We’re getting familiar with each other like…like an actual couple. I huff, but why hide the truth? It looks like it, even though we’ve barely touched each other since that time in my bedroom. God, it’s been what, two weeks now?
“What?” Isabella says all of a sudden, and I look up at her. She’s looking at me with suspicion, leaning on the kitchen counter with her hands, her pretty fingers spread against the artificial marble.
“What?” I repeat in confusion, tilting my head.
“You look…I don’t know, happy?” Isabella frowns and shakes her head, taking the bowl to the counter to sit as far from me as possible. The oversized pajama shirt and a messy bun of dark curly hair don’t help her to look more intimidating. “It’s weird.”
Happy? I chuckle, and she gives me a glare. No matter how much she wants to look annoyed or weirded out, it doesn’t work. I see that she’s comfortable being here with me, and for some reason, it makes my chest warm.
“There again,” she says with a petulant note, and this time I laugh out loud.
“I didn’t know it’s forbidden to be happy in this house.”
“I just don’t understand why,” Isabella grumbles under her breath, and my gaze lingers on her. Exactly. Why?
She pointedly ignores me for the rest of the morning, but it’s not as cold as it used to be. It feels more like a child being mad at me for not
explaining something, and I only feel a weird kind of fondness when I see her turn away from me as I approach her by the sink. The difference in our ages is so clear now, but it only makes things that much more fun.
Soon enough, Isabella goes upstairs to change her clothes, brush her hair, do her makeup, and do whatever else girls do to look pretty for the rest of the world before heading out of the house. She only glances at me on her way out, our eyes meeting for a moment. But out of unspoken tradition, Isabella says nothing and leaves without a single word.
Where does she go every day?
I purse my lips, watching her drive away through the kitchen window. I’ve been thinking about it recently. Isabella often disappears in the middle of the day or stays somewhere until midnight, and while at first I thought she was spending time with her brother so as to not come back home, it doesn’t feel right anymore.
She’s the kind of a woman who would easily put herself in trouble.
Riccardo has mentioned to me that Isabella hasn’t been very active lately-he thought she was working on the tasks with me, so it didn’t really bother him. But it bothered me because I hadn’t even heard her talk about my cartel for the last week or so. Isabella completely lost interest in trying to become a part of the De Lugo cartel, and I thought it was because she
was busy with the Messinas.
The last straw was my phone call with Matteo yesterday. After discussing our patrols in the northern parts of Chicago, I asked him if Isabella was in the warehouse today. He said he hadn’t seen her since morning. I hadn’t seen her either.
“Senor Raul?” Ruben picks up after the third ring, and I narrow my eyes, still looking at the driveway where Isabella was a few minutes ago.
“She just left. Do you have someone to send after her?” “Yes, senor.”
“Good.” I nod and straighten up, feeling the anxiousness in my chest turn down a notch. “Keep an eye on her. Where she is, what she’s doing, if there’s anyone around her, if she’s safe. I want to know everything, understand?”
“Yes, senor,” Ruben says after a short pause, and I can imagine what exact phrase caught him off guard, but I don’t really care anymore. I just want to be sure that Isabella isn’t doing anything stupidly dangerous-or dangerously stupid.
I receive the first update from Arturo some ten minutes later.
Isabella is on her way to Jefferson Park, nothing suspicious. Okay. That sounds okay. Arturo keeps sending me updates every twenty to thirty minutes to the point that I stop checking them so thoroughly. It looks like Isabella is just on a regular task to check the Escarras’ old territories, nothing new.
This is why I miss the moment when Arturo stops sending me the updates, and when I finally send him a question mark, he doesn’t reply.
What the hell?
The answer comes less than an hour later with a bang of the front door and Isabella’s annoyed voice. “Raul?”
I figure out what happened even before I get down to the first floor. Isabella is at the base of the stairs, glaring at me with angry fire, and behind her I see Arturo with a black eye looking like a beaten puppy. Goddamnit.
“You couldn’t handle one girl?” I say in a low, displeased voice, quirking an eyebrow at him. But Isabella doesn’t let me focus on him for too long.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing sending your men after me?” Her voice is full of venom as she points her finger at me, stepping forward. “You’ve been spying on me in the middle of the day! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“Arturo, leave,” I say with a cold note, holding Isabella’s gaze. I don’t want any witnesses to our argument.
As soon as Arturo closes the door behind him, already calling
someone to pick him up, I turn around and walk upstairs, ignoring Isabella’s furious growl behind me. She stomps after me, refusing to let it go-of course she wouldn’t-and I feel something inside of me tighten in anticipation.
“No, you can’t just walk away like that,” Isabella yells, following me all the way to my office, where I finally turn around to face her. Her lips are pursed, her eyes are lit up from within, and even though there’s clear anger in her features, I can’t help the desire tugging at my guts.
“Well, what do you want from me?” I raise my voice, unable to hold back the wild and confusing outbreak of feelings in my chest. Anger, regret, desire, longing-everything swirls inside of me, making me hot and agitated.
“The truth!”
“You already know it.” I step closer to her, holding her gaze with a grim frown. “Yes, I sent Arturo to keep an eye on you, but do you know why? Because nobody knows where you spend your days.”
“What?” She frowns with confusion and frustration in her dark eyes. “I work on my tasks, what-”
I laugh with cold amusement. “That’s a lie! I’ve talked to Riccardo, he hasn’t seen you in days.”
For a moment, it looks like my words catch Isabella off guard. She parts her lips, looking for an answer, but finds none. Instead, she frowns deeper and purses her lips, avoiding my gaze. So she does have something to hide. Damn, why does it hurt?
“It’s none of your fucking business,” Isabella snaps all of a sudden, glaring at me with fury seeping through her voice. “You don’t want me in your life. Why would I want you in mine?”
I growl out loud from the hot rage that her words set in me, and as soon as she tries to turn away, I grab Isabella’s shoulder and yank her back to face me. But I miscalculate my force, and instead of keeping her where she is, the momentum sends her a step closer to me. At the same time, I move forward, carried by the force of fire in my chest-and our chests end up meeting halfway through.
For a moment, we both freeze. I look down at her, feeling the difference in our height that much clearer. Isabella looks up at me with wide eyes and a flush on her cheeks, her hand instinctively grasping my side. The warmth of her touch and the intimacy of our closeness send a jolt of heat through me, and my fingers reach for her waist-when Isabella steps back
all of a sudden.
“Uh, sorry,” she mutters, looking flustered. She tries to turn away again, but my hand grips her shoulder tighter. When she looks up at me, I meet her gaze with my heart pounding in my chest.
“You’re already in my life, and there’s no way out,” I say in a deep voice, and before she can process it, I pull her closer and capture her lips with a kiss.
It takes her a second to catch up-and Isabella melts against me, kissing me back with her fingers tugging at the hem of my shirt. Oh, the night in my office is going to be hot.