Valentina.
“I love Isabella, Valentina. And she chose me. Not Matteo. Not you. Me.”
I didn’t believe him.
She chose me. Not Matteo. Not you. Me.
Luca’s words cut deep, sharp as any blade, but I refused to let them sink in. He stood there, his green eyes gleaming with that dark, dangerous confidence, expecting me to break under the weight of his revelations.
But I wasn’t going to break.
Not for him.
“No,” the word came out as a whisper, the cold air making it feel like a vice around my throat as I shook my head. “You’re lying.”
Isabella would never chose him.
Luca’s smirk faltered, just for a second, before returning in full force. He circled me like a predator stalking its prey, but I didn’t flinch.
Not this time.
“You think I’m lying?” He taunted, his voice smooth like velvet. “You think Isabella would choose Matteo? You think she loved Matteo?”
I didn’t think. I knew it.
And that slight slip earlier confirmed it.
My heart pounded so forcefully in my chest that I was scared it was about to fly off, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Yes,” I said firmly. “Because I know my sister. She wouldn’t be with a man like you, who manipulates, twists words, and lie. She would never love you.”
Luca’s eyes flashed with something. Anger? Frustration? It was hard to tell with someone like him. A master at concealing his true emotions.
“She told me about you, about how you’ve always had this obsession with her,” I continued, my voice stronger now with the lies I wove. “But that’s all it was supposed to be. An obsession. She loves Matteo. She chose Matteo, and you can’t stand that, can you?”
Anger. I could feel it growing.
Luca stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing on me. “You think you know everything, don’t you, Valentina?” His voice was a low growl, any hint of playfulness gone. “You think you know what she wanted? You’re wrong.”
I had to stop myself from clenching my fists, as the anger within me simmered beneath the surface. “No, Luca. You’re wrong. You’re trying to twist everything, but Isabella loves Matteo. She never would have chosen you.”
His smirk twisted into something darker, more sinister. “And yet here you are, playing the role of Matteo’s wife. Tell me, Valentina, how does it feel to be his second choice?”
The sly bastard.
He wanted to change this.
But as much as I knew that, the words stung. I pushed the pain away.
This wasn’t about me. It was about finding my sister.
“You’re not going to distract me with your lies, Luca. I know Isabella’s not with you.”
Luca’s smirk faded entirely now, replaced by a cold, hard expression. “You’re wasting your time, Valentina. Chasing a dream that doesn’t exist. Isabella isn’t the person you think she is.”
“Then why don’t you tell me the truth?” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. “Why don’t you tell me where she is, if you’re so convinced you know her better than I do?”
For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Something close to hesitation. But then he stepped back, the mask of indifference slipping back into place.
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he said, his voice cold. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
I shook my head, refusing to let him control the conversation any longer. “No. You’re done playing your games, Luca. I came here to find my sister, and I’m not leaving without her.”
Luca chuckled, but there was no humour in it. “You really think you’re in control here, don’t you? That you can waltz in and demand answers from me?”
“I think you’re desperate,” I continued, my voice steady. “You’re scared because you know I’m getting closer to the truth. That’s why you’re trying so hard to confuse me, to throw me off. But it won’t work.”
His jaw clenched, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in his armour. The smooth, calculated facade was slipping, revealing the desperation beneath. He took a step toward me, his voice low and steady. “We can just make it easy for you. My father doesn’t want you married to Matteo, Matteo needs to get rid of you…”
Panic clawed at my throat at his words. Make it easy for me?
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper.
He stepped even closer, his gaze locked onto mine as he traced my neck with his fingers. “Isabella didn’t have a choice from the start. Your mother made sure of that when she was about to sell her off.”
About to.
Isabella had been sold to a “Dante” when we last spoke. A man that had been dead for years. But it wasn’t an about t.
“Your mother eventually sold her,” Luca continued when I didn’t say anything, his voice harsh. “Just like she sold you to Matteo when Isabella became unavailable. Only you weren’t as lucky as her because she had me to run to.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me.
My mother had sold Isabella. That much was known to me because Isabella told me. I never knew my mother was capable of cruelty, of making selfish decisions. I never confronted her.
But all what he was saying didn’t mean she had chosen Luca. Or that she chose to abandon Matteo.
I straightened my shoulders, my resolve hardening. “If what you’re saying is true, then where is she?”
Luca’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched in frustration. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me for a long moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a sigh, he stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides. “Fine. I’ll show you.”
I watched him cautiously as he turned toward the far corner of the dimly lit room. For a moment, I thought he was going to call for one of his men, but instead, he simply waited.
The shadows shifted, and then I saw her.
Isabella.
She stepped out of the darkness like a ghost, her face pale, her eyes wide and haunted. My breath caught in my throat, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at my sister, unable to believe she was really there.
She looked thinner, her once vibrant eyes now dull with exhaustion, her long dark hair hanging limply around her face.
But it was her.
My sister.
Alive.
“Isabella…” I whispered, taking a step forward.
She didn’t say anything at first, her gaze flickering between me and Luca. There was something in her eyes. Guarded. As if she wasn’t sure whether to trust me or not.
Not like the Isabella I met weeks back.
My heart twisted painfully at the sight.
“Valentina.” she finally said, her voice soft, hesitant.
I rushed forward, pulling her into a tight embrace, but she stiffened in my arms, her body tense and unyielding. I pulled back, searching her face for some sign, some explanation for everything that had happened.
“Come with me, Isabella. Let’s go.”
But she didn’t move. She stood there, unyielding.
“We can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I belong here, Valentina. I belong with Luca.”