HIS FORBIDDEN BRIDE

CHAPTER 4

I woke up to roses.

Red. On my nightstand. Again.

But this time there was a note tucked in them.

> _Family is for life.

> Enemies don’t get to sit at the table.

> - S_

No name. Didn’t need one.

Sophia.

I crumpled the note and threw it in the fire.

Then I showered, dressed, and went downstairs.

Luca was already gone. Meeting.

Ms. DeLuca told me with a tight smile.

“He left instructions. You’re not to leave the house today.”

“Rule 1,” I said.

“Yes, Mrs. Romano.”

I spent the morning in the library. The same book. _The Art of War_.

At 2 PM, my phone buzzed. Unknown number.

> _Gardens. 3 PM. Alone.

> We need to talk.

> -S_

I should’ve ignored it.

I didn’t.

At 2:55 I was at the garden doors. Two guards.

“I’m going for a walk,” I said.

“Mrs. Romano, Mr. Romano said—”

“I’m not leaving the property,” I cut in. “I’m going to the gardens.”

They hesitated. Then nodded.

Sophia was waiting by the fountain. Red dress. Sunglasses. Wine glass in hand at 3 PM.

“Brave girl,” she said when she saw me. “Coming alone.”

“I don’t scare easy.”

“No,” she said, sipping. “You don’t. That’s the problem.”

We stared at each other.

Her: Roman princess. Me: the girl who stole her brother.

“Why did you ask me here?” I asked.

“To offer you a deal,” Sophia said. “Leave. Now. I’ll give you 5 million. New name. New country. You can take your sister.”

I laughed. Once. “You think I can be bought?”

“I think everyone can,” she said. “My brother just paid more.”

I stepped closer. “I’m not leaving.”

“Then you’ll regret it.”

“How?”

Sophia smiled. Cold. “You have no idea what Luca is. What we are. You think last night was bad? That was me being nice.”

She set her glass down on the fountain edge.

“Rule 1, right? Don’t leave the property. Pity.”

Before I could react, she shoved me.

Hard.

I slipped. The ground was wet.

My head cracked against the stone edge of the fountain.

Pain. White. Loud.

Then hands. Not hers.

“GET THE DOCTOR! NOW!”

Luca’s voice.

---

I woke up to his face.

Pale. Angry. Terrified.

I was in my bed. Bandage on my temple.

Luca was sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding my hand like he’d break it if he let go.

“You’re okay,” he said immediately. “You’re okay. 4 stitches. Concussion.”

“What happened?” My voice was hoarse.

“You fell,” he said. Too fast.

“Liar.”

His jaw ticked. “Sophia pushed you.”

I closed my eyes. “I know.”

Silence.

When I opened them, Luca was still watching me.

“Why did you go to her?” he asked quietly.

“Because she asked.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“That’s the only one you’re getting.”

He sighed. Rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“No,” he said. “You didn’t. Because I got to you in 12 seconds.”

12 seconds. From wherever he was.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Gone. To Italy. For now.”

“For now?”

Luca stood. Paced to the window. “I can’t kill my sister, Lila.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know.” He turned back. “But I can make sure she never touches you again.”

He crossed to me. Bent down. Kissed my forehead. Right over the bandage.

Gentle.

It made my chest hurt.

“Sleep,” he said. “I’m not leaving.”

He didn’t.

He sat in a chair all night. Watching.

---

Two days later I was cleared to walk around.

No Sophia. No calls.

But the house felt different. Heavier.

On night three, at 11:30 PM, there was a knock.

Luca.

No suit. Gray sweats. Black t-shirt. Hair wet from a shower.

He looked younger. Dangerous.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“It’s your house.”

“I’m asking you.”

I stepped aside.

He came in. Looked at the room. At me.

“You’re healing well.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I came to check rule 7.”

“Consequences?”

“Yeah.” He sat on the edge of my bed. Patted the spot next to him. “Sit.”

I did. Careful of my head.

Luca turned to me. “Sophia’s gone. But she’ll be back. And when she is, she’ll try again.”

“So what’s the consequence for her?”

“Banishment,” he said. “From the business. From the family dinners. From me.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s everything to her.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Luca watched me. “You’re not scared.”

“Should I be?”

“Yes.” His hand came up. Brushed my hair back from the bandage. “You should be terrified of this family.”

“I’m not,” I whispered. “I’m terrified of you.”

His eyes darkened. “Why?”

“Because you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the only thing in the room.”

Luca was quiet for a long time. Then he moved.

Closer. His knee brushing mine.

“Lila,” he said. My name like a warning.

“What?”

“If I kiss you right now, I’m not stopping.”

“I know.”

“If I touch you, it’s going to mean something.”

“I know.”

He cursed under his breath. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m healing.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” I agreed. “But I’m tired of waiting for you to decide when I’m ready.”

Luca stared at me. Then he reached up.

Cupped my jaw. Thumb over my bottom lip.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured.

“Probably.”

He kissed me.

This time there was no anger. No performance.

Just him. Careful at first. Then not.

His hand in my hair. Mine on his chest.

When we broke apart, he was breathing hard.

I was too.

“Rule 3 is still gone?” I asked, voice shaky.

“Rule 3 is ash,” he said. “New rule. You sleep in my bed tonight.”

“That’s not a rule. That’s an order.”

“Is it working?”

I looked at the bandage. At him. At the way he was looking at me like I was something to protect and ruin at the same time.

“Yes,” I said.

Luca stood. Held out his hand.

I took it.

His room was bigger. Colder. Smelled like him.

He pulled back the covers. I slid in.

He got in next to me. On top of the covers. Not touching.

But close.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

“Are you going to kiss me again?”

“If you ask nicely.”

I rolled over. Faced him.

“Kiss me, Luca.”

He did.

Soft. Lingering. Like he was memorizing me.

“Goodnight, Lila,” he whispered against my mouth.

“Goodnight, Devil.”

---

I woke up alone.

The other side of the bed was cold.

But on the nightstand was coffee. Black.

And a new note.

> _Rule 8: Anyone who hurts you answers to me.

> Anyone who touches you dies.

> Welcome to the family, wife.

> - L_

And below it, in different handwriting. Red ink.

> _This isn’t over.

> - S_

From Italy.

I folded both notes. Put them in my drawer.

Then I got up. Got dressed.

Went downstairs to face whatever came next.

Because Sophia wanted a war.

And I was done being the price.

I was ready to be the problem.