ISABELLA

Chapter 12

Riccardo’s POV

The door swung shut behind me, but I didn’t walk away immediately. I lingered on the sidewalk, slipping a cigarette from my case, though I didn’t light it. My thoughts weren’t on the nicotine. They were on her.

Isabella.

She wasn’t like the others. Usually, women melted the moment my eyes found theirs. Some stuttered, some blushed so red it was almost embarrassing, and some offered themselves before I even asked.

But her?

She looked at me like I was a storm she refused to bow to. Like she knew exactly how dangerous I was—and decided she didn’t care. That made something in me stir, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Interest.

I smirked to myself, sliding the cigarette back into the case. Her name echoed in my mind. Isabella. Soft. Elegant. But her attitude? Fire.

I wanted to know why she didn’t look away. Why she wasn’t afraid. Why she sat there, sipping her coffee like I was just another man walking into the café—when every set of eyes had been on me.

Her friend gave her away, blurting her name before she could stop him. The glare she shot at him told me everything: she valued control. She hated when someone else spoke for her. That intrigued me even more.

And that slip of hesitation… the pause in her breath when I leaned close? That wasn’t nothing. She felt me. She was just fighting it.

Good. I liked a fight.

A black car rolled up, and one of my men stepped out to open the door. I ignored him for a moment, still replaying the way her lips formed words she didn’t mean.

“Or maybe I just don’t care.”

Liar.

I slid into the car, my smile faint but dangerous.

“Keep an eye on her,” I ordered my driver, voice calm, measured. “Discreetly. I want to know everything.”

As the car pulled away, I leaned back, fingers drumming lightly against my knee. Isabella didn’t know it yet, but she’d just walked into my world.

And once someone was in my world, they didn’t get out.

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Isabella’s POV

I was curled up on my bed that night, hair still damp from the shower, my laptop open but completely ignored. Nico had gone to his room hours ago, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I tried to distract myself—scrolling through i********:, half-reading an article, sipping the cold remains of my tea—but every time I blinked, I saw him.

Riccardo.

The way every girl in that café froze when he walked in, like he was some kind of dark angel who had just descended from the heavens. The way his eyes locked on me, sharp and steady, like he’d already decided I wasn’t going to leave until he was done with me.

And God, the nerve of him. Sitting at my table, pushing into my space, smiling at me like he could see straight through my skin.

I shook my head, groaning. “Get it together, Isabella. He’s just a man.”

But even I didn’t believe my own words.

Just as I was about to close the laptop and force myself to sleep, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. An unknown number.

I frowned. Normally, I never picked up calls I didn’t recognize. But something tugged at me. Against my better judgment, I swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

Silence for a beat. Then a voice. Deep. Cold. Commanding.

“Isabella.”

I froze. My hand tightened on the phone. “Who… who is this?”

A low chuckle hummed through the speaker. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

My stomach dropped. That voice. That tone. I’d only heard it once, but it left a mark on me.

Leo.

My chest tightened. “How do you have my number?” I blurted out, my voice sharper than I intended.

“That’s not important,” he replied, calm and unbothered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to call a stranger in the middle of the night. “What matters is that I wanted to speak to you. And when I want something, I get it.”

I swallowed hard, sitting up straighter on the bed. I didn’t like this—this feeling of being hunted, of being under someone’s thumb without even realizing it.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, though my voice cracked slightly at the end.

He was quiet for a moment, and I could almost hear the smirk in his silence. “Nothing… yet. I just like to know the people who interest me. Consider this… an introduction.”

I wanted to hang up right then. Slam the phone down, block the number, and pretend this never happened. But I couldn’t. My hands wouldn’t move, my body locked in place.

My mouth worked before my brain caught up. “This is insane. First today, Riccardo, now this—”

I cut myself off instantly, heart skipping a beat.

But it was too late.

The air on the line shifted. His voice came back, colder, sharper. Each word coated in steel.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

My pulse thundered in my ears. Oh no.

Nico’s voice flashed in my head from earlier that day: The two cousins aren’t on good terms. Don’t ever get caught between them.

I forced a shaky laugh, scrambling to cover myself. “Nothing. Forget it. I didn’t say anything.”

The silence on the other end was suffocating. He didn’t believe me—I could feel it. But he didn’t push, not yet.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Isabella.” His voice was smooth again, but the threat beneath it was clear. Then the line went dead.

I stared at my phone, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.

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I dragged myself downstairs, hair messy, clutching a mug of coffee like it was my last lifeline. Nico was already sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up the moment I walked in, his brows knitting together at the sight of my pale face.

“You look like hell,” he said flatly.

“Thanks,” I muttered, collapsing beside him. “I didn’t sleep much.”

His phone slipped to the side as he turned to face me. “What happened?”

I hesitated, chewing on my lip. But it was Nico. I couldn’t keep it bottled up. So, with my voice low, I told him everything—the call, the way Leo somehow had my number, the way his voice made my skin crawl and my chest tighten. And worst of all, the way I’d slipped Riccardo’s name into the conversation without meaning to.

By the time I was finished, Nico’s eyes were wide. “Isa,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Don’t remind me. It just slipped out!”

He let out a harsh laugh, more out of nerves than humor. “Slipped out? You basically threw gasoline on an open fire. If Leo thinks Riccardo is sniffing around you—” he snapped his fingers, “—someone’s getting killed.”

My head shot up. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m not saying it to scare you,” he muttered, leaning closer. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Leo doesn’t let things slide. Especially not when it comes to Riccardo.”

My stomach knotted. Just hearing it out loud made the weight on my chest heavier.

Before Nico could add more doom to my already dreadful morning, a familiar, sweet voice cut through the room.

“Isa!”

We both turned toward the staircase. Daniella, came bouncing down with a huge smile on her face, her hair still in messy curls from sleep. She was holding a pile of dresses in her arms.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she said, her tone playful and demanding at once. “Come on, play dress-up with me. I want to try all of these before breakfast.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Dress-up?”

“Yes, dress-up,” Daniella insisted, marching right up to me and tugging on my hand. “You can’t say no. You’re my doll today.”

Despite everything weighing on me, I couldn’t help but laugh. Her energy was contagious, bright and unbothered in a way I desperately needed right now.

I glanced at Nico, who was already smirking. “Oh no, you’re not leaving me alone in this,” I said, standing up and tugging his arm.

“Wait—what?” he protested.

But Daniella was already clapping her hands in delight. “Yes! Nico too. You’re both playing with me!”

And just like that, Nico and I were being dragged upstairs, my dread pushed—at least temporarily—to the background.

Because if Leo was really as dangerous as Nico said, I had no idea how long I’d get to laugh like this again.