(Isla's POV)
The scream was still ringing in my ears.
"No! Not yet! It's too soon!"
Gianna's voice cut through the darkness like a knife. People were bumping into each other, chairs scraping, glasses falling. Someone grabbed my arm and I jerked away, terrified it wasn't Dante or Luciano.
My breath felt stuck in my chest. I couldn't see anything. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
Then;
Just as suddenly as it all began.
The lights flashed back on.
Everyone froze.
Music returned like nothing had happened. Guests blinked around, confused, but within seconds the wedding staff were moving fast, guiding people back to their seats, fixing toppled flowers, forcing smiles.
"Please remain calm," a security guard said. "Just a minor power issue."
Minor issue?
Gianna's scream was not minor.
My shaking hands were not minor.
Luciano's gun in his jacket was DEFINITELY not minor.
I looked around for my sister, but she was back at the altar with Dante, her face smooth again, too smooth. Like she had wiped away her fear with makeup.
Why did she scream like fire was coming?
"Isla," someone whispered behind me.
I turned.
Luciano stood in the far corner, half-hidden behind guests. His hand still rested inside his jacket. His eyes were scanning the crowd like a hunter searching for danger.
His stare shifted to me.
Sharp. Heavy.
But he didn't come closer.
Something was wrong. I felt it in my bones.
The priest cleared his throat. "Shall we continue?"
Everyone nodded. The guests clapped politely. And somehow, the wedding ceremony started again like nothing had happened.
I walked back to the piano because that's where they needed me. My knees shook so badly I thought I might fall. But I sat down and placed my hands on the keys.
Play, Isla. Just play.
The music came out soft and slow. "Blotted Currents," the song I wrote when I was thirteen, the one about losing my parents. Every note dug into my chest like a nail.
And as I played, something caught my eye.
A thin red line on the white carpet.
At first I thought it was spilled wine.
But wine didn't trail.
Wine didn't drip.
Wine didn't leave marks like someone had been dragged.
Blood.
Fresh blood.
My stomach flipped. I blinked hard, thinking maybe it was my imagination. But when I looked again, the stain was still there.
A thin trail leading away from the altar…
…behind a tall curtain…
…into the shadows.
My fingers slipped on the keys.
I stopped playing.
I stood up.
A production assistant rushed to me immediately. "Keep playing."
"I..I saw something"
"It's part of the show," she said quickly, grabbing my arm. "Don't worry."
I pulled my hand away. "Part of what show?"
She leaned in and whispered fast, like she didn't want anyone else to hear.
"You signed a media release when you arrived. This entire wedding is a recorded event. There are cameras everywhere. So please just play your song."
Cameras?
My head snapped up.
And suddenly I saw them.
Small black lenses hidden inside the flower vases.
Tiny blinking dots tucked inside the chandeliers.
A shining light behind the cake stand.
My chest tightened.
My throat closed.
My heartbeat went wild.
I never signed up for this.
I never wanted my face on TV.
I never wanted attention.
This was wrong.
This was all wrong.
As I stared around in growing horror, I realized something worse.
The cameras weren't only pointed at the bride and groom…
They were pointed at ME.
My hands began to shake again. I backed away from the piano.
"No," I whispered. "This can't be real."
But it was.
I walked toward the blood trail, trying to see where it led, but before I could lift the curtain, a tall guard stepped in front of me.
"You shouldn't be here," he said coldly.
"I just need to"
"Move along, Miss Moretti."
Moretti.
Not Torres.
For now.
I stepped back, heart racing, and returned to the piano. I sat down slowly, but I couldn't focus. My fingers felt numb.
This wedding wasn't a wedding.
It was something else.
Something staged.
Something dangerous.
And I was in the middle of it.
After the ceremony, the reception started. The music got louder. People danced and laughed as if they hadn't almost been trampled minutes ago.
I sat at my piano spot again, pretending to adjust my sheet music, but really watching everyone. Watching Gianna's stiff smile. Watching Dante's tense shoulders. Watching Luciano pacing the edges of the room like a wolf guarding a gate.
Then;
Someone stumbled onto the stage.
An old man.
Gray hair wild, tie crooked, eyes red from too much wine.
"Sir, you can't be up here," a staff member tried to say.
But he pushed him away and pointed at me with a shaking hand.
"At first I thought it was the light," he slurred. "But I know that face. I KNOW IT."
My breath caught.
People turned toward me.
Whispers spread like smoke.
"Who is he?"
"What's going on?"
"Is that part of the show too?"
The old man squinted harder.
"The little Torres girl!" he shouted.
I felt the world stop.
My chest dropped.
My heart froze.
My hands went cold.
No.
No no no no.
"I knew it!" Stefano yelled. "They told me you were dead! DEAD! But look at you! Alive!" He laughed bitterly, then suddenly grew angry. "Who else did they lie about?!"
A gasp moved through the crowd.
Torres.
Torres.
Torres.
The name echoed around me in whispers.
Luciano's head snapped toward us.
Dante stopped breathing.
Gianna's face drained of all color.
And me?
I felt the ground tilt under my feet.
My secret,
My LAST name,
The thing I hid my whole life,
…spoken into a microphone
…in front of hundreds
…and broadcast on hidden cameras.
Everything went silent.
The music.
The laughter.
My heartbeat.
Then security rushed onto the stage.
"Get him out of here!"
Stefano fought them, pointing at me even as they dragged him away.
"She shouldn't be here!" he yelled. "The Torres girl brings death! They all know it!"
The doors slammed behind him.
Everyone stared at me.
Everyone.
My throat burned. My eyes blurred. My breath shook.
And in the far back of the room…
Luciano stepped forward.
Slowly.
Eyes locked on mine.
Not shocked.
Not confused.
Like he had known this moment was coming.
But I hadn't.
This was not a wedding anymore.
This was a trap.
A stage.
A secret being forced into the light.
And I was the one burning under it.