Isabella
“So it was your idea.” Giovanni looks at me with raised eyebrows, and when I nod, he purses his lips and shakes his head. “God, and I got into an argument with Riccardo over it.”
I huff and look down at Benito, carefully pulling my hair out of his grip. He frowns but, instead of crying, simply reaches to grab another handful of hair. Just as stubborn as his dad, I see.
“Why would you get into an argument with him?” I glance at Giovanni who is grumbling something under his breath, searching through the kitchen drawers.
God, he’s like the dad I never had, and even though most of the time I appreciate it, today is not that day.
“Did you think he wanted to force me to marry De Lugo?”
“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” Giovanni says with a sharp note, glancing at me over his shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to be the one behind it.”
I purse my lips, narrowing my eyes. I don’t like how aggressive he sounds. “And why is that?”
At the same time, Benito lets out a bubbly noise, tapping his palms against my chest, and it distracts me from the growing annoyance. I can’t help but smile when I look at him, rubbing his sides with my thumbs.
Benito is so soft and cute like a teddy bear, with his round cheeks, full lips, and tiny fingers, and I just want to hug him and never let go.
“Is Benito the cutest boy?” I coo at him, and Benito looks up at me with big brown eyes, studying my face with three fingers in his mouth. “Do you recognize Auntie Bella? You know me, don’t you?”
Judging by the look on his face, he’s not sure, but that’s okay. Alina said he knows me, and I trust her. Perhaps, ten years from now, we’ll be
able to find out the truth.
“Because willingly going into an arranged marriage is the dumbest thing a girl can do,” Giovanni mutters from his spot, and all the good and peaceful feelings from looking at Benito disappear in an instant.
Giovanni really knows how to spoil my mood, doesn’t he?
I clench my jaw and look up at him, instinctively tightening my hold on Benito. “Did you just call me dumb?”
“Well, obviously,” he retorts, sounding just as irritated, and I can feel a storm coming, but at this point, I’m willing to step into it. I’ve spent my whole life bickering with this man-or should I call him a boy?
Because it looks like he has never grown up.
“Why don’t you say that to Elena or Sasha, hm? They agreed to marry-”
“Because they had no other choice.” Giovanni turns to me with a glare, his hand gripping the counter with more force than necessary. “They were forced to marry Riccardo and Louis, and they did it to protect their children. Why are you doing it? To grab a powerful husband?”
“To make Gerardo pay for Mom’s death,” I say in a lower voice, looking at him with heartache spreading in my chest. God, I can’t believe that, out of all people, Giovanni would be the one to judge me so harshly.
My words seem to strike something in him because Giovanni breathes out and turns away, leaning on the counter with both hands. He
closes his eyes, gathering himself for a moment, and shakes his head. Oh, I recognize that look on his face. Does he think he knows better than me?
“Isabella,” he starts with a steady voice, clearly forcing himself to keep his emotions under control, and looks at me. “Do you even know what kind of a person Raul Jose De Lugo is?”
I purse my lips, glaring at him without a word. I don’t know everything about De Lugo, but… Goddamnit, does he expect me to be taken aback by the criminal record of a drug lord?
“You don’t, do you?” Giovanni narrows his eyes and turns to face me, leaning against the counter with such a patronizing expression that I have a momentary desire to punch him. “Raul Jose is a cold and ruthless man. He wasn’t born as the don of the cartel-he dug his way to it. How? By killing dozens if not hundreds of people.”
Even though Giovanni’s words send chills down my spine, I sit up straight and look him in the eyes. “So what? Haven’t you killed for the Escarras? That’s how our world works, Gio.”
“Yes? What about his wife, then?” I blink. His wife?
Giovanni catches my confusion because he chuckles coldly and straightens his shoulders. “You’re gonna get married to Raul Jose, and you don’t even know that he let the Escarras kill his wife just to keep his territories in Tijuana?”
I swallow and look down at the floor, feeling my heart tighten at the thought of meeting this man. Is it true? I want to say I don’t believe it-but for a man greedy for power, the life of a loved one costs nothing. Gerardo has proven it time and time again.
“Do you understand now why I don’t want you anywhere near this man?” Giovanni adds a moment later, probably sensing bewilderment in my silence. But even though it sounds like he’s trying to make up, Giovanni’s words only light up something inside of me, and I look up at him with a fiery glare.
“Well, why don’t you come up with a plan that would save us all?
What are you gonna offer the De Lugos, your word of honesty?”
“It’s better than giving up on my whole life to marry a monster!” “Oh, and I should wait for a damn angel to find me, huh? Just
because that’s what happened to you, it doesn’t mean that we-”
“Guys?” Alina peeks into the kitchen with a frown, drying her hair with a towel. “Is everything alright?”
Before anyone can say anything, Benito suddenly bursts out crying, stretching his arms to Alina, and I feel my heart drop. Shit. How could I forget about him? He shouldn’t have to listen to Giovanni and me bickering like two roosters.
“Sorry,” I murmur when Alina rushes to pick him up, but she only smiles at me, shaking her head.
“Don’t worry about it. Benito always gets fussy when he stays in one place, right?” She looks at him, peppering his cheek with kisses despite the throat-tearing cry that he gives her. “I think someone needs a clean diaper, huh? Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”
The last words make me blink out of my thoughts, and I look up only to see Alina smile at me warmly before walking away, swaying Benito in her arms. She lingers by Giovanni to give him a kiss on his cheek and murmurs something, probably asking him not to argue with me. Alina doesn’t like conflicts, and thankfully, conflicts avoid her as well.
But when she leaves, a heavy silence settles in the kitchen, weighing down on my shoulders, ringing in my ears. I really don’t want to stay here anymore, so I get up sharply and walk to the hallway.
“Bella,” I hear Giovanni call me, but I don’t stop until I close the front door behind me. Only then do I linger to breathe out all the anger and hurt bubbling inside me before raising my chin and walking away.
We can talk again when he learns how to trust me.
In the end, Riccardo proceeds with my idea, the De Lugos accept our invitation to discuss the agreement, and just a week later, I step into O’Hare airport with a couple of recruits in tow. The flight from Mexico City flashes on the board of arrivals. Fifteen minutes left. Good enough.
“Check the rest of the airport,” I tell the recruits over my shoulder, putting my hands on my hips and looking around. “I’m gonna make sure the area is clear.”
While the two of them take off with curt nods-yes, ma’am-I walk up and down the arrival area, checking the baggage claim and the temporary parking outside. God, it’s been a while since the last time I was
so wired up and meticulous about checking a piece of neutral territory. The Italians and Russians have been working together in peace, and only a handful of local criminals and the Escarras’ remnants have been bothering us.
But today, I have to make sure that everything goes smoothly. I don’t want to ruin the surprise for Gerardo and let him know that his old friend is in Chicago.
Finally, the lady behind the speakers announces that the flight from Mexico City has landed at O’Hare airport. By then, I’m already in the baggage claim area, looking out for the first passengers from the De Lugos’ flight. I hope they won’t get lost on the way here. Matteo should’ve sent them the instructions, right?
Unable to hold back the nervousness and excitement about what’s to come, I start walking around, picking up my pace with every passing minute. One of the recruits sends me a message, reporting that the airport is clear, and I tell him to wait for us at the parking lot-when I notice some commotion from the corner of my eye.
Of course Raul Jose De Lugo wouldn’t show up without a bunch of his men around him. I can’t blame him. The last thing you need in Chicago is to be vulnerable-but at the same time, not attracting too much attention would also be nice.
If any of the Escarras’ men are here, they’ll report to Gerardo in an instant, and it won’t take him long to figure out who has arrived. After all, Raul is quite striking in his appearance.
It takes me one glance to recognize him in the group of Mexicans confidently walking down the passageway. The aura around their leader is strong and self-possessed, his gray eyes looking around with calm curiosity. Their color especially stands out against his tanned skin, dark hair, and full beard with silver strands that only add allure to his looks. Not that Raul really needs it. Wide shoulders, confident posture, and prominent features- I’m pretty sure he was attractive long before age brought maturity to his looks.
The thought of marrying him doesn’t sound so daunting anymore, and…damn. What am I thinking?
I shake my head and step in the path of the De Lugos, unconsciously straightening my shoulders to appear more confident than I feel at the moment. The one at the front catches my gaze and says something in a low voice to the rest of them before turning to ask Raul something. Ah, come on. Are they gonna doubt me?
All of a sudden, Raul looks right into my eyes and I freeze in my spot, feeling like a doe caught in the gaze of a wolf. My whole body tenses up from the wave that his gaze sends through my muscles, but at the same time I feel warmth smoldering in the pit of my stomach. I swallow and clench my fists, forcing myself to hold his gaze until Raul looks away, releasing me from his spell.
Goddamnit. I look down and breathe out, my heart fluttering like crazy in my chest. What was that?
“Isabella?”
I immediately look up and see the same man at the front addressing me. The De Lugos’ group consists of five guards that seem to hold their formation even as they stop and look around. As unbothered as ever, Raul just glances at me before saying something to one of his men. What, am I not important enough for him to talk to me directly?
“Yes,” I say, straightening and pulling myself together. Stop this childish petulance, Isabella. It’s not the time to get snarky, so I even try to smile at them. “Welcome to Chicago.”
The man looks unimpressed, and I let the corners of my lips drop down, gaining my usual serious expression. The smile felt stupid anyway.
“Are you ready to leave?” I look between all six of them before my gaze lingers on Raul. As if feeling it, he looks at me, quirks an eyebrow- and I feel the same tightness in my guts. Shit. But I force myself to hold his gaze even with warmth rising up my neck until Raul turns to the guy at the front.
“Tell her we’re ready,” he says in Spanish as if I can’t understand it, and his voice turns out to be as mature and powerful as the rest of him.
Wouldn’t it be fun to impress him?
Before his man translates, I nod and respond in the same tone in Spanish, “Very well.”
It finally pulls Raul’s attention to me, and he turns to look at me with curiosity. “Do you know Spanish?”
“Yes.”
I can’t help but smile a little. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel proud. Who knows, maybe we’ll be able to get along after-
“Don’t you know your manners?” Raul says with a suddenly cold tone, and I feel the satisfaction deflate into confusion and annoyance in my chest.
“What?”
“I gave you some slack as you seemed to be too American to understand me.”
I clench my jaw, holding his gaze. Too American? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“But seeing that you know enough to address me directly…” Raul’s voice suddenly drops low, and the look in his eyes turns cold. “Who do you think you are, girl, to talk to us without due respect? Is that how the Messinas treat their allies?”