ISABELLA

Chapter 23

Welcome back for part two 🌸🌺

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Isabella’s lips parted in shock.

Matteo caught sight of her first. He broke the kiss abruptly, his expression hardening as if nothing had just happened. But the woman—unbothered, bold—glanced up the staircase and smirked.

“Oh,” she said with a playful tone, stepping forward. “You must be Isabella.”

Isabella blinked, startled. “I—uh—yes.”

The woman extended her hand gracefully. “Aria Deluca. Leo’s sister.”

Her jaw nearly dropped. His sister?

Aria’s smile widened at Isabella’s stunned silence. “Don’t look so shocked. Yes, I’m the famous sister everyone talks about. And yes…” She turned slightly toward Matteo, her eyes glinting with a secret. “What you just saw stays between us.”

“Aria—” Matteo warned, his tone sharp, but she silenced him with a glare.

Isabella hesitated before nodding slowly. “I… I won’t say anything.”

“Good girl,” Aria said warmly, taking her hand and squeezing it. “I like you already.”

“Leo can be… intense,” Aria whispered as they began walking together toward the sitting room. “If you’re going to survive him, you’ll need a friend in this house. Consider me that.”

Isabella let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. she smiled. “Thank you.”

Matteo muttered something under his breath in Italian, but both women ignored him.

Isabella was still standing with Aria, the tension of their secretive introduction hanging in the air, when the sharp sound of footsteps echoed across the marble floor.

Leo appeared at the bottom of the staircase, dark suit tailored to perfection, radiating authority the way a storm radiates lightning. His sharp eyes swept over Isabella, lingering just long enough for her to feel stripped bare under his gaze, then flicked to his sister.

“Aria.” His tone was flat, unreadable.

“Leonardo,” Aria replied smoothly, her smirk never faltering. “La tua ospite è mozzafiato. Hai davvero buon gusto.” (“Your guest is breathtaking. You really do have taste.”)

Leo’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing to her. Instead, his eyes found Isabella again, softer this time—yet still carrying that dangerous weight. “You’re ready.” It wasn’t a question.

Before Isabella could respond, he turned toward Matteo, who was already straightening his jacket after being caught so off-guard earlier.

“Prepare the car,” Leo ordered, his voice low but commanding.

Matteo gave a curt nod and left immediately.

Aria leaned closer to Isabella, lowering her voice just enough. “Don’t let him swallow you whole,” she teased, though her eyes carried a glimmer of warning. “And remember—we’re friends now.”

Leo’s head snapped back to them, his gaze narrowing slightly at Aria’s words. But Isabella managed a small smile toward Aria before she descended the last few steps.

Leo held out his arm, a silent instruction. Isabella hesitated for a heartbeat before slipping her hand through. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as though she might vanish if he didn’t anchor her.

Without another word, he led her out of the mansion, where Matteo already had the sleek black car waiting.

As the door opened and Leo gestured for her to step inside, Isabella glanced once over her shoulder—back at Aria standing in the golden glow of the chandelier, watching them leave with a knowing look.

The car glided out of the Deluca estate gates, the hum of the engine filling the silence between them. Isabella shifted in the leather seat, the new dress brushing softly against her legs, and sneaked a glance at Leo. His jaw was clenched, his hand resting lazily on the steering wheel, but the energy radiating off him was anything but lazy.

She finally broke the silence.

“Where are we going?” her voice was steady, though her fingers twisted nervously in her lap.

Leo’s lips curved into a faint, almost mocking smirk. “Dinner. A meeting.” His eyes flicked to her before returning to the road. “You’ll sit beside me, look beautiful, and keep quiet unless spoken to.”

Her brows shot up. “Keep quiet?”

“Yes.” His tone was smooth but sharp, leaving no room for debate. “These men I deal with… they watch everything. They test, they pry. I don’t like giving anyone ammunition. So, tonight, you’ll do as I say.”

Isabella crossed her arms, irritation simmering. “I’m not a porcelain doll you can just—”

Leo cut her off, his voice low and dangerous, “No, you’re worse. You’re fire. And fire burns if it isn’t contained.” He turned his head then, his eyes locking on hers for a long, unnerving second before focusing back on the road. “And I don’t let anyone touch my fire.”

Her breath hitched, but she quickly found her voice. “I’m not yours.”

Leo chuckled darkly, the sound rumbling in the confined space of the car. “You keep telling yourself that, bella mia.” His hand gripped the steering wheel tighter. “But tonight, every man in that room will know you belong to me—even if you don’t realize it yet.”

Silence fell again, heavier this time. Isabella tried to steady her racing heart, forcing her gaze out the window but all she could think of was the weight of his words, the certainty in them.

Leo leaned back in his seat, studying her from the corner of his eye. “One more thing,” he added, his voice calm but laced with command. “Don’t wander. Don’t speak to anyone I don’t introduce you to. And never, ever walk away from me. Do you understand?”

Her head snapped toward him, incredulous. “What am I? A child?”

His smirk returned, more dangerous this time. “No. You’re a woman I’d kill to protect. Which means you’ll listen to me, Isabella. Or you’ll learn the hard way what happens when you don’t.”

Her chest tightened—not from fear, but from something darker, heavier, that tangled with her frustration. She hated his arrogance. She hated his control. But part of her… part of her couldn’t deny the pull of his obsession.

She exhaled sharply, sinking into the leather seat. “Fine. But don’t think for a second I’ll stay quiet forever.”

Leo’s eyes gleamed, a predator who’d just cornered his prey. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate.

Isabella’s fists clenched in her lap, her skin tingling with heat. This wasn’t going to be just a dinner.

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Leo’s POV

The valet barely had time to open her door before Isabella stepped out, and every head turned. I knew it would happen—I’d been preparing myself for it since I saw her in that damn dress at my mother’s boutique—but seeing it in real time lit something inside me that burned hotter than I liked to admit.

The men at the entrance, some married, some with mistresses on their arms, froze mid-conversation. Their eyes tracked her like she was prey, like she was something they had the right to look at.

My hands tightened into fists at my sides.

She didn’t even notice—too busy smoothing her dress, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Innocent. Untouched. Unaware that every man in this place would sell his soul just to have her attention for one second.

I moved to her side, my hand finding the small of her back, pressing just firmly enough for her to feel my claim. A warning to everyone watching. She stiffened slightly but didn’t pull away. Good girl.

We walked through the grand hall, the chandeliers casting a golden glow over the tables set for tonight’s “meeting.” I could feel their eyes following her, hungry, shameless—even the ones with wives at their sides.

My jaw locked. Disrespectful bastards.

One of the men, an older associate I knew well, leaned just a little too close as we passed. His eyes dipped too low, lingering where they had no right to linger.

I stopped walking. The room seemed to still with me. Isabella glanced up at me in confusion, but I didn’t take my eyes off the man.

“You’ve got a wife, don’t you?” I said in Italian, my voice deceptively calm.

He cleared his throat, nervously adjusting his tie. “O–of course, Leo.”

“Then look at her.” My hand gripped Isabella’s waist tighter. “Not at mine.”

Gasps fluttered around the room. His wife stiffened beside him, shame and fury flashing in her eyes, while he dropped his gaze like the coward he was.

I didn’t care. Let them whisper. Let them fear.

Because the truth was, I wasn’t jealous. Jealousy was too weak a word for what I felt. This was obsession. Possession. Rage that anyone dared imagine her in a way that belonged only to me.

I leaned down to Isabella’s ear, my voice low and dangerous. “Do you see what you do to men, bella mia? Do you see the chaos you bring just by breathing in a room like this?”

She shivered, her eyes wide, lips parting as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Good. Let her feel the weight of it. Let her know that even if she tried to run from me, she would never be free of my shadow.

The maître d’ led us past the crowded main hall into the private wing, where the real business was handled. Heavy oak doors swung open, and the noise of the room dulled to silence as we entered the private dining room reserved for Delucas.