The moment he reached them, Luca's hand closed around Isabella’s wrist…not harshly, but firmly enough to make her lower the gun. With a gentle yet experienced motion, he pulled it out of her hand, and his jaw flexed dangerously as he turned to face the crowd.
“What the hell is going on here?” His voice was so authoritative and cold that everyone froze where they were…No one dared to speak.
Even Riccardo’s eyes were darting between Luca and Isabella, already piecing together enough to know that the next few minutes would be absolute c*****e.
The guard…the one who had slapped Isabella…straightened his shoulders with the same cocky arrogance, overconfidently misreading his boss.
He scoffed, pointing a thumb at Isabella. “Don Luca, we had a little situation. The Lorenzo b***h…”
Every head
