ISABELLA
The moment I stepped into the main hall, the world shifted. Music drifted through the air — soft strings warming up, the kind that made the room feel alive even before the guests filled it. The chandeliers glowed like constellations overhead, scattering gold across the marble floors. Staff moved with quiet urgency, adjusting last‑minute details. The scent of roses and polished wood lingered in the air.
And everywhere — everywhere — were Salvatore men. Stationed at the doors. Along the balconies. Near the bar. By the stage. Their presence was subtle but unmistakable. A silent message: No one touches her or gets close. Adrian wasn’t here yet, but his shadow was. Tobias walked half a step behind me, his expression unreadable. I still didn’t know how much he saw earlier with Danie
