Raul
As soon as Ruben drives Isabella away, I stop in my tracks and breathe out. God, what was that? Why did she kiss me with so much passion? And why the hell am I still thinking about it?
I lick my lips, and maybe it’s just a figment of my imagination, but I can taste the sweetish note of her lipstick. Why do I care? Even if Isabella is my wife now, I’m not interested in her. I’m not attracted to her, okay? But the tightness in my chest and the sweet tug at the pit of my stomach when I remember our kiss at the altar make me question my own sanity.
I shake my head and straighten up, looking at the gathering by the doors of the ceremony hall. It doesn’t matter. I’m probably just affected by the atmosphere of the wedding and the memories of Mariana that it brings up in me. It has nothing to do with my actual feelings for Isabella-because there are no feelings between us.
This whole wedding is just a very elaborate way to sign a deal between the De Lugos and the Messinas.
Besides, I’m sure Isabella didn’t want to kiss me like that. She wanted to prove something. That I can be affected by her passion? That she has any kind of power over me? I chuckle and push my hands into my pockets, glancing at the road where Ruben’s car has already disappeared.
Well, I’m not gonna play by her rules-so instead of walking to my car, I turn to the crowd of guests.
“Do we have a deal now?” I say, walking to Riccardo and Elena from behind.
They both turn to me at the same time, slightly startled, with their son between them. He’s probably ten, no more, with his mother’s face and his father’s eyes that look up at me with awe and curiosity. I give him a small smile, involuntarily thinking about the kids Mariana and I never had. Would it be possible to have them with-
“Yes, of course.” Riccardo’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts just in time, and I look at him, hiding my inner turmoil behind a cold mask.
Riccardo and Elena are just as good at hiding their emotions-that much I’ve already gathered so they look at me with a similar polite
expression that shows nothing of their true thoughts. He even smiles at me, holding out his hand for a handshake, and I take it with a calm smile and a nod.
“Shall we discuss our next steps, then?” I ask. From the corner of my eye, I see Elena’s gaze dart somewhere behind me. Is she looking for Isabella? Ah, I believe my wife will not be able to join us right now. She needs a good lesson on how to keep herself in line.
Riccardo seems to be taken aback by my suggestion as well, but eventually he shrugs it off and nods. “Sure. Would you like to come to our house? It’s more suitable for our conversation.”
Judging by the slight frown that creeps into Elena’s features, she’s not entirely happy with the idea, but she says nothing, turning her attention to Maxim tugging at her sleeves. I wonder if he’s gonna ask her about me.
“Of course. Should I follow your car?”
After a short description of the route to Riccardo’s house, I give a sign to my men to return to the hotel, get into my car, and wait for him- and a few others from his family-to turn on their car lights. But in the quiet of my car, my thoughts drift away. Has Ruben reached the house already? Is Isabella there all alone? Something unpleasant squeezes the middle of my chest, but I ignore it. I’m not gonna be there all the time, Isabella has to get used to it.
Finally, some ten minutes later, we leave the prestigious wedding venue behind, and I follow three black cars through the streets of Chicago.
By now I’ve already gotten used to the city, and the dim lights and dark streets don’t seem so hostile anymore. Chicago is still too cold and boring for my taste, but I can survive here for a few months before everything is over.
And then? I frown, staring at the road through the windshield as my thoughts dart to Isabella. And then, I am going to leave it all behind-but if she decides to join me, I won’t mind it.
When we arrive at Riccardo’s mansion, I see that the ones who have joined him are Matteo, his oldest cousin, and Giovanni. The latter gives me a weird glare when I walk past him to the front door, and I quirk an eyebrow. Is it because of Isabella? Probably. But she’s mine now, and even if he’s her brother, Giovanni has nothing to do with our life anymore.
“Would you like a drink?” Riccardo offers, guiding me to the second floor of his mansion while Elena lingers in the living room to talk to their babysitter.
“Whiskey with a splash of water.”
“Just water for me, thanks,” Matteo says from behind me while Giovanni remains quiet. Still grumpy, huh?
Upstairs, Riccardo takes us to what I assume is his cabinet, and we spend the next half an hour there, going over the details of the next operation. We need time to arrange everything for the arrival of my men, so right now all we have is the handful of guards I brought with me on the first day. But at the same time, they are the most trusted and experienced members of the De Lugo cartel, so I trust them to see through any of my tasks-I only need directions as to where to send them.
Soon enough, the Messinas and I outline our actions for the next few days: send scouts into the old Escarra territories, keep an eye out for any rumors or messages about their appearance, and start training my men to get them accustomed to Chicago’s street rules. It seems like a solid plan that
should keep me busy enough to stay away from Isabella, and I feel satisfied when I finally leave Riccardo’s mansion.
Well, it looks like a good time to head home and see if our princess is.
“Hey, Raul,” I hear behind me, and all of a sudden someone grabs my shoulder and sharply tugs me back.
I act on instinct when I elbow the attacker in the ribs and aim for his face, but he grabs my wrist before I can do anything-and only in that moment of clarity do I realize that it’s Giovanni. What the fuck?
“What’s wrong with you?” I frown, tugging my wrist out of his grip and stepping back to dust off my shoulders. Goddamnit. Has he lost his mind?
“No, what’s wrong with you?” Giovanni growls back at me. But at least he doesn’t try to assault me anymore. That bruise on his ribs will make him think twice next time. “I saw you sending Isabella away. Do you think you’re so important now that you can treat her like one of your fucking puppets? She should be here-or you should be with her.”
With the last words, Giovanni points his finger at me, narrowing his eyes with anger.
“You are responsible for her safety now,” he continues before I can say anything. “And I swear to god, if even a single hair falls off her head because of you, I will kill you.”
His voice is too low and grave for it to be an empty promise, and I straighten up despite myself, instinctively reacting to a threat with an urge to spit back.
“Your family depends on me.” I quirk an eyebrow, looking straight into his eyes. “Do you think you have any right to speak to me like that?”
At the same time, Matteo walks out of the house, and I see him linger by the door, looking at us before calling out, “Giovanni?”
“I don’t care about the deal,” Giovanni spits out, ignoring his cousin. “We’d be able to deal with the Escarras without you.”
“It doesn’t look like Riccardo shares the sentiment,” I say with a chuckle and turn away to my car. There’s nothing for me to talk about with someone like him.
By the time I get to my house-or our house, I guess-it’s almost midnight. The sky is covered with clouds, but the pale light of the moon
still makes it through the thick veil. When I get out of the car, I see that the light in the kitchen is on, but the rooms on the first floor seem empty. It’s what I wanted, isn’t it? Why don’t I feel satisfied, then?