Page 68 of The Beast's Broken Beauty

I take a deep breath, drawing strength from Naomi's presence. The scent of wine and tension fills my nostrils, grounding me in this moment. "Then let's start with the truth," I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "All of it. No more games, no more half-truths I’ve had my share of those and of lies."

Stefanos lets out a hard chuckle, the sound grating against my nerves. "Yes, maybe we should tell Isabella the truth. Tell her that—"

"Stefanos," Alexandros cuts him off, his voice sharp as a whip crack. The younger Greek brother falls silent, but the smirk dancing on his lips sends a chill down my spine.

Antonio steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest. I see him in the phone camera, glowering, tall and ready to be the Beast he is to make sure I'm safe. And that? Despite the anger still settled deep within, it has me take a calmer breath. An annoyed breath. But a calmer one.

"There could be... complications," Alexandros says, sounding like each word is being dragged out of him.

"Complications?" I repeat, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "My entire life has been one big complication. Try me."

The room falls silent again, the tension ratcheting up another notch. I can hear the tick of the ornate clock on the mantel, each second stretching into eternity. My mother coughs again, the sound rattling through the speakers, and I feel a pang of worry shoot through me.

But when she speaks, her voice is clearer, stronger than before. "Darling, it's not that simple."

There's something in her tone – a hint of steel beneath the frailty – that makes me pause. I've heard that tone before,years ago, when she was negotiating with my dance instructors or smoothing over one of my father's business "disagreements". Ones I didn’t understand then.

Antonio's hand finds my shoulder, a gesture both possessive and supportive. I can feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of my dress, sending a shiver down my spine.

“We need to...”

"Don't," I tell him, turning back and boring my gaze into his dark, thunderous one. "You took away enough of my choices. Don't swoop in right now and go all Antonio on this. I need to know the truth. I'm asking the questions."

Turning back to the room, I straighten my spine, lifting my chin. My nails dig into my palms, the sharp pain keeping me focused. "I'm done with manipulations. If you want my help, if you want my trust, then you need to start talking. Now. All of it."

Alexandros exchanges a loaded glance with Nikos before leaning forward. "Isabella, what do you remember about your treatment? The new procedures they used?" His voice is deep and the way he's watching me? It's filled with something I can't quite name but that has my breath catching. Like he cares?

But his question catches me off guard, memories of sterile hospital rooms and endless needles flashing through my mind. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," my mother's voice crackles through the speaker, stronger now. "It could change everything."

As I open my mouth to respond, I catch my mother's reflection in the phone screen. Her eyes are sharp, alert, nothing like the frail woman I first saw. And I realize – whatever game is being played here, my mother is holding cards she hasn't revealed yet.

"Why don't you tell me?" I say, my voice steady. "Since it seems you all know more about my medical history than I do."

Because in this world of shadows and deceit, knowledge is power. And I'm done being powerless.

"Your blood could save your mother," Alexandros says, his voice as unyielding as steel.

The words hit me like a missed landing from a grand pas de deux, my body tensing as if bracing for impact, my breath catching in my throat as if I'd been dropped mid-lift into a crater. My vision narrows, the room spinning around me as I struggle to process what I've just heard..

I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips, each pulse a reminder of the blood flowing through my veins. Blood that could apparently save my mother. The mother I thought I'd lost forever.

"The fuck?" Antonio growls beside me, his voice seeming to come from far away. He adds something in rapid-fire Italian, the words blurring together in my stunned state.

Naomi's voice cuts through the fog in my mind, sharp and clear. "The Beast and I are in agreement here: the fuck?"

But I can't look away from the screen, from my mother's face. Her eyes, so like mine, hold a mixture of hope and fear that makes my chest ache. A memory surfaces, vivid and painful: her arguing with my father, his cold voice saying she wasn't preparing me for life.

I thought he meant dancing. The realization of my naivety settles in my stomach like a lead weight.

Now I know he meant this life. This very moment, where the mafia surrounds us like a suffocating blanket. Where blood isn't just DNA, but currency, power, life itself.

My mouth is dry, tongue sticking to the roof as I force out the words: "Why didn't you say it right away?"

"That's your question?" Naomi whispers next me. "If you only get one... maybe you could ask why, how, when? Or better, Are you a mutant? Are we in a remake of X-Men?"

I shake my head. "No. Why didn't you tell me right away I could save you?"

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