She lets out a huff. “It’s still stupid.”
I bump my shoulder into hers and say, “It is. But maybe it won’t be so bad.”
I can practically hear her eye roll. “Bella, you have heard the rumors about Ian throughout the years, right? The guy is a total dick.”
Everyone has heard the rumors about Ian Di Marco on how he likes, to um, well what he is like and what he likes to do to women. He likes to share or have multiples added in. There is no way that he will ever find me attractive, and no way I’d be into any of this.
“Yes, I have heard.” I say with my voice soft.
Lucia moves, making the bed bounce turning to face me with her legs criss-crossed. “I meant to ask you, did I see you talking to Don Enzo Ricci tonight?”
I can feel my face heat up thinking about the man at the bar again, but I have not stopped thinking about him to be honest. The way his dark eyes bore into mine as if he was trying to see into my soul and the way they glided over my body. Don Enzo Ricci. I have a name.
“He came up to the bar when I was ordering a drink. It was small talk. That’s all.” I tell her with the hopes of her not pressing me.
“Bella, I would be careful being near or talking to him. Again, the rumors about him are not rumors. They are true. The tension between him and your new future husband’s family is not something to take lightly.”
She is not wrong about what has been said about Don Ricci. He is known to torture his enemies before he rips them limb from limb. And not to mention he has never been seen with any woman, which is hard to believe at how incredibly hot he is.
“Again, Lucia, it was nothing. Two people talking about drinks.”
She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Okay. But still be careful.” Her face softens. “I love you, big sis.”
I squeeze it back. “I love you, too.”
I’m sitting in my office, my cellphone in hand, my eyes are glued to Isabella’s dot move over the map. The moment I laid my eyes on her, I had this urge to track her every single move. To have my plan work, I needed to keep a close eye on her whereabouts and as well as Ian. I kept my distance from him at the party a few weeks ago because the two of us cannot be civil. But the more I listen and watch, the more I memorize her every move.
Every day she goes to the same coffee shop at promptly eight in the morning ordering a medium ice-cold brew with oat milk and two pumps of pumpkin with a cranberry and orange muffin on the side and three butters. Not toasted. Listening to her parents berate her and comment nonstop on how big she is having me seeing red with anger coursing through my veins. How could they stand there and say the foul things they cast her way.
“Isabella,” her mother’s voice grates through the phone, “I think it’s best to starting you on a liquid diet starting now before the wedding. It’s the only way you’ll have a chance offitting into a nice dress. I will not let my daughter wear some cheap plus sized dress.”
I shift in my chair getting more and more agitated. “You want to look like you care about your appearance on the biggest day for our family and the Di Marco’s. Can’t have you standing up there looking like your dress was not made for you.” She laughs. “I mean we will have to let it out by five sizes.”
My grip on my phone is so tight that my fingers are so tight the case cracks at the disgusting words my future mother-in-law is saying toward my Isabella. I will make sure that once I make Isabella.
“I see you’re still creeping on your phone watching and listening on the tracker app that you made me install on her phone, aren’t you?” Angelo asks as he enters my office as I turn off the app, click the button on the side of my phone to lock it. “Ever since you had me place it at the party, you have been obsessed.”
I turn in my chair to meet Angelo who is now sitting across from me. “I would prefer a permanent tracker inside her without her knowing. But that will be arranged later. This will have to do.”
He shakes his head as he sits back in the chair. “You are still wanting to go through with this? Go through with marrying Costa’s daughter to pull one out from under the Di Marco’s? It’s risky as fuck, Boss.”
I roll my neck side to side, the cracking sound echo around my office. “My plan has not changed nor will it.” I narrow my eyes as I snap at my second, my best friend.
He tilts his head to the side, he smirks. “Well, just like you had predicted. Costa has agreed to the meeting under the pretense that you have a business deal you thought would interest him. He was more than thrilled to have you reach out to him.”
Just knowing that Costa thinks I want to share my businesses with him or join forces is laughable. I would rather cut off my own tongue and swallow it than to do any kind of “business” with a fucking snake. Just letting him think that I’m doing this to profit both of us when I will be the only one profiting from this arrangement. One word. Isabella.
At the event, Ian’s eyes were never on her. Never watching her every move. Never imagining how she would taste as he licks her neck. Never having his hands on her curvy body with her begging for him to make her feel good.
No.I did.
I watched as she moved around the party with her head looking down. No confidence at all in her body language. She did not want to be there. I watched as other men in the room trailed their eyes up and down her body wishing they could have a taste. I watched how the dress clung to her body like it was made for her. Every single curve was on display begging for me to run my tongue over every single one. I watched how her deep blue eyes had a tiny copper around her iris when mine met hers when I spoke to her at the bar. There was a little minx hiding and ready to be to be let out of its cage.
“Good. Let him believe just that.” I turn my gaze to Angelo. The corners of my mouth tilt up into a smile at my plan. One to demolish the Di Marcos, finally by making Isabella my wife.
Just like the night of the event, the car drives up Costa’s long excessive driveway. Even being here during the daylight still does not help how gaudy and over the top his place is.
The car comes to a stop in front of the steps leading up into the mansion. Dante exits, walks around the back to the back passenger to open the door. Costa’s men loom around the steps and near the car. Unlike Costa, I don’t need an army protecting me when I go to business meetings.
