A weapon.
Luca moved toward me fast enough to make me flinch.
His hand closed around my wrist carefully but firmly. “We’re leaving.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“You don’t understand what’s happening.”
“I understand perfectly.”
His expression turned deadly calm. “Bella.”
I hated that my heart still reacted to his voice.
Vanessa stepped closer. “The Russians won’t attack publicly, but if they suspect—”
“I know what they’ll do,” I snapped.
The room went quiet again.
Because now everyone understood something else.
I knew too much.
I had spent three years beside Luca Moretti. I knew how mafia wars worked. How children disappeared. How families used fear as currency.
And Luca finally realized exactly why I had vanished without warning.
Not because I stopped loving him.
Because I was terrified.
