Raul
The memories of Isabella’s hot caramel skin and dark eyes full of desire resurface in my mind for what feels like the hundredth time this
evening, and I shake my head and lean back in my chair. Goddamnit. Who would’ve thought having sex with Isabella would affect me like this?
The pleasant heaviness of postcoital euphoria still lingers deep in my bones, and I can’t find it in myself to let it go. My focus keeps drifting away from the maps and messages I receive from my men and the Messinas, and all I can think about is Isabella. Her deep moans, her pliant body, the pure ecstasy on her face when she reached her orgasm…
I press my fingertips against my eyes in an attempt to get the image out of my mind, but it only makes it worse. The warmth of arousal spreads through my body, and a part of me wants to go find her. The same part that’s been longing for Isabella ever since she pushed me off of her and walked out of my bedroom, cursing under her breath.
Was having sex a mistake? Maybe.
I didn’t plan to get that close to her-but damn, it was too good to resist. Just thinking about the bare skin of her thighs under my palms makes them prickle. I rub my fingers despite myself before turning my chair to the window where the dark evening is slowly descending upon Chicago.
Even if I didn’t plan for it to happen, even if it was a mistake, I enjoyed it, and I know that Isabella did too-if her moans are anything to go by. Why would we hold ourselves back? Why would we pretend like there’s no sexual tension between us?
I mindlessly rub the stubble beneath my chin with my thoughts drifting all over the place when my phone suddenly lights up with an incoming call. Riccardo. I frown and pick it up. And what does he want?
“Yes?”
“Hey. I heard about what happened today,” Riccardo says with a rather tense voice, going straight to the point. I hum to myself. Is he mad because of me or Isabella? “And I think it’s time to clear some things up.”
Interesting. He sounds rather pissed off, but I still can’t grasp the reason behind it, so I just wait for him to continue.
“We have signed a deal to work together against the Escarras.
Neither you nor your men know the territories well enough to judge our decisions. So why the hell did you sabotage our mission and let Gerardo run away?”
I blink, barely hiding my confusion, and ask cautiously, “What do you mean?”
“Isabella gave your men clear instructions to check Loyola Beach and stop the Escarras from escaping,” Riccardo explains with a surprising amount of patience for someone so clearly irritated. “But you called them back even before they got there, and do you know what? We found their traces at this exact goddamn beach.”
Oh.
“What were they doing there?” I ask with a frown, completely ignoring the accusation in Riccardo’s voice.
“They had a big fishing boat tied to the shore, and a local fisherman told Louis he’d seen them sail away.”
Shit. I turn back to the desk, drumming my fingers against the armrest. So we almost had the Escarras, huh? Maybe I should’ve waited for Isabella’s explanation…but it’s not like I’m gonna admit that I’ve made a mistake. She had no right to give my men orders, after all.
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” I say after a pause, and Riccardo chuckles bitterly.
“It really is,” Riccardo grumbles, but he doesn’t sound as frustrated anymore. He sighs a moment later, and I can imagine him shaking his head. The whole thing is rather unpleasant, I have to admit. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Isabella, but you should understand what a valuable asset she is. Isabella spent over ten years by Gerardo’s side-she knows him better than anyone.”
Oh, really? I hum and glance at the door behind which, somewhere in the house, Isabella is avoiding me. I didn’t know about her closeness
with the Escarras. Perhaps it does change my perspective a little-but not enough to change my mind and accept her as my equal. Even if she is my wife, she’s not a De Lugo by heart, and I have no intention to let her rule over my cartel.
Isabella and I kind of stay away from each other for the rest of the day-I’m not even sure if she’s at home when I go to sleep-but the next morning we end up in the kitchen at the same time again. Isabella pretends to ignore me-again-and I can’t help but smirk when I turn away from the coffee machine and look at her.
Damn, why does it feel like she’s gotten even more attractive since yesterday?
“You never told me you used to live with Gerardo,” I say, just to disturb the silence Isabella is keeping around herself like a shield.
She huffs and glances at me with a sour look. “Why would I? It’s not like we’re anything but a husband and wife.”
Isabella says the last words with clear sarcasm in her voice, giving me a pointed glare before turning away, and I chuckle. I like how easy it is to get her heated, and I feel the warmth of satisfaction spread through my body. Her fiery attitude only makes me want to taunt her again and again- and you know what, I don’t see why I should hold myself back.
“If you’re too shy to admit that you’re Gerardo’s niece, you can say so,” I say as casually as possible. Then I shrug, turning away. At the same time, I hear the scratch of Isabella’s stool against the floor and smile. So easy.
“I’m not…shy,” she spits out with disgust. “But my relationship with Gerardo or anyone else is none of your business.”
“You were the one talking about the importance of family.”
“God, do you always turn what people tell you upside down?” “No, but you’re special.”
Isabella growls under her breath, glaring at me from her place behind the counter, and I can’t help but smirk. It gives me some kind of
wicked pleasure to see her so riled up, blush on her cheeks, fire in her eyes. What a woman, huh? The trickle of arousal grows with every passing moment, and if I could grab her shoulders, hold her against the counter, and have my way with her-
“Oh, am I?” Isabella says with a chuckle, quirking an eyebrow and hiding her temper behind a cold mask all of a sudden. “What a privilege! Is the almighty Raul Jose de Lugo ready to lose his mind after a hookup?”
Her words send a wave of icy anger down my spine, and I clench my jaw. What?
We keep bickering like that for a few more minutes before simultaneously walking away-only to continue the next morning. I don’t know what it is in the air between us that makes me lose my cool in Isabella’s presence, but whenever we cross paths, it ends up with another series of mocking and taunting.
The dark look in her eyes ignites something deep inside of me, and I feel myself getting pulled to her again and again. The memories of our hookup, as she calls it, haunt me every night, keeping me hot and sweaty
even in the cool of the air conditioner, and by the time I see Isabella in the kitchen, I’m all wired up to get her attention.
Our relationship is the complete opposite of the deep and caring kind of love that I shared with Mariana, but I don’t mind it. I never
expected to find another woman like her, and the kind of fire that Isabella sets up in me is not the same… Is it meant to burn just as brightly?
“Trying to come up with a genius plan that will put you at the top of the world?”
Isabella’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I blink and mindlessly retort, “I’m already there.”
She huffs, walking past me to the fridge, while I focus on the laptop in front of me. I mean, Isabella is not that far from the truth-I am trying to come up with a genius plan to lay a trap. Not for the world, though, but for Gerardo who has been spotted around Lincoln Square a couple of times.
Why not send a couple of patrols there, find Gerardo’s location, surround him, and-
“You can’t do anything there, you know that, right?” Isabella says from behind me, and I startle and glance at her over my shoulder. She’s holding a cup of her favorite yogurt with a spoon between her lips, and her gaze is focused on the laptop screen. Goddamnit, why do I want her even now?
“Why not?” I grumble, turning away, and Isabella leans even closer and points at Lincoln Square over my shoulder.
“It’s neutral territory. You’re not allowed to spill blood there.”
What? I frown in confusion and look at the neighborhood before turning to Isabella. “Why?”
She shrugs, meeting my gaze for a moment. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I catch a hint of blush on her cheeks. She lingers next to me, almost leaning on my shoulder, before something clicks in her eyes and she pulls back, digging a spoonful of yogurt from the cup.
“It’s the law of Chicago.” Isabella looks at me and smirks, gaining her usual challenging demeanor back. “What, you didn’t know that? It looks like you’re not the smartest guy in this city, after all.”
I huff, turning back to the laptop, but after Isabella walks away with a satisfied chuckle on her lips, I find myself smiling.
Later that day, Matteo confirms Isabella’s words, explaining to me that we can’t lay a trap in neutral territory as it would go against the rules of the Mafia world, and I can only nod with a thoughtful hum on my lips.
Would it be easier if I asked Isabella right away? I shake my head, glancing at the darkness behind the window. Perhaps Riccardo was right. I still have a lot to learn from her.
I don’t know why or when exactly it happens, but about a week later, as I’m drinking coffee and watching Isabella pour milk into her cereal, I realize that our morning banter has changed. Instead of being filled with venom and hurtful comments, these days we share the kitchen space with just a few teasing jabs that make us chuckle rather than raise our voices-
and I like it.