Chapter 65 Chapter 65

Chapter 65 Chapter 65
\# IRIS'S POV #

"Are you always this dull, or am I just noticing it now?"

Mira’s voice cut through the suffocating silence like a  blade. She leaned back in her chair, twirling a silver fork between her fingers, her eyes fixed on Sandy with a look of pure, unfiltered boredom. "And who exactly told you my brother would be getting married to you?"

Sandy’s face went from pale to a blotchy, indignant red. She slammed her palms onto the white linen tablecloth, making the crystal glasses rattle. "What? We all know that! It’s been the arrangement for years. We all know I’m supposed to be his wife... right, Vincenzo?"

She turned a desperate, pleading gaze toward the head of the table. I followed her look, my heart hammering against my ribs, waiting for the patriarch to confirm the death warrant on my heart.

But Vincenzo didn't even look up. He was meticulously cutting into a piece of blood-red steak, his movements slow and  calm. He acted as if Sandy were nothing more than a buzzing fly in the room. He was busy with his food, and his silence was louder than any shout.

Mira let out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed off the high ceilings. "Girl, use your head for once," she snapped, gesturing toward me with her chin.

The room felt like it was shrinking, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and unspoken threats.

"The plan was for him to go into that estate and bring back the treasure," Mira continued, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous purr. She looked Sandy straight in the eye, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "He came back with the treasure, alright. And that treasure is sitting right beside him. Look at her. Do you really think he's trading a diamond for a piece of glass?"

I felt Salvatore’s hand slide over mine under the table, his grip firm and possessive. I wanted to pull away, to scream at all of them for talking about me like an object, a prize won in a raid.

"Is that what I am to you, Salvatore?" I whispered, my voice trembling as I turned to him. "Just the treasure from the Russo estate? A trophy to replace a contract?"

The look he gave me wasn't sweet. It was the look of a man who doesn’t give a triple fuck about anything in the word.

"You're the only thing in that house that mattered, Iris," he rasped, ignoring the rest of the table. "Everything else was just noise. And yes you’re my treasure, a very expensive one I can’t trade for anything or anyone. Not even my father."

“Bastard,” Vincenzo said, not looking up. He carefully picked a wine and took a sip.”

"Salvatore…" Sandy started again, her voice high and desperate, but she was cut off before she could even get the name out.

"That’s enough, Sandy. Stop disrupting this gathering," Drake snapped. His voice wasn't loud, but it had the weight of a gavel slamming down in a courtroom.

"Dad…"

"I said that is enough," he cut her off, his eyes flashing with a warning that finally made her shrink back into her seat.

Vincenzo finally looked up from his plate, wiping his mouth with a silk napkin as if he hadn't just watched a girl’s heart get trampled. "I guess we’re done with our little family introduction," he said, his voice smooth and cold. "Follow me, Salvatore. We have a lot to talk about."

His gaze fell on me again, and his lips curled into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. I stared back, refusing to be the first to blink. I wasn't the "calm one" anymore; I was the storm he had described.

"Good. Good," he murmured, nodding slowly. "Welcome to the family, Iris Moretti."

With that, he stood up and walked out, Drake following him like a silent shadow. The air in the room seemed to lift slightly the moment the patriarch left, but the tension didn't vanish, it just changed shape.

"Let me show you to my room here, Iris! I’m sure you’ll like it," Mira said, giggling as she hopped up from her chair.

"Let the poor girl breathe," Michael interjected, leaning back with a lazy grin.

"Shut up, I’m not talking to you," Mira snapped, sticking her tongue out at him before turning back to me.

"Iris, how's your stay here so far?" Michael asked, reaching over to pass me a piece of seasoned beef from a platter.

Before I could reach for it, Salvatore’s hand shot out, intercepting the fork. He didn't give it to me. He just held it, his knuckles white.

"I can take care of what’s mine," Salvatore said, his voice deadly. He stood up, looking at Michael with a warning that promised blood if he crossed the line again. "Follow me, Michael. Father wants to see us both."

I scoffed, watching him walk away without a second glance at me. He claimed me like an object, then left me in a room full of people who either wanted to be me or wanted me dead.

Mira clapped her hands together, a wicked glint in her eyes as she looked at me and then at a fuming Sandy. "So, now that it’s just us girls... let’s have some fun."

"Leave," Sandy hissed, her voice trembling with a cocktail of tears and venom. "Leave and never think of coming back. Do you really think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine?"

"What’s yours?" I asked.

The more she staked her claim on him, the more I felt a dark, pulsing heat rising in my chest. It wasn't just annoyance anymore, it was a possessive streak I didn’t know I had. Every time his name left her lips, it felt like a match striking against my nerves.

"Salvatore," she spat, stepping into my personal space. "He’s mine. You’re stealing him, you bitch."

I didn't flinch. I actually leaned in, my voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper that made Mira stop her giggling and watch us with wide eyes.

"Why don’t you go in there and say that to his face?" I challenged. "It’s him you have business with, not me. He’s the one who came for me, Sandy. Not the other way around. He tore through my world just to find me."

"Liar!" she shrieked, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists. "You seduced him. You trapped him with that innocent act!"

I let out a soft, cold laugh that seemed to echo in the now-silent dining room. "No, you made a mistake. I didn't trap anyone. I made that big, bad man crawl to me. I'm so far under his skin that I’m the only thing he thinks about. Every breath he takes is focused on me."  

"What?" she stammered, her hands shaking so violently she had to grab the back of a chair to stay upright.

"I’m saying you should stop calling him yours," I said, stepping past her with a shrug of my shoulders. "The fire might burn you if you get too close to what belongs to me."

Mira let out a low whistle, a slow smirk spreading across her face. "Damn, Iris. I take it back. You aren't a storm, you’re the whole hurricane."