Chapter 20 The freedom I craved for
Isla’s POV.
I woke up smiling. I had never felt this way before and it startled me.
The smile came before thought, before fear, and before reason. It was there the moment my eyes opened.
It felt soft and quiet, as if it had been waiting for permission.
I sat back slowly, the room was still dim, and the curtains were barely holding back the early morning light.
My chest felt warm and lighter. As if something heavy was lifted from it.
But then, fear followed.
Nothing in my life had ever come without a cost.
Last night replayed in pieces I didn’t ask for. His voice. His presence. The way he looked at me like I wasn’t fragile or borrowed or owned.
Like I wasn’t someone else’s responsibility.
I pressed my palm against my heart, trying to calm it.
Hope was dangerous and that was the way I had been taught.
I forced myself out of bed. Dressed without thinking too hard, and told myself this feeling would pass.
That it was nothing more than a reaction to attention I hadn’t received in a long time.
Still, it followed me.
Even as I stepped into the hallway. Even as I walked past doors and servants that bowed their heads when they saw me.
Especially when I saw my husband.
He stood near the window, posture straight, expression unreadable. The man everyone feared. The man I had married.
The man who had once showed me warmth that cracked something open inside of me… and then sealed it shut again.
He turned when he noticed my presence. “Isla.”
My name sounded heavier on his tongue than it should have.
He stood there, the silence was thick between us.
“I want us to talk,” he said.
My chest tightened with disappointment. “We’re talking,” I replied quietly.
“That’s not what I mean.”
Of course it wasn’t.
“I want things to get back,” he said. “Like it was before.”
The words weren’t sharp, but the truth carried enough weight on its own.
His jaw tightened. “You’re pulling away.”
“Yes.” I didn’t care to explain. I didn’t soften it. I didn’t apologize.
Because I was tired of shrinking.
He stepped closer. Not touching. Never touching.
“I won’t lose you,” he said.
Something inside me broke quietly.
Because I realized he meant possession, not understanding.
“I’m not something you can lose or keep,” I said.
He looked at me like he wanted to say more.
But he didn’t. And that hurt more than if he had shouted.
I quickly walked away before he could see the crack forming in my chest.
I left him there without looking back. My steps were quiet and measured, like I was trying to keep my heart from betraying me.
The house was quiet. I could still feel his presence lingering in the shadows, even when I couldn’t see him.
It was a weight I was glad to leave behind, even if it was for a short period.
The car waited outside, black and polished, reflecting the morning light. I slid into the seat, my breath caught as the city opened around me.
The Romano empire wasn’t just a building, it was a fortress of control, of wealth, and of power.
And now, part of it was mine, or at least, I could make it mine. By fighting back in the only way I knew. Strategy, and intelligence.
Damian had offered me the chance last night. A job. His personal assistant. It wasn’t just a role or a title, it was an opportunity.
It was freedom. Something I hadn’t felt in years. The thought that I could move, breathe, and even think for myself without watching anyone watching my every move made my chest ache.
But I couldn’t let myself forget. Not for a second.
Dante. My husband. Cold, unreadable, and capable of anything. The man who could make me feel warm and abandon me in the same heartbeat.
The man I shouldn’t want and couldn’t stop thinking about.
The car moved through the streets. I was so lost in my own thoughts. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining what working for Damian would look like.
There was a quiet in him that pulled me in, a dominance I couldn’t resist, and a claim that felt… right.
And then, there was Dante. Sharp edges. Ice in his touch and possession lurking beneath every glance.
I couldn’t untangle my feelings. Every step I took toward Damian was another step away from the man I was supposed to call my husband.
The building stood before me, massive and imposing. It was made of glass and steel.
Damian’s office was on the top floor, a place where decisions that shaped people’s lives were made daily.
Where power was quiet and dangerous. And now, I was standing here, as part of it, walking beside him side by side, and watching him in action.
I stepped into the lobby, the air conditioning chilled my skin. A receptionist looked up,nodded, and handed me a security badge. “First day?” She asked.
“Yes,” I said, voice steady.
“Good luck,” she replied, almost conspiratorial. “He’s demanding.”
I smiled faintly, and nodded. Demanding. That was the word I understood. That was a word I respected.
I had learned long ago that people who demanded were worth watching, worth understanding, and worth following.
The elevator ride felt like I was moving through glass.
I could see the city spread below me. Cars, people, lights. Life that moved on, unaware of the storms inside these walls. I drew steadily in a breath.
The doors opened, and the quiet office floor welcomed me. The sound of the air conditioner, and the soft click of heels against the polished marble.
But then I saw him. Damian, standing by the floor to ceiling windows.
Hands in his pockets, posture loose but alert. He stood by the window, the city reflecting in his eyes as if he was already two steps ahead from everyone, and yet… he noticed me immediately.
“Isla,” he said. He didn’t look surprised. He didn’t hesitate. He just showed acknowledgment. His voice was steady and calm.
“Good morning,” I replied, voice small but firm.
He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The smile was enough to make my heart flutter without shame.
“Ready for your first day?” He asked, turning to walk toward his desk.
I nodded. “I think so.”
“You’ll do fine,” he said simply. “Just… pay attention. Listen. Learn. Don’t let anyone take advantage of you.”
Those words hit me harder than I expected. Protection, care, concern… all disguised in business advice. I nodded again, swallowing.
The day began. And it was… exactly what I needed. Papers, calls, meetings, and schedules.
I moved, acted, and responded. Every task was completed without hesitation, and every glance met with Damian gave me assurance that he saw me, noticed me and valued me.
I felt hope. Tiny spark at first. Quiet, but alive. It felt like a small chance to matter, to act and to breathe.
A chance to be someone else for a while, to have power, even if it was small and temporary.
But nothing lasted without friction.
Lucia arrived.
She didn’t knock. She didn’t ask. She just walked in smiling, perfectly put together. Expensive scent, expensive hair and expensive arrogance.
And she knew exactly who I was. Exactly who I belonged to.
“Look who’s here,” she said, voice light but sharp. Her gaze skimmed over my paper. “Trying to impress him already?”
I didn’t flinch. I met her eyes, calm. “You’re always everywhere.”
She laughed softly, like it amused her that I dared to breathe in her space. “You now work here. Oh I see… good for you.”
“Learning quickly,” I corrected evenly.
Her smile didn’t falter. “Ambitious. Careful not to step too far, though some of us have privileges."
I didn’t answer. I didn’t raise my voice. I just let the word hang. Let them try to intimidate me.
And then Damian stepped forward.
Her gaze flicked to him. Her eyes were filled with confidence. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t shout, but the air shifted. Her lips pressed into line, her posture changed.
“Watch your mouth,” he said softly, but his words yielded command.
She blinked and forced herself to smile. “I was just…”
“Step back,” he said, voice flat.
And she did.
Something inside me soared. Not just relief. It wasn’t just safety. But… recognition. That he had my back. That he saw and valued me, and that in this world of power, I wasn’t invisible.
Lucia left without a word, her smirk fading. The tension didn’t leave immediately. My chest still raced.
My hands trembled slightly. But it was a trembling. A trembling of possibility and hope.
His gaze met mine. No words were needed. I already understood.
But even in that warmth, fear lingered.
Hope doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Freedom doesn’t come without risk. Every step I took away from Dante toward Damian, carried consequences.
My siblings, my father, my position… they all hung in the balance.
But then my cell phone vibrated.
Be careful. They’re watching. Don’t trust too easily.
I froze. Because the war wasn’t over. Not in the mansion. Not outside. Not anywhere.
Some cages never disappear; they just change shape.
And at that moment, I knew. I had a protector. A choice. A chance. And yet… I wasn’t free.
As I looked at Damian, standing tall and calm, I realized something frightening.
Hope could make you brave.
But it could also make you reckless.
And the recklessness I felt in my chest…
Was just the beginning.