I remember the first time I brought Simona here after we were married at the city hall. She was overwhelmed with the number of security guards and the size of the house itself, and she jumped and squealed when anyone carrying a firearm passed by her. Isabella, on the contrary, takes all of this in without batting an eye. I guess it’s nothing new to her. She was raised in a house twice the size of mine and with significantly more armed guards.
Damian is already in the dining room, sitting at the table to the left of the head seat. He sees us come in and stands up, extending his hand.
“Finally.” He laughs. “I started wondering if Luca decided to hide you in your room forever.”
“Isabella, this is my brother,” I say and watch closely for her reaction.
My brother is twelve years younger tha
