ISABELLA

Chapter 48

Isabella’s pov

I shut the door behind me, letting out a shaky breath as I pressed my back against the cool tile. My heart was still racing, and my hands trembled slightly—not from fear of being alone, but from the sheer intensity of the meeting room a few moments ago.

Dante.

I leaned over the sink, staring at my reflection. My eyes were wide, searching, trying to make sense of what I had just seen. He’s… mafia? My mind kept repeating it, each word hitting harder than the last.

When we were dating in California, none of this had ever come up. He had been charming, smooth, completely ordinary—or at least, as ordinary as he seemed back then. There were no secret meetings, no threats hanging in the air, no veiled power moves. Just Dante… the boy I had thought I knew.

And now? Sitting across the table from me, he was a part of something far darker, something I hadn’t even imagined. The calm, calculating smile. The way he had tried to pry into my life with Leo. The subtle arrogance—he hadn’t changed, yet everything had changed.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to shake the confusion. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t I notice?

My stomach twisted. It felt like betrayal, mixed with fear, mixed with disbelief. All the memories I had of him—our laughs, the stolen kisses, the late-night drives—suddenly seemed like they belonged to someone else, someone I didn’t really know.

My mind wandered to Leo. I could still feel the pressure of his hand over mine, the warmth of his presence, the silent promise that nothing would touch me while he was here. That’s… safer. That’s real.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to steady myself, trying to remember that whatever Dante was, whatever he had become, I had someone now—someone who didn’t just talk, someone who acted. Someone who protected.

And I had to go back. I had to return to that table, sit with him, and pretend like I was composed. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t.

I took a deep breath, steadied my shaking hands, and turned toward the door. It was time to go back. Time to face him.

I pushed open the restroom door, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to step back into the negotiation room. My pulse hadn’t calmed yet, but I tried to walk normally, to act like nothing had happened.

A firm hand clamping onto my arm.

“Hey, beautiful,” a stranger said, his voice smooth but possessive. “Why don’t we go out? Just one drink… maybe more.”

I tried to pull away, my stomach twisting. “I’m not interested,” I said firmly, trying to step past him.

He tightened his grip, and a sharp sting ran through my arm. “Aww… that hurts,” I hissed, instinctively pulling back.

“Come on,” he said, leaning closer, his voice dropping low. “Just one night. I promise, it’ll be fun… we can fuck.”

I struggled, trying to pull free, but he dragged me closer, his other hand sliding onto my waist. My heart raced, fear and anger spiking in equal measure.

Before panic could take over, a strong hand gripped his shoulder and yanked him backward. The security detail Leo had discreetly assigned to follow me was right there, standing between us like a wall.

“Hands off,” one of them said coldly, the authority in his voice making the man flinch.

I took a shaky step back, relief flooding me. My arm still throbbed where he had grabbed me, but the panic eased as the man was shoved away.

Leo pov

Isabella returned to the table, walking slowly, but my eyes caught the small red mark on her hand almost immediately. My chest tightened, and I didn’t bother hiding my irritation.

“Che cos’è questo?” I asked sharply, my voice low but cutting through the room.

(What is this?)

She looked down at her hand, then back at me, hesitant. I could see the faint pain in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together.

Before she could answer, my gaze snapped toward the security man I had discreetly assigned to follow her.

“Spiegami subito!” I barked, my hands clenching into fists.

(Explain to me immediately!)

The security agent stepped forward, meeting my glare without flinching. “Signore, she was approached by a man—he grabbed her. I intervened immediately, sir. She’s unharmed, but…” He gestured toward her hand. “…he left a mark.”

I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my anger in check, but the cold edge in my voice remained. “Chiunque osi avvicinarsi a lei… farà male. Capito?”

(Whoever dares to come near her… will get hurt. Understand?)

The agent nodded sharply. “Capito, Signore.”

(Understood, Sir.)

I turned back to Isabella, my eyes softening just slightly as I gently lifted her hand. “Va bene?” I asked, brushing my thumb over the red mark, careful not to hurt her more.

(Are you okay?)

She nodded, though I could see the tension still lingering in her shoulders. I gave her a small, reassuring squeeze of her hand, letting her know that she wasn’t alone. Not now. Not ever while I was here.

Then I leaned back slightly, refocusing on the negotiation, my hand still lightly touching hers under the table.

Dante leaned back in his chair, that smug grin plastered on his face as if he enjoyed every flicker of irritation he saw on mine.

“Well,” he said smoothly, his eyes flickering to Isabella before returning to me, “I think we’ve made good progress tonight. Terms sound reasonable enough. But…” His smile deepened. “…I would like to continue this… relationship. Both business—” his gaze slid to Isabella again “—and otherwise.”

My jaw tightened. My thumb rubbed over the back of Isabella’s hand under the table.

“You’ll have business with me, Moretti,” I said firmly. “Only me. Don’t make the mistake of confusing where the lines are drawn.”

He chuckled lightly, swirling his glass of wine. “Of course, of course. Strictly business. I can respect that. But it’s a shame, really. Isabella and I go way back, don’t we, bella?”

I felt her tense beside me, but before she could answer, I cut in. “The past doesn’t matter.” My voice dropped lower, harder. “She’s mine now.”

Dante raised his brows, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he lifted his glass in a mock toast.

“To new beginnings,” he said.

I didn’t bother lifting mine. I just stared at him until his smirk faltered slightly. Then I stood, pulling Isabella gently up with me. “We’re done here.”

Matteo and the guards were immediately at attention, falling in step as I led her out. My grip on her hand was tight, protective, unwilling to let go even as we left Dante sitting there with his fake charm and hollow smile.

I finally exhaled, lowering my voice for only her to hear. “Non ti lascerò mai sola con lui, capito?”

(I’ll never leave you alone with him, understand?)

She nodded softly, and I kissed her hand where the red mark still lingered.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The moment we stepped out of the private dining room, I felt it—eyes on us. Heavy, lingering, too focused to be casual.

I scanned the lobby of the venue, the chatter, the clinking glasses, the waiters moving with trays of wine. But then… I caught them. Two men, sitting near the bar, pretending to sip their drinks but their gaze never straying far from Isabella.

My grip on her hand tightened.

“Leo?” she whispered, sensing the change in my body.

I forced a smile, leaned down, and brushed my lips against her temple. “È tutto a posto, amore.” (Everything’s fine, love.)

But my eyes never left the men.

“Matteo,” I called low, sharp. He was immediately at my side, straightening as he followed my line of sight. His jaw tensed.

“Take her to the car. Now.” My tone left no room for argument.

Isabella frowned, confused. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

I cupped her face gently, making sure her eyes stayed on mine, not on the threat behind me. “Sì. Everything’s fine. I just need to see a friend, that’s all. Go with Matteo. I’ll be right behind you.”

She hesitated, worry flickering across her face, but Matteo was already at her side, placing a protective hand on her back.

“Go,” I said again, firmer this time. I kissed her forehead quickly before pulling away.

As Matteo led her toward the car, my gaze shifted back to the men by the bar. One of them smirked when our eyes locked.

And that’s when I knew—this wasn’t coincidence.