chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE — HIS HOUSE, HER RULES

Isabella stood in the dining room long after Lucas left. She touched her cheek where his fingers had rested and quickly pulled her hand away, embarrassed by her own reaction. “It's nothing,” she whispered to herself. “He's just my husband.” But somehow, saying it didn't make her heart calm down.

She returned to her breakfast, but she couldn't concentrate. Her mind kept going back to what Lucas had said. Someone was watching the house. She had never imagined that marrying him would put her in danger.

After breakfast, Isabella decided to explore the mansion. If this was going to be her home, she wanted to know every corner of it. She walked through the long hallway, looking at the paintings hanging on the walls. Some showed members of the Moretti family, all of them serious and intimidating.

She stopped in front of one particular portrait. A young Lucas stood beside an older man who looked almost exactly like him.

“That's Mr. Moretti's father.”

Isabella jumped and turned around. One of the maids stood behind her.

“Oh. I didn't hear you.”

The maid smiled. “I'm sorry.”

“Was Lucas close to his father?”

The woman's smile disappeared.

“It's not my place to talk about the family.”

Isabella noticed the change in her expression.

“Was he a bad man?”

The maid looked toward the hallway before answering quietly, “His father was feared by everyone.”

“And Lucas?”

The maid hesitated.

“Lucas became worse after his father died.”

Isabella frowned.

“Worse?”

Before the maid could explain, a man's voice came from behind them.

“That's enough.”

They both turned.

Lucas stood at the end of the hallway.

The maid immediately lowered her head.

“I'm sorry, sir.”

“Leave us.”

The maid hurried away.

Isabella looked at Lucas.

“I was only asking.”

“I heard.”

“Why didn't you tell me about your father?”

“Because you didn't ask.”

“I just did.”

Lucas sighed and walked toward the portrait.

“My father was a dangerous man. He taught me everything I know about this world.”

Isabella looked at the younger version of him in the painting.

“Did you love him?”

Lucas was silent for a moment.

“Yes.”

The answer surprised her.

“Even though he was dangerous?”

“He was still my father.”

Isabella nodded slowly.

Lucas looked at her.

“You shouldn't listen to everything people say about my family.”

“Then who should I listen to?”

His eyes met hers.

“Me.”

She smiled faintly.

“That sounds like another rule.”

Lucas's lips curved into a small smile.

“Maybe it is.”

Isabella shook her head.

“You have too many rules.”

“And you have too many questions.”

“Maybe we're even.”

Lucas laughed quietly.

It was the first time Isabella had heard him laugh.

And she liked the sound more than she wanted to admit.

But neither of them noticed the man standing outside the mansion gates, watching the house carefully.

He held a phone to his ear.

“She doesn't know yet,” he said.

A voice answered from the other end.

“Good. Keep watching her.”

The man looked toward the mansion.

“Lucas Moretti won't let anyone near her.”

There was a pause.

“Then we don't go through Lucas.”

The man's eyes narrowed.

“We go through Isabella.”

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