The Romano Bride

Chapter 16

ISABELLA

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Daniel’s face — the way his smile faltered, the way he tried to stay composed, the way he walked away without looking back. I kept hearing his voice, soft and resigned, telling me goodbye like he was letting go of something he’d been holding onto for too long.

And then there was Adrian.

The storm in his eyes.

The way he stepped toward me like he was fighting himself.

The way he left like he was punishing us both.

I lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment until guilt settled like a stone in my stomach. I felt torn in two — one half grieving Daniel, the other half furious at Adrian, and somewhere beneath all of it, a quiet ache I didn’t want to name.

When I finally drifted off, it was shallow, restless sleep.

The smell woke me.

Warm. Savory. Familiar.

Bacon.

For a moment, I forgot everything. My eyes fluttered open, and I inhaled again, deeper this time. It smelled like comfort. Like mornings that didn’t hurt. Like someone trying.

Like Adrian.

My heart jumped before I could stop it.

I pushed the blankets off and sat up, rubbing my eyes. The room was still dim, the early morning light barely touching the edges of the curtains. My head felt heavy, my body sluggish, but the scent pulled me forward.

I didn’t bother with the robe.

I didn’t think.

I just slipped out of bed in my silk lingerie — the soft champagne set I’d worn under the maroon dress — and padded barefoot across the cool floor. My hair was a mess, my eyes puffy, but I didn’t care.

If Adrian was in the kitchen…

If he came back…

If he was cooking for me…

Maybe last night wasn’t the end of whatever fragile thing existed between us.

“Adrian?” I called softly as I stepped into the hallway.

No answer.

But the smell grew stronger, drifting through the penthouse like a promise.

I walked faster.

“Adrian?” I tried again, louder this time, hope threading through my voice despite everything.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen—

And stopped.

My heart dropped so fast it almost hurt.

Mara stood at the stove, flipping bacon with her usual precise, quiet movements. Her hair was tied back neatly, her posture perfect, her expression calm.

Not Adrian.

Not even close.

“Oh,” I said, the word slipping out before I could catch it. “It’s you.”

Mara turned, her eyes flicking over me once — not judging, not surprised, just observing. “Good morning, Miss Isabella.”

I swallowed the disappointment, but it sat thick in my throat. “Morning.”

She returned to the pan, unbothered. “Breakfast will be ready shortly.”

I leaned against the counter, trying to gather myself, trying to pretend I hadn’t just walked out here half‑naked expecting someone else.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked without looking up.

“No,” I said honestly.

She nodded once, as if she expected that.

I watched her work, the quiet efficiency of her movements, the way she never wasted a gesture. It should have been comforting. It wasn’t.

“Where’s Adrian?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Mara didn’t pause. “He did not return last night.”

My chest tightened. “At all?”

“No.”

“He didn’t even stop by?”

“No.”

Each answer landed like a stone in my chest.

I crossed my arms, suddenly aware of how exposed I was. The silk clung to my skin, cool against the morning air. I should have gone back for the robe. I didn’t.

“He called me and asked that I return to the penthouse so you would not be alone, Miss.”

I blinked.

“He called you,” I repeated slowly.

“Yes.”

The humiliation hit hard and fast.

He didn’t even want to be in the same space as me.

He just made sure someone else was here to babysit me.

I pushed the bacon around my plate, appetite gone. He could’ve come home. He could’ve talked to me. At least that’s what I thought was best.

“He could’ve tried to at least talk to me again,” I muttered to myself.

Silence.

I let out a frustrated breath. But no. He just leaves. He disappears.

Exactly like I do when I’m upset. Damn it! We are not a good combination already and we’re not even married yet.

Mara flipped an egg with the same calm precision she always had. “If I may.”

I nodded to her.

“He might believed you needed space, Miss.”

“I didn’t need space,” I snapped — then immediately regretted the sharpness in my voice. “I needed… I don’t know. Something.”

“Perhaps honesty,” she said quietly.

I froze.

Honesty.

The one thing I didn’t give him.

I looked down at my hands, fingers twisting together. If he came back last night… would I have told him?

I wouldn’t have.

Not the truth.

Not that I had dinner with Daniel.

Not that I broke Daniel’s heart.

I pressed my palms to my eyes, exhaling shakily. “God, I’m a mess.”

“You are human. You are allowed to be a mess,” Mara said.

I let out a humorless laugh. “That’s generous.”

She set a plate in front of me — eggs, bacon, toast — everything I used to eat when mornings didn’t feel like punishment. “Eat,” she said softly.

I stared at the food, but my stomach twisted. “I’m too angry.”

“At him?” she asked.

“At myself,” I admitted.

And it was true.

I was furious with Adrian for leaving.

Furious with myself for lying.

Furious with Daniel for being so good it hurt to let him go.

Furious with the universe for putting me in the middle of two men I didn’t know how to choose between.

I pushed the plate away. “He should’ve come home.”

Mara folded a towel, her movements slow, deliberate. “Would you like me to call him?”

“No.”

“Okay, Miss.”

I blinked.

I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the pounding behind my eyes. “He should’ve come back anyway. Maybe he just didn’t want to be with me.”

“Perhaps,” Mara said. “But Mr. Salvatore is not a man who forces himself where he believes he is unwelcome.”

I swallowed hard.

Unwelcome.

The word stung.

I stared at the empty doorway again, imagining him standing there, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, eyes burning with that mix of anger and want that always made my breath catch.

But he wasn’t there.

I rested my forehead on my arms, breathing slowly, trying not to cry.

Mara spoke softly. “You care for him.”

I didn’t lift my head. “No.” Who am I trying to convince? I am such a liar. God!

She didn’t push.

I lifted my head, staring at the untouched breakfast. “If he doesn’t come back tonight…”

Mara looked at me, waiting.

“I will leave and go to my parents’ house.” I quickly changed my mind. “Or maybe somewhere I can relax.”

She nodded once, as if she understood more than she let on. “Then perhaps you should stay at Hotel Valente. I have been there once and it is very relaxing. You can take a swim at the rooftop and no one would bother you. The food is to die for and they serve unlimited booze.”

I swallowed. That sounds actually amazing and I felt like I needed that break. If I go there with a friend, that would be even better. I should take Lena with me.

“I will think about it.”

“Sure, Miss. Please let me know if I can be of assistance. I can make a reservation for you. Just let me know.”

I nodded then stood from the stool, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’m going to shower.”

Mara nodded. “I will prepare tea.”

I walked back toward my room, the silk brushing against my skin.

I closed my bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, exhaling shakily.

I felt like a horrible person.

And the worst part?

I wasn’t sure I disagreed.