"The Vow He Denied"

"A Deal with the Devil" Isabella's POV There was a strong sense of danger throughout the evening. Every sound seemed enhanced as though the city itself were holding its breath, the air buzzing with expectancy. Bathed in rich golds and reds, but as frigid as its owner, my heart raced as I stood in the great ballroom of the DeLuca home. Isabella, you ought to have stayed away. There was a tinge of frustration in his thick, gravelly voice, but it also carried a darker quality. Stepping out of the shadows, Alessandro DeLuca locked gray eyes with me like a predator spotting prey. I clenched my hands, the fabric of my gown murmuring on my quivering fingertips. "You do not get to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Alessandro." Like a miracle in itself, my voice was more consistent than I felt. You lost that right five years ago. His eyes closed and his jaw grew tense, a muscle twitching. He moved still another step forward, and my heels clicked against the marble floor as I naturally moved back. "Five years ago, you ran," he replied, his voice low and nearly growling. You disappeared completely, leaving no trace behind. Do you know what I had to do to track you? I raised my chin in defiance of his intimidation. "Perhaps I was seeking. Our distance vanished in an instant. Our distance vanished in an instant. Suddenly he stood in front of me, his wide figure towering above me and his body's heat invading my space. His smell, woodsy with a trace of something smoky, wrapped about me like a vice. "You don't mean that," he said, his voice nearly delicate. Almost. "Don't I?" I asked, and I shot back, albeit my voice stammered somewhat. Damn him. Damn, the way his stillness still made me shudder. My heart betrayed me, hammering in my chest as his eyes burned into me. I despised it. He looked exactly the same—no, worse. More gorgeous, more threatening; time sharpens his features and his air of control. His dark hair was somewhat longer, and his high cheekbones were more noticeable. But his eyes were exactly the same. They still could have me stripped naked. "I've rebuilt my life," I said, my voice softer now but no less resolutely. I am not in need of you. I have no need for this. "You lie." He bent in, his breath soft against my ear. "You consistently lied terribly, Isabella." His comments made me shudder down my spine and made me despise myself. After the way he had broken me over years of trying to piece myself back together, I wanted to toss him away and yell at him. Still, I was unable to move. Instead of his physical presence, I felt imprisoned by memories of what we were and could never be again. "You're really haughty," I said, rediscovering my voice. "You believe you could just stroll back into my life and things would naturally fall apart? News flash, Alessandro; it doesn't work that way. "I never stopped looking for you," he added, his voice harsher now, piercing into my defenses. "Do you know how much I regretted it?" "Regrets what? Denouncing me? Telling me I was too frail to be your wife? That I fit not for your wonderful world? My voice broke and I hated how raw I sounded. "Save your regrets, Alessandro. To me, they have no meaning. His face grew black, and for a second I felt as though I could see something flickering in his eyes, perhaps suffering. Regrets? But suddenly it vanished, replaced by the chilly mask he wore rather brilliantly. With a deep rumble in his voice, he replied, "You have no idea what I've been through." "What do I have to do to keep you safe?" "Safe? I laughed bitterly, the sound sharp even to my own hearing. Try not to make me laugh. Five years ago, your priorities were not my protection. Why should I start right now? His hand flew out, clutching my wrist—not strong but enough to prevent me from turning away. His contact gave me a jolt, and I detested how my body let me down. "You don't understand," he replied, his voice faint now, nearly begging. "Isabella, I messed something up here. An awful error. I pulled my hand free, stinging where his fingers had been. And now do you want pardon? Is that it? With a hard emotional voice, he said, "I want you." "We are what I want." I stopped; my heart stuttered in my chest. His comments lingered between us, weighty and unworkable. My head cried out to tell me to leave this room and never turn around. However, my wandering heart whispered a different message entirely. Glass breaking sliced through the suspense like a gunshot. My breath hitched; I startled, and Alessandro went straight ahead to cover me with his body. "What the heck was that??" I said softly, my voice shaking. His voice sharp and forceful, he said, "Stay behind me." His hand went for the revolver holstered at his side, a reminder of the world he lived in—the world I had fought so hard to flee. The ballroom doors opened before I could argue, and a troop of armed men rushed in under masks, hiding their faces. As one of them aimed a gun at Alessandro, my blood turned cold. "Well, well," the mocking-voiced commander remarked. "The great Alessandro DeLuca startled us. The way the tables have flipped. Alessandro tensed, his fingers gripping the revolver at his side. Let her go if you are here for me. She has nothing at all related to this. The masked man laughed, a spooky sound that made my tummy turn around. She has everything to do with this, too. The woman you deserted is Isabella Marino. Did you honestly believe she would remain invisible always? As the man's comments sank in, my blood turned to ice. He knew me personally. He knew about my background with Alessandro. And suddenly it seemed I was a target. Alessandro stepped forward and snapped, "Let her go." His voice was lethal, his presence radiating threat. Raising his gun, the leader pointed it squarely at me. "You have options, De Luca. Surrender, sometimes known as watching her die. As Alessandro's eyes locked with mine, a tempest of emotions whirled in his eyes—fear, rage, desperation—my breath seized in my throat. "Alessandro," I said, my voice hardly audible. But the guy was fired before he could reply. My ears could still clearly hear the gunfire. I momentarily struggled to understand what had happened. Time seemed to pause as Alessandro shot toward me, his powerful arms encircling me and dragging me to the floor. His weight pulled me down and shielded me, hammering my heart against my ribs. "Stay down!" Alessandro let out a strong, authoritative yell. Alessandro's body remained rigid, his muscles clenched like a spring, poised to unleash their power. Realizing I wasn't hit, I opened my eyes. The bullet missed and settled into the marble column behind us. My pulse beating with panic, my breath came in jagged gasps. The masked man laughed, the sound sharp against my nerves. "Missed for intended use, De Luca." Think of it as a caution. The next time I will not.