Chapter 18 - The Conditions|
Isabella reached out, her fingers brushing against his warm palm, but she didn't pick up the ring.
"If I put this ring back on, Dante," she said, her voice dropping into a firm, non-negotiable tone, "things change."
Dante didn't flinch. "Name your terms."
"First," Isabella stated, looking him dead in the eye, "I take full, independent control of the Moretti real estate portfolio and charitable trusts. No interference from your captains, no oversight from Uncle Sal. I answer only to myself."
Dante nodded immediately. "Done. Marco will act as your private security chief."
"Second," she continued, "the next time your family accuses me of anything... you don't stand in the middle, Dante. You don't play the impartial judge. You stand in front of me."
A faint, painful smile touched Dante’s lips. "I swore to myself on Mulberry Street today that I will never step away from your side again. Done."
"And third," Isabella said, her voice softening slightly, "we don't get married in this estate. We get married in my grandfather's church in Little Italy. With my father's friends, my neighbors, and simple white roses."
Dante looked at her, his eyes shining with a deep, fierce devotion.
"We can get married on a boat in the middle of the ocean if that's what you want, Isabella," he whispered.
Isabella looked at the diamond ring resting on his palm. Slowly, deliberately, she picked it up, sliding it over her knuckle until it rested perfectly back on her left ring finger.
Dante let out a long, ragged breath, stepping forward and pulling her tightly into his broad chest, burying his face in her dark hair as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
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Isabella held him back, feeling the steady, powerful thud of his heart against her cheek.
The ring felt warm against her skin again—not as a symbol of his family’s authority, but as a testament to her own strength.
