"I will," I agreed. That was the whole point.
"I will slit your throat in your sleep if you go back on your word," she told me, voice shaking, but delivering the threat regardless. I liked that. But the guard holding onto her, well, he yanked her hard, making her wince.
"Don't touch her," I snapped, making the man shrink back, and Isabella's brows draw together. "Any wife of mine will be protected and will want for nothing," I said, looking over at Emilio. "She won't come to harm by my hand, or by anyone in this Family. It's the right decision," I added, looking over at Lorenzo.
"You can't be considering this," Alessa insisted, shooting daggers at Lorenzo Costa, our Capo dei Capi.
"It doesn't sound like the decision is mine," Lorenzo said, giving Emilio an apologetic look.
"You can stop it," Emilio insisted as he looked at his boss and longtime friend, tone desperate.
"Milo," Isabella said, drawing her brother’s attention with the nickname. Once she had it, she waved her arms at the dozens of armed guards around. "This is the only way you walk out of here alive today,” she reminded him.
"So you have to lose your life?" Emilio asked, voice getting rough.
"I'll live, Milo. And I will see you. Right?" she asked, looking at me, gaze desperate.
To that, I shrugged. "After a few months to make sure they are abiding by the truce, yes."
"Then it's settled,” she said, shoulders straightening a little.
"You—"
"You heard her," I said. "It is settled. Now go."
"We can't go. I can't just leave her here with you,” Emilio said. I understood his protectiveness. But it was over. It was settled. She’d agreed. They couldn’t say I was forcing her per se. It didn’t matter if she liked the choices, she still made a decision.
"That is exactly what you are going to do," I insisted as my men moved closer toward them.
I waved at Isabella, my soon-to-be wife, waiting for her to approach, then reaching to undo her handcuffs.
She avoided my gaze, but stayed by my side as she watched her loved ones make their way toward the door, having no further say in the matter.
Though Emilio’s gaze said he was going to do whatever it took to see his sister got away from me.
“I, ah, what now?” Isabella asked, gaze downcast.
“Are you asking your shoes or me?” I asked, waiting for her to gather her courage to look at me.
“You,” she said, voice tight.
“Now, we marry,” I told her, shrugging, and waving toward one of my men who approached, making her shriek and jump away.
“No. Please. No. Don’t put me back in that room, please,” she begged, eyes welling up and pouring over before she could even attempt to save her pride and blink them away. “I won’t try to run. I won’t. I said I am going to stay. And I will. Just don’t lock me up in there,” she cried, pressing a hand to her throat, making me aware of two things at once.
One, she clearly had issues with claustrophobia.
Two, she didn’t fully grasp the deal she’d just made.
“I am not your warden, Isabella,” I said, watching as she blinked up at me through watery eyes. “I am your fiancé,” I added, reaching into my pocket to produce the ring.
CHAPTER THREE
Isabella
He was my warden, though, wasn’t he?
Because I couldn’t leave. Not without him seeking out and slaughtering everyone I loved. I could never let that happen.
I actually felt a little whiplashed from the whole thing. It didn’t help that I’d been locked in that teeny room with no window or hope for escape. Each moment inside there had the walls closing in tighter and tighter until it seemed like all the air had gotten sucked up, making my chest heavy and my throat tight.
That was when I finally broke down and lost the battle with the tears. I didn’t want to shed them. I didn’t want to be that weak. But I’d had issues with small spaces ever since I’d gotten myself trapped inside a shed at my Great Aunt’s farm once. I’d been stuck there for almost twelve hours and had been almost out of my mind with fear by the time the family found me.
It had been an issue ever since.
I actually felt like I was choking a bit when I had to step into my closet to find something in the corner of it.
So being in that little rooms for hours had set my anxiety through the roof. Then to be dragged out to see my family there, to hear that I was being used as some sort of white flag in their war, and to realize that if I didn’t let myself be used that way, my loved ones would die, well, yeah, it was no wonder I literally felt a little unstable on my own two feet. And as for my head, well, it kept shooting off in a dozen different directions every second.