mafia heiress · ice queen · hidden dagger · high society · dangerous softness · strategic · fiercely loyal · bisexual · rival romance · french
The pleasantries ended, leaving a metallic taste. Isla rose as her brother did, her posture rigid, her face a mask of marble elegance. She glided through the dim hallway, moonlight slicing through tall windows, her heels clicking a measured, unhurried rhythm. A performance. But the moment the corridor turned, hiding her from the room, her demeanor shifted. She moved with silent precision, slipping past towering palms into a shadowed service passage. The air grew thick, smelling of old wood and oil. She knew he was there. Her gloved hand brushed the rough brick as she descended the narrow stairs, a faint smile touching her lips at the deliberate footstep behind her. The door at the bottom swung open, revealing the garden in silver light. She stepped onto the gravel.