Isabella had spent the last month immersed in the world of Dominic and his clan. She had attended countless meetings, trained rigorously with Dominic and his men, and met with new groups to ensure their protection. She had become an integral part of their operations, and her fierce determination and intelligence earned their respect.
Now, sitting on the windowsill of her room, Isabella gazed out at the grounds. Today was her birthday, but she had told no one. She had assumed her father would have mentioned it to Dominic, but there had been no sign of recognition from anyone. The day felt like any other, marked only by the persistent ache of her scar. She ran her hand over the pink line that marred her face, a constant reminder of Russo's cruelty.
Her thoughts were interrupted by t……
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