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Chapter 2

The Marchetti compound was exactly as I remembered—cold, imposing, and suffocating. I'd spent my entire childhood learning to navigate its dark corridors, to read the silences, to understand that in our world, family was both salvation and prison.

My brother, Marco, sat behind our late father's desk, looking every inch the don he'd become. At thirty-five, he'd survived three assassination attempts and orchestrated the downfall of two rival families. He was ruthless, calculating, and the only person in this world I could still trust.

"He knows you're here," Marco said without looking up from the ledger he was examining. "Luca called four times."

"Let him call." I sank into the leather chair across from him, exhaustion settling into my bones. "I'm not going back."

Now Marco looked up, his sharp blue eyes assessing. "You're pregnant."

It wasn't a question. Marco had always been able to read me like one of his account books.

"Yes."

"And you're keeping it?"

"I don't know yet." The honesty surprised even me. "Right now, I just need time. Space. To think."

"Thinking is a luxury we can't afford, Bella." He closed the ledger, his attention fully on me now. "Do you understand what you've done? You've left your husband. The Valentino heir. In our world, that's not just a divorce—it's a declaration."

"He was sleeping with Adriana Romano."

Marco's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. "I know."

The room tilted. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew. It's my job to know everything." He stood, pouring two glasses of scotch from the crystal decanter on the sidebar. He handed me one, which I didn't touch. "Luca approached me three weeks ago. Told me about his plan."

"His plan."

"To infiltrate the Romano family. To get close to their daughter, gain their trust, and destroy them from within." Marco took a slow sip. "I approved it."

The betrayal cut deeper than any knife. My own brother had known. Had sanctioned it. Had let me believe my marriage was real while orchestrating its destruction.

"How could you?"

"Because it's brilliant strategy. Because it will end a war that's killed dozens of our men. Because sometimes, Isabelle, we have to sacrifice personal happiness for the greater good of the family."

"I'm your sister!"

"And you're also a Marchetti. You knew what you were signing up for when you married into the Valentino family. This isn't some fairytale. This is survival."

I stood, legs shaking, rage and hurt warring inside me. "Then I want out. Out of all of it. The family, the business, the lies."

"There is no out." Marco's voice was steel. "You know too much. Your child will be the heir to two of the most powerful families in New York. You think either side will just let you walk away?"

"I'll go to the FBI. Turn state's evidence. Tell them everything."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Marco's face remained impassive, but I saw his hand move slowly toward the drawer where I knew he kept his gun.

"You won't do that," he said softly. "Because despite everything, you love this family. You love me. And you know that if you betray us, I'll have no choice but to treat you like any other traitor."

"You'd kill me? Your own sister?"

"I'd kill anyone who threatens what our father built." His eyes were cold, empty. "Even you."

We stared at each other across the desk, the chasm between us growing wider with each heartbeat. This was the world I'd been born into. A world where blood was thicker than water, but power was thicker than blood.

"Get out of my office," Marco said finally. "Stay in the compound. Think about your child. About what life you can actually give them. Because fantasy time is over, little sister. It's time to grow up."

I walked to the door, my hand on the knob, when his voice stopped me one last time.

"Luca does love you, you know. In his own twisted way. He just loves power more."