Chapter 12 My reckoning
ISla’s POV.
I didn’t remember leaving the dining room.
One moment I was standing there, my father’s voice still ringing in my head, the anonymous burning into my chest.
The next moment, I was walking fast, too fast.
My feet moved on their own, carrying me through the long halls of the Romano mansion, past servants who bowed and pretended not to see the panic on my face.
I didn’t stop. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t breathe.
I reached the south wind and pushed my door open, slamming it shut behind me.
My heart was racing so hard that it hurt.
I locked the door, then leaned my back against it.
Sliding down until I was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest.
My hands were shaking. My father’s words replayed again and again.
Don’t forget who controls your life. Don’t forget Iris.
I pressed my palm to my mouth to stop the sound trying to escape from them.
No. I wouldn’t cry.
Crying never saved anyone. I scrambled up and grabbed my phone from the table.
Josie.
I needed Josie. I dialed her number.
Once, no answer. I dialed again, still nothing.
My chest tightened. “Pick up,” I whispered. “Please.”
I called again. This time, the line connected.
“Josie?” I whispered urgently.
Her breathing came through first. Fast and uneven.
“Isla,” she said, her voice low. Too low. “I can’t talk for long.”
Something was wrong. “Where are you?” I asked.
There was movement on her end. A soft shuffle, like a fabric brushing against something.
“I’m hiding,” she said quickly. “He’s home.”
My stomach dropped. “Father?” I asked.
“Yes.” My grip tightened around the phone.
“Did he say anything?” I asked.
Her breathing stuttered. “He’s angry,” she whispered. “He knows you’ve been asking questions.”
I swallowed hard. “I didn’t say anything,” I said. “I swear.”
“I know,” she said. “But he’s watching everyone now.”
Fear crawled up my spine. “Josie,” I said, lowering my voice, “Tell me the truth about the wedding.”
There was silence. She exhaled slowly.
“Isla… you already know.”
“I know I wasn’t the intended bride,” I said. “That’s all I know.”
She didn’t answer right away. “Josie,” I pressed. “Say something.”
Before she could respond, I heard footsteps.
Heavy footsteps, slow and close.
“Josie?” I whispered urgently.
Her breathing went sharp. “Hide the phone,” she whispered.
Too late. A hand snatched the phone from her.
I recognized the voice instantly. It was cold, cruel, and controlled.
“So,” my father said, his voice was calm in a way that made my blood sweat. “You’re still clinging to each other.”
“Let her go,” I snapped, standing up. “This has nothing to do with her.”
He chuckled.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “Everything you do involves your sister.”
My nails dug into my palm. “What do you want?” I asked.
“You know what I want,” he replied. “Obedience.”
He paused, then his voice dragged lower.
“Or should I remind you what happens to Iris when you forget?”
My breath caught. “Don’t touch him,” I said. “Please.”
“Then behave,” he said simply.
I heard Josie’s muffled protest in the background.
“Don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll be keeping an eye on her too.”
My chest felt like there was a nail piercing in it.
“If anything happens to her…” I started.
He cut me off. “You’ll do nothing,” he said coldly. “Because you can’t.”
The line went dead. I stared at my phone. My hands were numb.
Josie. Iris. Both trapped because of me.
A knock sounded in the door, sharp and firm.
My heart jumped. I didn’t move.
Another knock, slower this time. “Isla,” a male voice echoed.
He’s here. My pulse spiked. I wiped my face quickly, straightened my clothes, and unlocked the door.
When I opened it, he was already stepping inside.
He didn’t even ask for permission. He never did.
He shut the door behind him, and the air shifted instantly.
His presence filled the room without touching anything.
His eyes swept over me in one slow look.
I still clutched my phone in my hand.
“Who were you talking to?” He asked.
His voice was calm. “No one,”I said.
He didn’t believe me. I could tell by the way his jaw tightened.
“You ran out of breakfast,”he said. “That’s rude.”
“I wasn’t hungry,” I replied.
He stepped closer. One step, then another.
I backed up until the edge of the bed pressed into my legs.
“You were shaking,” he said quietly. “You still are.”
I hated that he noticed. “I’m fine,” I said.
He stopped inches away. “You’re lying.”
My throat tightened. “Why are you here?” I asked.
His gaze dropped on my lips for half a second. Then back to my eyes.
“Because you’re my wife,” he said. “And you don’t run from me.”
The word wife hit differently now.
It felt heavy, confusing, and dangerous.
“I needed space.” I said.
He leaned closer. “You don’t get space from me,” he murmured.
My breath caught. His presence pressed into me without him touching me.
“You were crying,” he said.
I shook my head. “No.”
His hand lifted. He brushed his thumb just under my eye.
I froze. I couldn’t move. “There,” he said softly. “Tears.”
My chest burned. “I said I’m fine,” I snapped, pushing his hand away.
His expression darkened. “Don’t push me,” he said.
Silence fell between us. A heavy thick silence. Then
his tone shifted.
“Who upset you?” He asked.
I laughed bitterly. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he said.
I looked away. “I can’t,” I whispered.
He moved closer again. One hand planted beside my head on the wall.
“You can,”he said. “You just don’t want to.”
My body reacted before my mind could stop it.
My heart raced. My skin warmed. And I hated it.
“You scare me,” I admitted quietly.
His eyes softened for a second, then hardened again. “Good,” he said. “Dear keeps you alive.”
His phone rang.
The sound cut through the tension between us.
He stepped back slightly and pulled it off. His expression changed when he saw the name.
Andre De Lucia.
“Answer it,” I said softly.
He looked at me, then answered. “What do you want?” He said coldly.
A pause, then he clenched his jaw. “She’s not your concern,” he said.
Another pause, and his eyes locked on mine.
“No,” he said slowly. “She’s under my protection.”
My heart stuttered.
“I don’t care what you want,” he continued. “Stay away.”
He ended the call. The silence that followed was dangerous.
“Who was that?” I asked.
His gaze darkened. “Someone who doesn’t know when to stop,” he said.
He cupped my face. “Listen to me,” he said.
“No matter what anyone tells you…”
His thumb brushed my lip.
“… you belong here.”