Matteo De Luca watched Isabella leave the building from the security feed in his office.
She didn't look back, as she was confidently bent on leaving.
She never did anything more than enchant her eyes and lined wings to her feet.
The camera followed her as she crossed the marble steps and later found herself onto the street, her coat wrapped tight on her, with a composed posture, calm and controlled. Too calm for a woman whose marriage was quietly collapsing.
Matteo's jaw stiffened, because her calmness terrified him more than anger ever could.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked, forcing his breathing into control.
Distance kept her alive.
That was the rule, the only one that had ever mattered.
He had learned it young, and anyone close to him became leveraged and anyone loved, also became a target. His world fed on weakness and punished attachment. Isabella had been the one exception.
And she had nearly died because of it.
A knock cut through the room.
"Come in," Matteo said, his voice already cold.
Luca stepped inside, sharp suit, relaxed smile, the kind men wore when they believed themselves untouchable. "You missed breakfast," he said lightly. "Again."
Matteo didn't look away from the screen. "Say what you came to say."
Luca glanced at the monitor before it went dark. "She's restless," he said. "People notice things like that."
Matteo's eyes darkened. "Watch your words."
"I'm only saying," Luca continued smoothly, unfazed, "a woman like Isabella needs attention. If you don't give it to her, someone else eventually will."
Matteo turned then slowly, but deliberately and then said, "violence lived in the space between breaths."
"No one touches my wife."
Luca lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, no disrespect intended."
But the damage had already been done.
Matteo dismissed him with a look and when the door shut, silence rushed back in, heavier than before. He stood and crossed the room, shutting off the monitor completely. Watching her without being able to reach her was a special kind of punishment, one he inflicted on himself daily.
He remembered the beginning too clearly.
Isabella was barefoot in his kitchen, laughing at nothing, stealing olives from his plate, touching his face like he was neither dangerous nor inwardly broken. Loving him as if he could be normal.
That had been before the threats started, and things started falling apart.
Before photographs of her appeared on his desk, marked with dates and locations.
Before the bullet shattered his car window, with her sitting beside him, screaming his name.
That night, he had made a decision.
He pulled away slowly and carefully stopped touching her in public, shifted from sleeping beside her. He, however, ceased from letting her see the cracks in him.
Every step back felt like tearing something out of his chest, but it kept her breathing.
He never stopped loving her.
Matteo grabbed his coat.
He needed to see her, even if it was only from a distance.
The elevator ride down felt endless as his reflection in the mirrored walls looked unchanged, cold eyes, controlled expression, but inside, everything was unraveling.
The lobby buzzed with quiet conversation.
And then he saw her.
Isabella stood near the front desk, speaking to the door keeper. She wore a simple black dress, clean lines, no jewelry except her ring; his ring.
The sight of it twisted something sharp and aching in his chest.
She turned.
Their eyes met.
The world narrowed.
Her expression shifted, shock first, then something harder. Though hurt is sharpened by pride and pain, she refused to show.
She didn't look away.
Neither did he.
"Mrs. De Luca," the door keeper said nervously, sensing tension. "Your car is ready."
Isabella nodded without breaking eye contact. "Thank you."
She walked past Matteo.
He moved before thought could stop him.
"Isabella."
She halted.
The space between them felt heavier than any argument they'd ever had.
"Yes?" Her voice was calm and controlled, but too controlled for comfort.
"You shouldn't be leaving alone," Matteo said.
A flicker of disbelief crossed her face. "That's interesting."
His voice dropped. "It's not safe."
She laughed once, softly but with all intents and purpose. "Now you're worried?"
"This isn't about feelings."
She turned fully to face him. "Then what is it about, Matteo?" Her eyes burned. " Am I still just something you manage from behind glass, like a puppet on a string?"
People nearby pretended not to listen, but no one fooled anyone.
Matteo clenched his fists. "You know I can't explain everything."
"That's always your answer." Her eyes shone, but she refused to let tears fall. "Do you know what silence feels like from your side of the bed?"
The words struck clean and deep.
He flinched.
"I did what I had to do," he said quietly.
"So did I," she shot back.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Come home."
Her breath caught just at once.
"I am home," she said. "Anywhere you're not."
The words cut deeper than a blade.
"Isabella…"
"Don't." She shook her head. "Don't pull me close today just to push me away tomorrow, I won't survive that again."
Her hand tightened around her bag strap as she looked ready to bolt.
This was the moment.
The one that mattered.
Letting her go.
"Then listen to me," he said. "For once. Keep your guards and also make sure you answer your phone. Never trust anyone offering protection."
Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"Just listen," he repeated.
She searched his face for something he couldn't give her, not now and not even safely.
"I trusted you," she said quietly. "That was my mistake."
She turned and walked away.
The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the air.
Matteo stood there long after she was gone.
A soldier approached quietly. "Boss. Victor Kane's men were spotted near her building."
Matteo's blood went cold.
"How close?" he asked.
"Close enough."
Matteo pulled out his phone, jaw hardening.
Distance kept her alive.
But distance wouldn't save her forever.
And as he stared at the closed doors, one truth cut through everything else…
If Isabella was already slipping from his control, someone else would try to claim her.
And this time, loving her from the shadows might not be enough.
End of Chapter Two.