The next few days felt like a blur to Isla.
She had expected the adrenaline of the fight to wear off, to be replaced with a sense of peace or relief. Instead, it was as if the aftermath had left her suspended in a state of numbness—too much had happened, too quickly, and now there was nothing to hold on to but the quiet hum of uncertainty.
The estate they were staying at now was isolated, tucked away from prying eyes. It was a place Alessandro trusted, a fortress in every sense of the word. But to Isla, it felt more like a prison than a sanctuary.
She sat at the edge of the bed, her gaze lost in the view outside the window. The sky was a soft blue, the morning sun just beginning to burn away the remnants of the night's chill. But despite the calm, there was nothing peaceful about her thoughts.
She couldn't shake the image of Adrian's body, the way he had fallen so quickly, so irrevocably. She had never imagined herself capable of taking someone's life, but in that moment, it had felt necessary—survival, pure and simple. But now, with the space and time to reflect, the weight of it settled heavily on her chest.
She didn't know how to reconcile what she had done with the woman she wanted to be.
There was a knock on the door.
"Isla?" Alessandro's voice came through, rough, as though he hadn't slept.
She stood, smoothing her hand over the creases in her clothes before walking over to the door. When she opened it, Alessandro stood there, his usual commanding presence softened by the exhaustion in his eyes.
"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual.
Isla nodded and stepped aside, allowing him into the room. She wasn't sure what they needed to talk about. It felt like everything had already been said—words they didn't need to hear anymore. But here he was, standing in front of her, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension.
He took a step toward her, but she held up a hand to stop him.
"Before you say anything," she began, her voice cold, "I need to know the truth, Alessandro. I need to know who I'm dealing with."
He frowned, the hard lines of his face tightening. "What do you mean?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling exposed. "Adrian Costa. You said he wanted you dead. But I need to understand—why? Why was this personal for you? And why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Alessandro's jaw clenched, and for a moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, before he exhaled slowly.
"I didn't want you to get involved," he said finally. "I thought if you knew the full extent of what I'm up against, you'd walk away. You deserve better than this life, Isla."
"Better than this life?" she echoed, the bitterness creeping into her voice. "I'm already in this. I've been in this since the moment you pulled me into your world. And now I'm expected to sit here, not knowing the full story, not knowing what's going to happen next?"
Alessandro flinched, but his gaze didn't waver. "I didn't want to put you in danger. I still don't."
She shook her head, frustration bubbling up. "But you already did, Alessandro. Every time you kept something from me, every time you made decisions without me, you put me in danger. And now I'm supposed to just trust you because you tell me it's 'for my own good'?"
His expression darkened. "I've done everything to protect you. Everything. Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted you to get caught up in my war?"
She swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. "Then why didn't you trust me, Alessandro? Why didn't you trust me enough to let me make my own choices?"
He took a step forward, his eyes searching hers. "Because I thought I could keep you safe by keeping you out of it. But I see now that I was wrong."
There was something raw in his voice now, something vulnerable that she hadn't expected. And for a moment, she saw the man beneath the ice, the one who had been so careful with his emotions, so guarded in his actions.
But the ache in her chest didn't go away. Trust, once broken, wasn't easily mended.
"I can't keep doing this, Alessandro," she whispered. "I can't keep pretending like I'm not a part of this... this mess. But I need you to understand something. If we're going to survive this, we need to be honest with each other. No more secrets. No more lies."
Alessandro reached for her then, his hand gently brushing against hers. "I promise, no more secrets."
But even as the words left his mouth, Isla knew the truth. Promises were easy to make. Keeping them was something else entirely.
The weight of the decision loomed over them both, and for the first time in a long while, Isla wasn't sure what came next.