Isabella POV
The polished steel doors of the elevator glided open, shattering the quiet intimacy of our descent. The lobby of the Russo building was a cavern of black-and-white marble, but beyond the heavy glass doors, a storm raged. Dozens of reporters and photographers swarmed the exit, their camera flashes turning the morning into a blinding, strobe-lit frenzy.
Dante’s *Soldiers* formed a flawless, silent wall, holding back the rabid press. Dante didn't hesitate. He wrapped a heavy, possessive arm around my waist, pulling my back flush against his side. He guided me through the glass doors and into the blinding light.
"Listen closely," Dante’s voice boomed, a low, gravelly command that instantly silenced the shouting reporters. "Meet my fiancée, Isabella."
I knew my cue. I looked directly into the nearest lens, my expression completely devoid of the fear they expected from an ex-convict. "I officially renounce the Russo name," I stated, my voice ringing clear in the crisp air. "From this day forward, I will use my mother's name. I am Isabella Serafina."
Before the press could erupt into another frenzy of questions, Dante ushered me into the cavernous back seat of his custom armored Maybach. The heavy door slammed shut, instantly severing the chaos outside. The cabin smelled of expensive leather, his sandalwood cologne, and the faint, metallic tang of gunpowder.
Dante poured two fingers of amber liquid from a crystal decanter. He didn't offer me any. "Flawless execution," he murmured, his storm-gray eyes locking onto mine. "But let’s get one thing straight, *Serafina*. Your *Vendetta* is now the Meltoni family's *Vendetta*."
He leaned closer, his massive frame consuming the space. "From today, you don't get your hands dirty. You simply tell me who you want erased from this earth, and I handle it."
My spine stiffened. "I didn't agree to be locked in a gilded cage, Dante. I am your partner in this."
"I don't partner with my property," he replied, his voice a lethal, icy whisper. "I protect it."
Before I could snap back, he shifted the board entirely. "My intelligence network, The Ghost, can trace anything," he said softly, his gaze dissecting my reaction like a scalpel. "For instance, all encrypted communications for 'Dr. X' over the last five years originated from the medical wing of your federal prison."
My heart slammed against my ribs, but I forced my breathing to remain perfectly even.
"You told me Dr. X was dead," Dante continued, the threat in his tone absolute. "You better not have lied to me, Isabella."
I met his stare, refusing to blink. "Prisons hold all kinds of talent, Dante. Maybe Dr. X was my cellmate."
He didn't push, but the dark suspicion in his eyes told me he wasn't satisfied. I needed to pivot, to test the boundaries of this violent protection he had just sworn to provide.
"If you truly control my *Vendetta* now," I said, my voice dropping to a cold murmur, "then let's talk about Gavin Conti. He isn't just my ex-fiancé. He's my prey."
A dark, predatory smirk touched the corner of Dante's mouth. He leaned back against the leather seat, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Conti's shipping company applied to use the Meltoni docks last week. A desperate move. They're bleeding cash and on the verge of bankruptcy."
My hands slowly curled into fists in my lap. Gavin had unknowingly walked right into the center of Dante's web.
The Maybach accelerated smoothly onto the highway, carrying us toward the iron gates of the Meltoni Estate.
