ISABELLA
The next three days blurred into motion.
Not chaos — Adrian didn’t allow chaos — but a kind of controlled urgency that made my head spin. Every detail of the wedding was handled with military precision. No announcements. No invitations. No family involvement. No leaks.
The staff believed the wedding was in three months.
Only Tobias knew the truth.
Because Adrian trusted no one.
Not his family.
Not mine, apparently.
Not even the people who’d served the Salvatores for decades.
Only Tobias.
And now… me.
By noon the next day, I was standing in front of the Salvatore mansion — if you could even call it a mansion. It was a damn fortress.
A sprawling estate of stone and steel, surrounded by high walls topped with discreet razor‑wire. Security cameras dotted every corner, eve
