Page 70 of The Beast's Broken Beauty

"Protect me?" I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. "By faking your death? By letting me think I was alone all these years?"

My mother's eyes fill with tears. "I failed you, my love. I thought I could shield you from this life, but I was wrong. And now..." She breaks off, coughing violently.

Alexandros leans forward, his voice low. "Your mother holds information that could destroy empires, Isabella. Information that could reshape the underworld as we know it. If she dies without passing it on..."

"It gets released anyway," my mother finishes, her voice ragged. "To every major player in our world. It's my insurance policy. I know better than to believe in happily-ever-afters."

The realization hits me like a tidal wave. My mother, even on her deathbed, wields a power that makes these hardened men tremble. She's been playing a long game, one I can barely comprehend.

"And my blood?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel. "How does that fit into all this?"

"It could save me," she says softly. "Give me time to set things right. To protect you properly this time. The doctors used a new immunotherapy with you and since you and I were already a match, the way your blood now works could save me."

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. This woman, who I've mourned for years, who's apparently been pulling strings from the shadows all this time... she's still my mother. The one who used to bandage my scraped knees after dance practice, who sang me to sleep on stormy nights.

"I don't know if I can trust you," I say, opening my eyes to meet her gaze.

My mother's face contorts with pain. "Isabella, my darling," she begins, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know I've hurt you. I know I've made mistakes. When I heard about what your father was planning... I tried to stop it. I leaked information to Antonio's mother, thinking she could help. But it backfired, horribly. I never meant for her to die, for you to suffer like that."

She pauses, taking a shaky breath. "Do you remember the lullaby I used to sing to you? About the little bird learning to fly?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut. I nod, not trusting my voice.

"That's what I've been trying to do all these years. To give you wings strong enough to fly away from all of this. I failed, and I'm so sorry for that. But if you help me now, I swear to you, I'll use every bit of information I have, every secret I've kept, to set you free."

Her eyes lock onto mine, intense despite her weakened state. "I have information that could protect Antonio, that could ensure Elena's safety. I know things about your father's plans, about the other families. Information that could change everything."

As she speaks, a realization dawns on me. Saving her might be my only chance to get the full truth, to understand the web I've been caught in all these years. It might be the key to protecting not just myself, but Antonio, Elena, and everyone else I care about.

"If you help me now," my mother continues, "I promise I'll give you everything. All the knowledge, all the power I've accumulated. You'll have what you need to protect yourself and those you love."

Her words hang in the air, heavy with promise and the weight of years lost. I feel torn, caught between the hurt of abandonment and the fierce love I still feel for her. But more than that, I feel the weight of possibility - the chance to finally take control of my own destiny.

I feel Antonio's hand grip my thigh, his fingers digging in almost painfully. "Don't," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes, when they meet mine, are dark with warning. "Isabella, this isn't-"

But I cut him off, placing my hand over his. "I need to do this," I say softly, holding his gaze. For a moment, I see a flicker of something - concern? fear? - in his eyes before The Beast reasserts itself.

He leans back, his jaw clenched and I know this isn’t the end of this discussion. I can feel the tension radiating off him, his disapproval clear in every line of his body. But he doesn't stop me. At least, not now.

I turn back to the screen, to my mother's expectant face. "What do I need to do?" I ask, my voice ringing clear in the tension-filled room.

Chapter forty-two

Antonio

IfanyoneeverdoubtedI had self-control, they should see me right now.

Fucking Hercules has nothing on me. Fucking Hades can go back to his underworld. I force myself to stay still, to let Alexandros spew his bullshit about how Isabella needs to go to Greece for the procedure. How it’s similar to the autologous transplant she’s had before and that like the transplant she had, they’ll get what they need through her blood. If they don’t, they might need to get into her bone marrow.

At those words, she pales and shivers and part of me wants to take the phone and throw it on the wall.

“We have the best doctors on standby over in Santorini,” he adds as Isabella’s mother nods.

As if I'd let my wife leave this fortress, riding off into the sunset with these Greek fuckers. What do they think this is, some kind of mythological fairy tale?

I know the Greek myths came before our Roman ones, but we've got our own legends, our own gods of war and vengeance. And right now, I'm embodying every fucking one of them.

Naomi catches my eye, her gaze sharp and knowing. She sees the storm brewing inside me, the rage I'm barely keeping in check. For once, it seems like we're on the same page.

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