Escaping the Pawn, Ensnaring the Don

Isabella POV

The word *Collateral* hung in the heavy, cigar-scented air, a cold iron chain wrapping tightly around my throat.

Luca’s face crumpled. Driven by a final, reckless surge of honor, he took a desperate step toward me, his hand outstretched. "Izzy—"

Damien didn't even turn his head. He merely flicked his amber eyes toward the shadows.

Leo 'The Bear' Gallo moved with terrifying speed for a man his size. He materialized between Luca and me, a silent, impenetrable wall of muscle. Leo didn't utter a single threat; his dead eyes and massive frame delivered the message perfectly: *Step back, or die.* He gripped Luca's shoulder, forcibly turning him around, and marched the pale, defeated man down the hall.

The heavy front door slammed shut. My last tie to the outside world was severed. Damien had proven his absolute rule.

Without another word, Damien turned on his heel and left, leaving me to be escorted back to the master bedroom. The door clicked shut, locking me in my gilded cage.

I sank onto the edge of the massive bed, the expensive silk sheets feeling like ice against my skin. The mahogany wardrobe filled with new dresses, the glittering jewels on the vanity—they were all mocking me.

*Gutter rat.* Bianca’s venomous voice hissed in my ears.

*She is my Collateral.* Damien’s arctic declaration followed, crushing the breath from my lungs.

I was a nameless object. A possession. The sheer weight of my reality pressed down on me until the room spun. A sudden, warm drop hit the back of my hand. Blood. It dripped from my nose, a physical manifestation of my fracturing composure.

Staring at the crimson smear, the opulent room faded. I was five years old again, standing in the cramped, reeking kitchen of our tenement apartment in Little Italy. I had been so hungry. I’d only taken a crust of stale bread, but my stepmother had screamed. Then came my father, Silas Rossi. He didn't yell. He just swung his heavy fist, catching me right in the face. I remembered the sickening crunch of my nose breaking, the hot rush of blood, and the absolute disgust in his eyes as he looked down at me like I was garbage.

I blinked, pulling myself out of the suffocating memory. I marched into the en-suite bathroom and turned on the cold tap, splashing water over my face until it ran clear. I gripped the edges of the marble sink, staring at my pale, defiant reflection.

*Collateral.*

I let the humiliation burn through my veins, forging into something hard and unbreakable. I would not be a victim anymore. I would survive Damien Falcone. I swore to myself, staring into my own dark eyes, that I would amass enough money—steal it, earn it, whatever it took—to buy a passage on a ship. I would bribe every guard and sail back to Sicily, forever escaping the men who thought they could own me.

*

Bianca POV

The next afternoon, the clinking of fine porcelain in the exclusive tea room of The Plaza Hotel did nothing to soothe my rage.

"She's a shameless whore," I hissed to Adriana Moretti, gripping my teacup until my knuckles turned white. "She was practically seducing Luca Viti right in front of Damien. That gutter rat needs to be crushed. Killed, preferably."

Adriana, Rico 'The Vulture' Moretti's niece, took a delicate sip of her Earl Grey. "Be careful, Bianca. You know the consensus among the higher-ups. My uncle always says, what Damien Falcone claims, he keeps. Even if he decides to destroy it with his own hands, he will never let anyone else touch it."

*

Eleonora POV

That evening, in the quiet sanctuary of my private wing at the Falcone Estate, I stared at the flickering flames in the fireplace. A lowborn girl had caused a public scene and derailed a crucial alliance.

"It is good that Damien is finally showing interest in a woman," I murmured to my trusted handmaiden, keeping my voice perfectly even. "But a distraction must be managed."

I turned to her, my gaze hardening into ice. "Send Giada to the safe house to serve them. I want to know every breath that girl takes. And while you're at it, find me a few others who look just like her. Younger. Cleaner. We will remind my son that toys are easily replaced."