Don's favorite (The mafia nun)

Isabella hummed softly as she placed the freshly picked daisies on the dining table. The fragrance of lavender wafted through the air—a soothing contrast to the excitement swelling in her heart. Tomorrow would signify the beginning of her new life as Luca’s wife. Five years of courtship, endless promises, and dreams of a future together would finally become real after their wedding tomorrow. She glanced towards the clock. Luca had promised he would visit and it was unlike him to be late especially not in the eve of their wedding. “Maybe, he's planning a surprise for me” she giggled to herself. But the smile didn't last long. She turned her head towards the stairs as she heard some funny sounds. Her brow furrowed. “Sophie?” she called out softly, making her way toward the stairs. Her little sister frequently invited her friends over, but this seemed like an unusual time. As she ascended the stairs, the giggles grew more clearer, mingled with a voice she knew all too well—Luca’s. Her heart skipped a beat. She halted on the upper step, feeling a lump rise in her throat. No. It just couldn’t be. She slowly moved towards the source of the voices, following it up to Sophie’s room. A mixture of dread and disbelief settled deep down in her stomach, driving her forward. The door was slightly open, and through the gap, she caught sight of them. Luca sat on Sophie’s bed, shirt rumpled and half unbuttoned, his hand tangled in her sister’s golden hair. Sophie, draped in one of her delicate silk robes which hardly covered her body leaned into Luca with a coy smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. Isabella felt like her world had turned upside down. A pressure gripped her chest as the sight in front of her destroyed the very foundation of all she believed. She fully push the door open, her voice trembling with a mixture of fury and heartbreak. “Luca? Sophie?” The couple sprang away from each other, but Sophie acted swiftly—tears immediately filled her large, innocent eyes. She tightened her grip on her robe, her lips trembling. “Bella! It’s not what it looks like!” Sophie cried, shaking her head, her voice faltering as if she were the one being wronged. Luca rose, his expression hardening. Rather than looking remorseful, he shot a glare at Isabella as if she were the intruder. “Isabella, please calm down,” he said firmly, positioning himself protectively in front of Sophie. “You’re frightening Sophie.” “Frightening Sophie?” Isabella’s voice trembled as her fists clenched at her sides. “I just found you in bed with my sister, Luca! How could you do this? We’re meant to get married tomorrow!” Sophie sobbed, covering her face with her hands. “Please, don't blame Luca. It's not his fault,” she murmured through her tears. “It just… it just happened. Please don’t hate Luca, Bella. I can’t bear the thought of you hating him!” Isabella’s hands trembled as she stared at Sophie, who was already crying. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way, Bella,” Sophie sobbed, clutching Luca’s arm as if she was the victim here. “I love Luca so much. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please believe me, I care so much about you.” The words cut into Isabella like a knife. Her sight blurred, her ears buzzed, and all she could focus on was Sophie’s voice. The very voice that consistently had the power to control those around her, bending hearts to her will. “Don’t you dare,” Isabella murmured, her voice trembling with barely-suppressed anger. “Don’t you dare say you care about me.” “I do!” Sophie insisted, taking a step forward. “I’ve always cared about you, Bella. This was never supposed to happen. It just—” The slap came before Isabella could stop herself. Her palm strucked Sophie’s cheek, the sound ringing in the room like a gunshot. Sophie stumbled backward, her hand instinctively flying to her face as her eyes widened in shock. For a brief moment, her facade faltered , and Isabella caught a glimpse of the fierce anger in her eyes. But it vanished almost instantly, replaced by tears and trembling lips. “Bella!” Luca yelled, positioning himself protectively in front of Sophie like a barrier. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Isabella's breath hitched, her hand aching from the impact. "What is wrong with me?" Her tone shook with anger and disbelief. "What are you doing, Luca? With my sister?” Sophie whimpered again, hiding her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Bella,” she sobbed. Luca placed a reassuring arm around Sophie’s trembling shoulders, his face darkening as he turned to Isabella. "She’s asking for your forgiveness! She’s here in tears, pleading with you, and this is how you respond to her? Slapping her?” Isabella let out a shallow laugh, her voice breaking as she pointed at Sophie. “You’re kidding me, right? She’s begging? After she slept with you? After she destroyed five years of my life?” Sophie sniffled, wiping her tears but staying silent, her head bowed as if she was the victim in all of this. “Apologize to her,” Luca said, his voice cold and firm. The word hit her like a slap to her face. Isabella blinked, stunned. “What?” “You heard me,” Luca said. “Apologize for slapping her.” She stared at him, the man she had loved, the man she had trusted with her whole heart. The man she thought would stand by her no matter what. And now he was standing up for her sister—the woman who had stabbed her in the back. She had thought Sophie seduced him, but now— “I’m supposed to apologize?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “You cheated on me with my sister, and now you want me to say sorry?” Luca’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But then Sophie’s soft sobs filled the room again, and Luca’s expression turned to stone. “Sophie understands me in ways you never did. She’s exciting, unpredictable… everything you’re not. Maybe you should stop trying so hard to be perfect all the time. It’s exhausting, Bella. And frankly, boring.” The air felt thick as Isabella clutched the doorframe to steady herself, her chest rising and falling as the betrayal sank in. Luca sighed, like he was tired of the conversation already. “Maybe you should stop trying to control everything. Not everything revolves around you.” “How long?” Isabella asked, her voice trembling. “How long have you been sneaking around behind my back?” Neither of them answered, but their silence was enough. The weight of it crushed her, and she felt her chest tighten until she could barely breathe. Without another word, Isabella turned and walked out of the room, her legs unsteady. She needed to get away, needed air.