ISABELLA

Chapter 36

Leo’s POV

Matteo had already begun the briefing before I took my seat at the head of the table, my father flanking me on one side, Riccardo on the other.

“Don Salvatore, we have a problem with the Moretti,” Matteo began, his tone clipped, professional. He spread out maps and shipment logs across the table, each page meticulously annotated. “Their interference has stalled our supply routes. Shipments are delayed. Contracts are threatened. If we don’t act soon, we could lose more than money—we could lose territory.”

Riccardo leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, and muttered under his breath, “Moretti… I knew they will cause trouble sooner or later.”

I didn’t respond, keeping my expression neutral, though my jaw tightened. I had heard whispers about the Moretti family—ruthless, unpredictable—but I didn’t know they were already hitting our operations. Matteo continued, oblivious to my growing tension.

“We need a face-to-face,” Matteo said, pointing at the Moretti territories on the map. “Someone needs to go to them and make it clear that our operations are not to be disrupted. Riccardo, Leo—you should meet them together. Show unity, show strength.”

My father’s gaze was steady, piercing. “Make sure the message is clear,” he said, his voice deep and unwavering. “We cannot afford defiance from the Moretti. They are younger, yes—but they lack our discipline and loyalty. They will learn quickly what happens when they cross the DeLuca name.”

I nodded once, slow and deliberate. “Understood. Matteo, I want every shipment rerouted safely for the next week. We’ll fix this quietly, but firmly.”

Matteo acknowledged with a crisp nod, already calculating the logistics. “I’ll handle it, Leo. Nothing will go wrong. I’ve mapped alternative routes.”

Riccardo leaned forward, voice calm but edged with irritation. “And what if the Moretti’s refuses to listen? They are arrogant, reckless. Do we risk a direct confrontation?”

I smirked faintly, my eyes narrowing. “Then we make them listen. Forcefully, if necessary. But we’ll start with words first. I don’t intend to shed more blood than we have to… yet.”

Matteo glanced at my father, then back to us. “I suggest we keep this meeting tight. Control what we can, show strength without exposing vulnerabilities. The Moretti need to understand that we don’t tolerate disruptions.”

My father leaned back, rubbing his chin. “This isn’t just about shipments. This is about respect, hierarchy, and power. You two—Leo and Riccardo—must make it clear that the DeLuca family is untouchable. That includes the next generation trying to make a name for themselves.”

I exhaled slowly, running a hand over the table. “Understood. We’ll go to them together. Matteo, prepare our notes, our positions, and our men. Riccardo, stay sharp. This family doesn’t lose ground. Not to moretti, not to anyone.”

Riccardo’s jaw flexed slightly, but he inclined his head. “Fine. But you’re the one dealing with the consequences if he’s more cunning than we expect.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” I replied, voice low and even, though inside, a part of me tensed.

Matteo spoke last, finishing the briefing: “Everything is set. You’ll leave tonight. I’ll ensure the routes are secure. The Moretti will know the DeLuca name carries consequences.”

Before heading out with Riccardo, I made my way upstairs, my steps slowing the closer I got to her door. I pushed open her door.

She was sitting by the window, a book in her lap, sunlight brushing against her hair. She looked so calm it almost made me forget the storm that was waiting for me outside.

“Leo,” she said softly, looking up at me with that small smile that always made my chest tighten.

I leaned against the doorway for a moment, just watching her, then pushed myself forward and crossed the room. “I came to see you before I left,” I said, lowering my voice.

Her brows furrowed. “Left? Where are you going?”

I shook my head, reaching her side and brushing my hand gently against her cheek. “Don’t worry about that, bella. Just know I won’t be gone long.”

She set the book aside, concern flickering in her eyes. “But—”

I silenced her with a kiss on her forehead. “If you need anything while I’m gone, tell Aria or Matteo. They’ll take care of you. Understand?”

Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but she nodded instead, reluctantly.

“Good,” I whispered, my thumb brushing her jawline. “I need to know you’re safe while I’m out there.”

“Leo…” she murmured, her voice almost pleading, but I cut her off by leaning down and pressing my lips gently against hers. It was soft, quick, but enough to ground me before walking into the fire.

When I pulled back, I rested my forehead against hers for a brief second. “I’ll be back before you know it,” I promised.

Then I straightened, forcing myself to step away even though every part of me wanted to stay. Her eyes followed me as I moved toward the door, and just before I left, I glanced back once more.

She was still there, standing by the window, fingers brushing her lips where I had kissed her.

I closed the door quietly behind me and walked down the hall, the weight of the coming meeting heavy on my shoulders—but her image was carved into my mind, giving me strength.

Riccardo was already waiting downstairs, pacing by the long wooden table where the men had laid out our weapons. Matteo stood beside him, going over maps and papers, his jaw tight like it always was before a job.

“Finally,” Riccardo muttered when he saw me, though his tone carried no real annoyance. He was checking his pistol, clicking the magazine into place with practiced ease.

I ignored him and reached for my own. My favorite Glock sat on the table, polished and loaded, waiting. I checked the chamber, slid in an extra clip, then strapped the holster against my side. Another pistol went under my jacket, and finally I picked up the knife—never went anywhere without it.

Riccardo smirked. “You always look like you’re preparing for a war.”

“That’s because I am,” I shot back, tightening my jacket over my shoulders.

Matteo lifted his eyes from the table, watching both of us. His voice was calm but edged with warning. “This isn’t just about firepower. The Morettis won’t respond well if you walk in like you’re ready to kill every one of them.”

I adjusted my watch, then grabbed two extra clips and shoved them into my pocket. “They’ll respond worse if we look weak.”

Riccardo nodded in agreement, a dark grin tugging at his lips. “Finally, something we agree on.”

Before I turned to leave, I stepped closer to Matteo. My hand clapped against his shoulder, firm, leaving no room for argument. “Watch her,” I said, my voice low.

He raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly who I meant.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” I added. “If anything happens while I’m gone—”

“It won’t,” Matteo cut in, straightening. “She’s safe here. I’ll make sure of it.”

I held his gaze. Matteo wasn’t just my right hand man; he was the only one I trusted enough to leave her with. Finally, I gave him a sharp nod. “Good.”

Riccardo grabbed his jacket, slipping his gun into place. “Let’s go, brother. The Morettis aren’t going to wait all day.”

I turned one last time, glancing toward the staircase—the direction of her room. A part of me wanted to run back up there, to see her again, to tell her not to worry. But I didn’t. Instead, I forced my legs to move, heading out the door beside Riccardo.

The black SUVs were already waiting, engines humming like beasts ready to be unleashed. As I slid inside, the weight of what we were walking into pressed down on me.

But Isabella’s face stayed with me. And for her, I’d face whatever the Morettis had planned.