Chapter 93

Alessandro

I stood by the tall window in my office, watching the scene below like I was looking at my own personal hell unfolding on marble. The heavy drapes were pulled back just enough for me to see without being seen, and what I saw made something cold and deadly settle in my chest.

Isabella was down there in her silk robe, the fabric loose around her shoulders, her hair still messy from sleep. She looked soft and vulnerable in a way that made my jaw clench. Diego stood in front of her like some kind of judge passing sentence, his back rigid, his hands cutting through the air with sharp, cruel gestures.

I couldn’t hear the words from up here, but I didn’t need to. I had learned to read pain in the way Isabella’s shoulders drew inward, how she seemed to shrink smaller with each word that left her father’s mouth. I saw the exact moment something particularly vicious hit her—the slight recoil of her head, the way her lips pressed together like she was trying