Isla's pulse pounded in her ears as Alessandro crushed the note in his fist.
Someone knew the truth.
Someone knew their marriage was a lie.
And now, they wanted her to pay for it.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "What do we do?"
Alessandro didn't hesitate. "We leave."
Panic flickered in her chest. "Leave? Where?"
He turned to her, his gaze sharp, unyielding. "Somewhere safe."
"I—"
Before she could argue, Alessandro was already moving.
He barked orders to his security team, instructing them to double their efforts, to track down who sent the message, to eliminate any threats.
And then—
His dark eyes locked onto hers.
"You have five minutes to pack."
She bristled. "You can't just—"
Alessandro closed the distance between them in a single step, his voice low, dangerous.
"This isn't up for debate, cara mia."
A shiver ran through her.
Because this time, he wasn't playing.
This wasn't about power or control or their endless push-and-pull.
This was real.
This was life and death.
And as much as she hated to admit it—
Alessandro was the only one who could protect her.
She swallowed her pride and nodded.
"Good girl," he murmured.
Then, before she could respond, he was gone, already making arrangements.
—
Fifteen minutes later, Isla was sitting in the back of a sleek black car as it sped down the highway.
Alessandro sat beside her, his jaw clenched, his fingers tapping against his thigh in quiet frustration.
The tension was suffocating.
She exhaled sharply. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"
Alessandro's gaze flicked to her. "Somewhere no one can touch you."
That wasn't an answer.
And it sure as hell wasn't comforting.
She crossed her arms. "So that's it? We just disappear?"
"For now."
"For how long?"
He didn't respond.
Frustration burned in her chest. "You can't just decide my life for me, Alessandro!"
His eyes darkened. "I can and I will if it keeps you alive."
A tense silence stretched between them.
Finally, she sighed, rubbing her temples. "This is insane."
Alessandro exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "I know."
The admission was so unexpected that she glanced at him in surprise.
For the first time, there was something raw in his expression. Something unspoken.
She swallowed. "Who sent the message?"
Alessandro's jaw tightened. "I have my suspicions."
"That's not an answer."
He let out a quiet chuckle—low, humorless. "And you wouldn't like the real answer."
Her stomach twisted. "Try me."
He turned to face her fully. "The people who are after me don't leave loose ends."
A chill ran down her spine. "And now they think I'm a loose end."
Alessandro didn't blink. "Yes."
The weight of that realization settled deep in her chest.
This wasn't just a contract anymore.
This wasn't just a game.
This was war.
And Alessandro Romano had just claimed her as his.
"From this moment on," he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding, "you don't leave my side."
She should have been terrified.
She was terrified.
But the way he looked at her—the quiet, unshakable promise in his dark eyes—made her pulse jump for an entirely different reason.
Because for the first time, Isla realized—
She wasn't just in danger.
She was his.
And there was no turning back.