---- Isabella's presence had been erased. Yet, as Claire looked around the lavish cage with wide, innocent eyes, like a startled fawn, Vincent felt a flicker of something he couldn't name. Emptiness. "This... is your home?" Claire carefully traced the words in his palm. Her eyes were full of wonder and a subtle fear. It fed his dark, possessive nature.
He wrapped an arm around her slim waist and announced to the waiting servants, his voice booming: "From this day forward, she is the mistress of this house. Her word is law." "Yes, Don." The butler looked like he wanted to say something, but Vincent's cold stare pinned him in place. Vincent's world began to revolve around Claire. He broke all his habits, spending less time in the ---- interrogation rooms and underground casinos, moving most of his business to the estate.
Asingle look from Claire was all it took for him to grant her every wish. He announced her as his "fiancée" to the entire Chicago underworld. He even openly paved the way for Claire and her South Side family. The cold-blooded king who once had a traitor skinned alive was, for the first time, bowing toa woman. It wasn't until two months later. Asummit with the Five Families of New York was scheduled in Las Vegas. That's when Vincent suddenly remembered Isabella.
The shadow who used to navigate all the dirty deals and fake pleasantries for him, flawlessly. On instinct, he dialed Isabella's number. ---- The only response was a cold, mechanical voice: '"The number you have dialed is no longer in service..." Vincent's face darkened instantly. "Fine, Isabella Romano," he snarled under his breath. "Play your little games." He ordered his men to the West Side villa to grab her. The report came back: the villa was empty, covered in dust.
Isabella had never set foot there. "Impossible!" Vincent smashed his glass, sending shards flying. "Find her! How dare she disappear from my city?" His rage woke Claire from her nap. She rushed downstairs in a silk nightgown, barefoot, and wrote worriedly in his palm: "What's wrong?" As Claire's bright, innocent eyes searched his, Vincent felt a flash of irritation. ---- Isabella was a weapon he had carefully honed, a venomous snake who could move effortlessly through a swamp of blood and lies.
For all her purity, Claire was a dove. For this summit, he needed a vipe. He needed Isabella. "Family business," he said brusquely, pulling away from her touch. And for the first time, he left her behind. But he tore the city apart and found nothing.