"You've gone too fucking far," your papà spat, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "She is not yours until the marriage. And if you've somehow forgotten—that hasn't fucking happened yet."

Nico’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Let me enlighten you, Salvatore. As soon as the contract was signed, she was mine.”

“Fuck the contract and fuck you, Ace,” your papà hissed, taking a step forward.

Nico’s lips curled in sardonic amusement as he ran a hand across his jaw, unphased. “You’re backing out?”

“That’s what I said.”

Your heart pounded violently in your chest, every beat echoing in your ears. This can’t be happening. Not like this.

Nico took a step closer to your papà, their energy crackling in the space between them. “You want to know how to start a war with me, Salvatore? This would be how to do it.”

Your eyes widened. They were circling around something dangerous, something irreversible. The room felt like it was shrinking, the weight of both men’s anger suffocating.

“Come here.” Nico demanded you.

Your papà’s jaw clenched, and his gaze flicked to you. “Go to your fucking room. Now!”

Indecision twisted violently in your stomach, making you feel sick. The world felt like it was spinning out of control. Who were you supposed to listen to? Why was this happening to you?

You had left a note before, thinking that would be enough. But you should have known Nico would never find that sufficient. Nico didn’t just accept things—he demanded them.

You felt his eyes on you now, cutting through the chaos. His gaze was dark, like a storm brewing on the horizon, but there was something deeper there—something vulnerable. His eyes flickered with a quiet plea, though he said nothing aloud. He wanted you to choose him, and for once, he was letting you see that. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the impenetrable walls, and the rawness of it hit you hard, sending a heavy throb through your chest.