I S A B E L L A
My cheeks warm up, and I open my mouth to respond, but Angelo beats me to it. He shifts closer to me, resting a hand possessively snaking around my waist, his expression hardening.
“Isabella is my wife,” he says, his voice icy as he looks Bianca directly in the eye, holding me close and causing my breath to hitch as I glance up at him. “I expect you to treat her with the respect she deserves.”
Bianca’s expression falters, a brief flash of surprise and fear crossing her face. “Of course,” she replies stiffly, though the resentment in her eyes is clear. “Welcome, Isabella,” she adds, though her tone is anything but welcoming.
"Mrs. Verossi..." Angelo corrects her, and my heart drops sharply, not realising he would be this eager for people to know who I am. With a curt no
