The Romano Bride

Chapter 11

ISABELLA

Lena returned to the table with two plates, sliding mine in front of me with a proud grin. “Eat,” she said. “This will help you with whatever stress you're dealing with.” She wasn’t wrong.

We talked as we ate — about her family, the restaurant, her still being single, and my engagement to Adrian. When I mentioned his name, her whole face lit up. “I knew it,” she said, pointing her fork at me. “I knew you two would end up together. I was rooting for you back then.”

I nearly choked on my water. “Lena—”

“What? He was obsessed with you. Everyone knew it.”

I rolled my eyes, but warmth crept up my neck. “We were kids.”

“Kids with chemistry,” she teased. I shook my head, smiling despite myself.

Then her expression shifted — thoughtful, distant. “You know,” she said slowly, “since we’re talking about high school… do you remember that nerdy boy who used to stare at you all the time?”

I blinked. “What boy?”

She waved her hand. “He was quiet. Always in the back of the class. Glasses. Kept to himself. He’d look at you when he thought no one was watching. Honestly, it was kind of creepy, but I didn’t want to overthink it.”

A cold prickle crawled up my spine. “No,” I said. “I don’t remember him.”

“Well,” she continued, “he disappeared shortly after you left town. Like — poof. Gone. No one saw him again.”

My stomach tightened. “Do you still see him around?”

She shook her head. “No. But some of our old classmates have a group chat. They post updates sometimes. Weddings, babies, divorces… the usual.”

I forced a smile. “What was his name?”

Lena tapped her chin, thinking. “Hmm… what was it again? Mark? Marcus? No…” She snapped her fingers. “Marco.”

The fork slipped from my hand and clattered against the plate. Goosebumps erupted across my arms. Lena didn’t notice. She kept talking, oblivious. But I wasn’t listening anymore.

Because the restaurant suddenly felt too quiet. The air too cold.

My breath caught. Marco. The name echoed in my skull like a warning. Since returning to New York, I felt truly, deeply unsafe.

I hugged Lena goodbye with a promise to meet again soon — a real promise, not the polite kind people make and forget. Seeing her had grounded me in a way I didn’t realize I needed. But the moment I stepped outside, the city swallowed me again.

Enzo’s SUV idled across the street, but I pretended not to see it. If he wanted to follow me, fine. Let him. Today, I wasn’t letting anyone dictate my movements. I slid into the Porsche, the engine purring like it approved of my rebellion, and pulled into traffic.

I wasn’t going back to the penthouse. Not yet. I needed… something. Distraction. Noise. Color. A reminder that I still had control over at least one part of my life. So I drove to SoHo and parked in a garage, ignoring the black SUV that pulled in two levels below.

Shopping helped. A little. I wandered through boutiques, letting myself buy things I normally talked myself out of — a pair of soft leather flats, a silk blouse in a shade of blue that made my skin look warm, a fitted jacket I didn’t need but loved anyway. I had money saved. My money. My work. My life. I deserved to spend some of it.

But the high faded quickly. By the time I stepped into the lingerie store, the ache in my chest had settled into something heavier. The place was warm and softly lit, all blush tones and velvet displays. Silk hung everywhere — slips, robes, delicate sets that whispered luxury. Normally, I loved this. Silk was my comfort, my armor, my indulgence.

But today… Today it felt like a spotlight on everything I didn’t have. Couples filled the store — laughing, whispering, touching. A woman held up a lace set while her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her from behind. Another couple debated colors, their fingers intertwined. A married pair in their thirties kissed between racks like teenagers. Even the women shopping alone weren’t really alone — they were on FaceTime, giggling with husbands or boyfriends, showing them options, flirting through the screen.

And me? I stood there with a silk chemise in my hands and no one to show it to. No one to tease. No one to surprise. No one to come home to. I swallowed hard and put the chemise back. I wasn’t lonely, I told myself. I was independent. I was free.

Except the truth pressed against my ribs like a bruise: I didn’t have anyone. Not really. Daniel was far away, and even if he weren’t… things were complicated. Adrian was… Adrian. A storm I didn’t know how to stand in without drowning. And everyone else? They weren’t part of my world anymore.

I wandered deeper into the store, pretending to browse, pretending not to notice the way every display seemed designed for someone who wasn’t me. A woman brushed past me, laughing into her phone. “Babe, stop, you’re making me blush—”

I turned away. My throat tightened.

I grabbed a silk nightdress — cream, soft, simple — and headed to the register before I could talk myself out of it. The cashier smiled warmly. “Shopping for someone special?”

I forced a smile. “Just me.”

Her expression softened. “That’s the best kind.”

I wished I believed her.

I paid, stepped outside, and the cold air hit me like a slap. Across the street, Enzo leaned casually against his SUV, pretending to scroll through his phone. He looked up when he saw me. His smile was small, knowing, almost gentle. And for the first time since I’d met him, I didn’t feel annoyed. I just felt… tired.

I clutched the shopping bag a little tighter and walked toward the Porsche, the city buzzing around me, the loneliness settling deeper into my bones. Because no matter how fast I drove… No matter how much silk I bought… No matter how much freedom Adrian tried to give me… I still felt like a girl standing alone in a world full of people who had someone.

And I had no one.

The city blurred past the windshield as I drove, the Porsche humming beneath me like a living thing. Shopping bags filled the passenger seat, silk and leather and small attempts at feeling normal. My mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts that refused to settle.

I was halfway back to the penthouse when my phone rang through the car’s speakers. Daniel. My stomach tightened. I hesitated before answering.

“Hey.”

His voice came warm, familiar, grounding. “Isabella. I’ve been trying to catch you all day.”

“I was out,” I said softly. “Sorry.”

“No, no — it’s fine. I just wanted to tell you…” A breath. A smile I could hear. “…I’m arriving tomorrow.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Oh.”

“I’d love to see you,” he continued. “Catch up. Talk. Just… be with you. It’s been too long.”

Guilt twisted in my chest. He didn’t know. He had no idea that tomorrow, I would break his heart. That I had to. That my life wasn’t mine anymore — not fully, not freely. But I couldn’t say no. Not yet.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s meet.”

“Really?” His voice lit up. “Name the place.”

I swallowed. “How about Le Jardin Noir?”

He let out a low whistle. “Fancy. I’ll make the reservation.”

“Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Isabella.”

My throat tightened. “Me too.”

We hung up. Silence filled the car — thick, suffocating, heavy with everything I wasn’t saying. I pulled into traffic again, my mind spinning.

Should I tell Adrian? Should I warn him? Should I hide it? He’d be furious. He’d be jealous. He’d be hurt — though he’d never admit it. He’d probably send Enzo to sit at the next table. Or worse… he’d show up himself.

But if I didn’t tell him? If he found out another way? The consequences would be worse. Much worse.

I exhaled shakily, the city lights reflecting off the windshield like fractured stars. I didn’t owe Adrian anything. I didn’t belong to him. I didn’t have to report my movements like some obedient little—

My phone buzzed again. A text. From him.

Adrian:

You’re quiet today.

My heart stuttered. Another message followed before I could respond.

Adrian:

Don’t make me worry.

I stared at the screen, pulse hammering. Tell him? Don’t tell him? Either choice felt dangerous. Either choice felt like stepping into a storm.

I turned into the penthouse garage, the Porsche gliding into its space, and sat there for a long moment with the engine off, the silence pressing in around me. Tomorrow, I would see Daniel. Tomorrow, I would break him. Tomorrow, I would choose a path that would hurt someone — maybe more than one someone.

And tonight? Tonight I had to decide whether Adrian deserved to know. Or whether keeping it from him was the only way to protect myself. And him. And everything between us that I refused to name.

The decision loomed, a shadow over the night, leaving me with no escape.