HIS SWEETEST VENGEANCE

THE FIRST CRACK

Three days of silence passed after the fundraiser. Isla tried to focus on work, but her mind kept drifting back to Enzo Rossi. His intense eyes. The way he commanded a room. That strange mix of attraction and fear she felt around him.

Her phone buzzed and she picked it up. She'd been expecting a text from him.

Unknown number: Tonight. 8 PM. I'll send a car”.

“I'll send a car”, she muttered to herself.

No question mark. No polite request. Just a statement, the same statement he's made nights ago.

Sophia, her best friend, would have told her to ignore it. “That man is trouble”, she'd warned after Isla mentioned his name. But she'd never been this excited to walk into trouble.

Isla: Okay

The car was exactly like him, expensive and intimidating. When she slid inside, he was already there, watching her with those dark eyes that missed nothing.

“You came”. His baritone voice was low as ever.

“You knew I would”, she replied, trying really hard to sound confident.

He almost smiled. “I had hope”.

The restaurant was at the top of the tallest building in Philadelphia. Through the strong glass walls, the city lights twinkles like stars. A single table stood in the center of the empty room, set for two.

This man had rent out the entire restaurant!

She almost could ask just to be really sure. His voice cut through her thoughts. “I prefer privacy”. He pulled out her chair. His fingers brushed her shoulder as she sat, and she flinched at the electric touch. He noticed, but didn't utter a word.

Dinner was a series of small, beautiful courses. He asked her about her work, her life, even her dreams. She spoke and he listened to her like her words were the most important thing he'd ever heard.

Slowly, she found herself opening up. She told him about her fears of failure, her struggling business, the pressure of maintaining her pride when everything was falling apart. In return, he shared careful pieces of himself. A childhood filled with strict rules, a mother he lost when he was just too young, and a father that taught him that emotions were weaknesses.

“I'm sorry”, she said softly. “That sounds really lonely”.

His eyes held hers. And after what seemed like hours, he replied. “It was”.

For a moment, she saw past the powerful man to the wounded boy beneath, the wounded boy who needed total healing.

Her heart aches for him.

Over dessert, Isla made a very silly mistake.

She drank too much wine and her to gue loosened. And when Enzo Rossi asked about her highschool days, she laughed.

“God! I was really awful in highschool. Just…awful. I was so full of myself”.

His expression didn't change but the air between them grew cold. “Were you?” He asked, shifting his gaze from her face to her cleavage. Her breasts looked firm, hiding behind her emerald dress. His gaze rested back on her face.

“I ran that school “, she continued, unaware of the danger. “There was this one boy, a little seventh or sixth grader. He just stared at me one day, like he's never seen a girl in charge before”.

She took a sip of the wine, lost in the memory. “I made an example of him; called him out in front of everyone and I sent him to the principal's office for staring”.

She shook her head and dropped the wine glass she'd been holding. “I never thought about how much that night have hurt him”.

The silence that followed was heavy and deep. Enzo's hand tightened around his wine glass.

“No”, he said softly. “You don't”.

Isla finally looked up. The warmth had vanished from his face, it had been replaced by something cold and hard.

A shiver ran down her spine. She had crossed a line she didn't know existed.

“Enzo”, she mumbled.

He blinked and the pleasant mask returned. Yet, his eyes remained cold.

“Pride makes us blind to many things”, he said. This time, his voice was too calm. He stood. “It's late. I'll take you home”.

The car ride was silent. He didn't speak or look at her. He stared out of his window, his jaw tight. When they got to her apartment, he finally turned to her.

“Thank you for tonight, Isla”.

“Did I say something wrong?” She asked softly. For a second, his guard dropped. She saw pain in his eyes, I stead of anger.

“Goodnight, Isla”, he said. His voice final.

He didn't wait for her to go inside. The car pulled away the moment her door closed, leaving her standing alone in the cold.

Across the city, Enzo stood at his penthouse window, a fades school photo in his hand. His grip tightened on the picture.

The game was no longer just a plan. It was a need.

And it had only just begun!