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She's never looked more beautiful.
“We shouldn't—” she starts, but I place my finger on her lips.
“Don't tell me you don't want this too.” I run my thumb along her jaw, feeling the rapid pulse in her neck. “I see the way you look at me, Isabella. I know you feel it too.”
She shakes her head, eyes shining with tears. “It's not that simple.”
I sigh, resting my forehead against hers. Of course it isn't simple. Nothing in my life has ever been simple.
“Talk to me,” I say, stepping away. I leave her standing while I go and pour us champagne. I hand her a glass. “You're right. Tell me about Jalisco. Your childhood.”
A small, sad smile tugs at her lips. I give her my arm. She takes it. We go and sit on the rug.
“You really want to hear about that?” At my nod, she continues. “I grew up on a tequila plantation. My father started the business, and the land was so beautiful, rolling hills of blue agave as far as the eye could see. We lived in an old hacienda with wide verandas and clay tile roofs. Live there, I guess. I mean, I do. Papa's gone..."
Her voice takes on a wistful tone as she describes growing up surrounded by family, riding horses through the fields, learning to make tequila with her father. I can see why she misses it so much, can understand why being trapped here is a kind of personal hell for her.
“After my mama died, it was just my papa and I. We were happy, in our own way.” She pauses, blinking back tears. “And then the gunshot. Coming to New York. This imprisonment."
Guilt twists in my gut. I was only following orders, but that doesn't make it right. I pull her closer, stroking her hair. “I'm so sorry, Isabella.”
She shakes her head. “It's not your fault. You didn't know. It's your job, right?”
“That doesn't make it any easier.” I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “But I promise you, I will get you out of here, eventually. When it's safe. Back to your home, your life. Whatever it takes.”
“You would do that for me?” Disbelief and hope war in her eyes.
“I would.”
Isabella nods, her expression softening. “I shared so much of myself with you tonight. But I still don't know much about you, or how you came to be here.”
I hesitate, the old instinct to remain closed off warring with my desire for intimacy with her. But she has earned my trust, as much as anyone ever could in this life.
“There's not much to tell,” I say with a shrug. “I never knew my parents. I grew up on the streets, an orphan and alone. I was running with a crew that cared nothing for me, peddling drugs, committing petty crime around the city to survive. Until the Capo found me, took me in. Gave me a place to belong. That man taught me loyalty. When I got in trouble, he saved me. Always has and I know, always will. He is the closest thing I have to a father.”
“He raised you?”
I nod. “He saw potential in me, gave me work, gave me purpose. Made me into the man I am today.” I shrug again, uncomfortable with the reminder of all I owe him...and all the debts I will never be able to repay. “I am loyal to him because I have to be. He is the only family I have ever known.”
“But that doesn't mean you have to blindly follow his orders,” Isabella protests. “You have a choice. You can be your own man.”
“It's not that simple.” I rake a hand through my hair, struggling to put words to the tangled web of duty and gratitude and resentment that binds me to the Capo. “I owe him everything. My life, my skills, my position. Walking away...it would be a betrayal. One I'm not sure I can live with. One the mafia wouldn't let me live with, even if I tried.”
“You don't owe him your soul,” Isabella says fiercely. She frames my face in her hands, forcing me to meet the blaze of passion in her eyes. The champagne and our proximity is a dizzying combination. I'm losing my ability to think before I speak. “You are more than what he made you, Stefano. You have a good heart. You deserve to be free, to live your own life, to find your own purpose.”
Her faith in me is humbling, blinding. I want nothing more than to believe I can be the man she sees. But old habits die hard, and the Capo's hold on me is not so easily broken.
“One day,” I whisper, resting my forehead against hers for just a second before pulling back. “One day, I will be the man you deserve. The man I want to be. But not yet.”
She sighs, but nods. “I will wait for you. However long it takes.”
“You may be waiting a long time,” I warn her.
But the warmth blooming in my chest tells me she will be worth every sacrifice. Isabella has given me something to live for, a reason to fight for my freedom. And for the first time, because of her, I allow myself to question whether my life in the mafia is all that rosy as I make it seem. I down my drink.
"How long?"
"I don't know," I shrug. "Does this kill my chances with you? Perhaps till I become worthy of you, we can be friends."
