lips almost met a dangerous promise waiting to be broken when a voice from the hall shattered it all.
"Boss!" Luca's voice was sharp, tense. "We found him."
Damian turned, his hand falling away from her like something sacred had just been ripped apart. "Where?"
"In the east cellar." Luca's tone was grim. "It's Antonio Romano. He's asking for you."
Damian's gaze flickered to Isabella torn between fury and something deeper.
She stepped closer, shaking. "Let me come with you."
"No." His answer was instant. "You stay here."
"I'm not hiding while you kill him!"
The storm cracked overhead as if echoing her defiance.
For a long second, he just looked at her then his jaw tightened.
"Then stay behind me. And don't speak unless I tell you to."
Her heart thundered as she followed him out. Down the corridors where portraits of the dead Morettis watched in silence.
Down the marble stairs to the place where secrets never stayed buried.
The east cellar door loomed ahead metal, locked, guarded.
Luca stood by it, rain dripping from his hair, his expression grim.
He looked at Isabella, then at Damian. "You sure you want her here for this?"
Damian's answer was a single word, cold and final.
"Yes."
He pushed the door open.
And inside chained to a chair, his face bloodied but proud was Antonio Romano.
He looked up, met Damian's eyes… then turned to his daughter.
"Isabella," he gasped. "Don't believe anything he tells you."
She froze.
Because for the first time… she didn't know who to believe.
The smell of damp concrete and blood filled the cellar.
The air was heavy, the only sound was the slow drip of water somewhere in the darkness.
Isabella's heart slammed against her ribs as her father lifted his head.
Even battered, Antonio Romano radiated authority, his eyes still sharp, his spine still straight despite the chains biting into his wrists.
"Untie him," Isabella whispered, voice trembling.
Damian didn't move. He stood like stone, his expression unreadable as he stared at the man before him.
The air between the two men crackled with old hatred deep, layered, personal.
Antonio's lips twisted into a bitter smirk. "You've sunk lower than even I imagined, Moretti. Using a girl to settle your scores."
Damian's jaw flexed. "Don't insult her by pretending you care."
"I do care," Antonio spat, his voice hoarse but burning. "She's my blood. My only child."
"And yet you sold her name," Damian hissed. "You put her on the list, Antonio. I have the records."
"Lies," Antonio barked. "Documents can be forged. But blood ,blood doesn't lie."
He turned his gaze to Isabella, softer now, pleading.
"Isabella, listen to me. Whatever he told you, he's twisting it. Your mother…"
He stopped, breathing sharply, the pain in his chest obvious.
"Your mother wanted you far away from this life. From him."
Isabella took a step forward, her voice small, cracking under the weight of it all.
"Then why… Why did I find your name tied to the accounts Damian showed me?"
Antonio's eyes widened. Then he laughed low, bitter, broken.
"Because he made sure you would."
Her gaze darted between them her father chained and bleeding, Damian standing like a god of war.
"Stop it," she whispered. "Both of you. I can't keep doing this."
Luca shifted near the door, unease flickering in his eyes. "Boss," he murmured quietly, "this isn't helping. If the Alessandros know he's here, they'll come for both of you."
Damian ignored him. His eyes never left Antonio.
"Why did you come here, Romano? You knew I'd find you. You knew what I'd do."
Antonio lifted his chin. "Because I wanted to see for myself what you've become."
His voice hardened, the fire flickering again. "And to see if there's still enough of the man your mother raised,not to draw my daughter to your darkness."
Damian's silence was deafening.
Every muscle in his body was locked, his knuckles white where his fists clenched.
Then he spoke, voice low, a razor dragged across glass.
"You don't get to talk about my mother."
Antonio's smirk vanished. "Touch her again, and I'll haunt you from the grave."
That broke something in Damian.
He moved in a blur grabbing Antonio by the collar, dragging him half out of the chair. Chains rattled, blood smeared across Damian's hands.
"Say that again," he snarled. "Say it…"
"Damian!" Isabella's voice cut through like a blade.
She grabbed his arm, nails digging into his skin. "Stop! Please!"
He froze. Her trembling hands, her tear-streaked face pierced through the rage clouding his mind.
For a heartbeat, he couldn't breathe.
Slowly, he released Antonio and stepped back, running a shaking hand through his hair. His chest heaved with restrained fury.
"Take him to the holding room," he ordered hoarsely.
Luca nodded and motioned to the guards, who stepped forward.
But as they pulled Antonio away, her father looked back over his shoulder. His eyes cold, wounded, proud locked on Isabella's.
"Whatever he says," Antonio shouted, "don't forget who you are. You're a Romano. Not his possession."
The words struck her like lightning, splitting her heart in two.
When the guards dragged him out, the echo of chains lingered long after he was gone.
For a long time, neither she nor Damian spoke.
The storm outside roared on, shaking the foundations of the mansion.
Finally, Isabella whispered, "You weren't going to kill him… were you?"
Damian didn't answer. He only looked at her and in that silence, she realized something terrifying.
He didn't know.
He was at war with himself between vengeance and the one woman who made him hesitate.
She stepped closer, her hand trembling as she brushed against his chest. "If you do this, there's no coming back."
His eyes met hers dark, tormented, unguarded for the first time.
"I already crossed that line," he said softly. "The moment I chose you over blood."
Her throat tightened. "Then let me help you find your way back."
He stared at her for a long moment and then, without a word, turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him.
Isabella sank to her knees, the weight of everything crashing over her.
For the first time, she realized that love wasn't saving her.
It was destroying them both.