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Chapter 5
Marcel
I don't know when we agreed to share a hotel room, but it isn’t like there isn’t room for it. For a place where people tend to spend thousands of dollars on small boxes and call them apartments, the hotel rooms are luxurious as fuck.
I made her tell meeverything. How in the hell did little miss Isabella, not even a true Clan member end up as a CIA agent going after the most terrifying crime family arguably in the country? Her father is an ass for putting her in this position, and when this is all said and done, we will have words. Maybe more than words. I don’t know if I want him working for me anymore knowing what he is involved with. Yes, I am mafia, but trafficking weapons, especially to go to a place like that.
I watch her as she goes about her morning routine. She doesn't even look in my direction, and I wonder if I am really just a piece of furniture to her or if she is avoiding eye contact with me on purpose. It's been three days since our encounter at the restaurant and other than go over a good plan to reel in Falcone, we haven’t talked about it at all.
It hadn’t occurred to me she would have thought I was there to propose to her based on her father's wishes. Her father has never come to me to ask such a thing, even though I am sure he knows that his daughter has been infatuated with me for years now. He actually planned on her marrying Stefan Dalca of all people, which never would have worked out. He is a wildcard, unstable, and Isabella even though she thinks she's bad ass now with all her CIA training is still a beautiful and sweet girl who needs and deserves someone strong and stable. Someone she can count on.
I can see now why I would fit that bill, but I never saw her by my side before. Maybe dealing with father and his impending death and Aria and her plight blinded me from what could be. And now she is going to be charming Franco Falcone with her business smarts and good looks. . . her fresh young face because what sick old man doesn't fall for that shit? If things go well, she will be losing her virginity to this man, who doesn’t deserve it.
She comes out of her room and poses in front of me as if this is like a fashion show, and I pretend like I don't care. I glance up with hooded eyes as if I am bored to see that despite the fact she is dressed for a supposed business meeting over coffee, she looks utterly indecent.
Her long hair is tangle up in a braid and put to the side of her shoulder, and she is wearing a grey dress that lands above the knees, a tiny black belt accentuating her tiny waist. She would be the envy of any woman trying to pull off cute and corporate, and any man would drool over her. There is no doubt she is going to get Falcone’s attention at their meeting. And I have already trained her on what to say, how to handle him. Her words and her body will impress him.
"What do you think?" she asks, her hands on her hips like she is fed up with me.
"I think you look like a little girl trying to do business." I grin at her teasingly, and she simply rolls her eyes. When did that become the kind of cute that makes my cock twitch rather than the kind that was annoying?
“You know, we’re adults now. There’s no need to constantly act like you’re my annoying big brother or something,” she says, slipping on a pair of kitten heels that make her legs look beyond appetizing. I have to adjust in my seat to hide the fact that I now have a bulge in my pants. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“I am not your brother,” I tell her, a little too sharply as she goes for the door.
“My point exactly.”
She leaves before I can say anything else, and I am about ready to punch a wall. I can’t believe I just let Isabella Zugra walk out of this door with the intention of her bagging an old crime kingpin who is known for the way he goes through women and surrounds himself with young ones. Suddenly, I am angry.
Angry at her.
Angry at the CIA.
Angry at the FBI.
Angry at her father.
Angry at myself.
I am angry at me for not seeing it sooner. But you know what they say about hindsight.
Shit, I think I have a thing for my sister’s best friend. And I think I am going to have to do something about it fast or I am going to lose her entirely.
***
It is two hours later when she comes breezing back in the door, and by then I have almost torn my hair out or worse, gone after her and blown her cover because I can’t stop thinking about what might have been going on. My head keeps going to the worst of places, wondering how his hands might rake over her beautiful body and demand to take from her what I wanted to be mine.
Damn Stefan for getting in my head about that.
“So, how did it go?” I gruff out as she kicks off her heels and starts taking down her hair. The braid has left it wavy and the Manhattan air had pieces of it windswept.
“Considering I have been gone for two hours, it went well. He ended up buying us lunch as well since the conversation went on so long. I was invited to a gala he is attending next weekend. It’s black tie, so I’ll have to make sure I have the right thing to wear. I didn’t bring much of that with me.” She rambles on as she goes about making coffee in the kitchenette, basically a kitchen the size of an apartment back in L.A. “He says there will be many business associates there to mingle with, and he can introduce me to them.”
“You know as well as I do that a gala isn’t just about business.” I am trying my best to contain both my rage and my desire, but I know one of the two is about to come out. I just have to choose which one.
“It’s not like I haven’t been expecting something like this since the beginning. I have been psyching myself up for it ever since they told me to use the fact that I am a woman to get an in with Franco. It isn’t like I am thrilled about it, but I have come to terms with it,” she says as she hits the button for the coffee maker just a little too hard.
I have come up behind her, so close I could reach out and touch if I got the courage together. I don’t know if there would be any future for us after Falcone got a hold of her. I don’t know how cruel he will be, how he will twist her, or how this whole job will ruin her. But I want to try.
And if nothing else, her first time does not need to be like that. It should be important.
It may sound damn cocky but how much more special could it be than losing it to me?
“If you’re prepared to go all the way with this, Isabella, then I am going to need you to do me a favor.” She turns around to look at me, and I can see the shock in her wide eyes at how close I am to her. I press her up against the counter, showing her just how she makes me feel.
“What favor?” she whispers, and I lift up her leg, my hand caressing her thigh just underneath her dress.
“Don’t give that part of yourself to him.”
