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Isabella
My breath catchesas his finger grazes over my lip. A small gesture that causes my heart to beat faster than it should. Surely, he didn’t mean anything by it. But when the consigliere of the Larussio Crime Family tells me he’ll pick me up personally for a job that I’m perfectly capable of doing on my own, it’s for one of two reasons. He doesn’t trust me or wants to be with me, and right now, I’d bet maybe it’s a little bit of both.
There is no trust between rivals, but if what Lorenzo said is true, the Larussios are not my father’s enemy, but instead, owe my father a debt of gratitude for doing time and keeping his mouth shut all of these years.
But trust doesn’t come easy to any of us where I come from. I’ll want to hear that from my father’s mouth before I trust that what Lorenzo told me is true. Either way, trust, or lack of it, and the need to surface what they so desperately wish to hide has sealed my fate for tomorrow. “I’ll be ready. Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for?” I ask.
Lorenzo nods. “Sadness. A moment of sadness on Emelia’s face, but it can’t just be sadness. It has to be akin to despair,” he tells me. I don’t ask him why, because in my heart I already know. He’s making me take pictures of De Rosa’s daughter under duress, Dominic pretending to help her pick out a dress to wear to her mother’s funeral. Bastards…
I take a sip of my coffee. “When is the funeral? I assume we’ll need a plan to get me into the site,” I tell him.
His eyebrows raise. “Don’t tell me that the infamous Izzy Arden doesn’t know exactly when and where that funeral will take place and has not already devised a grand plan to make an appearance?”
My cheeks heat. “I do have a plan, but given the new arrangement, I wasn’t really sure if that plan would still be viable.”
The intensity of his dark eyes causes my insides to quiver. “Tell me your plan, Isabella,” he asks, spinning the cup in front of him in slow turns that gives me a reason to look at it and not directly into those all-seeing eyes.
The blood in my veins races because explaining my plan out loud to Lorenzo Larussio doesn’t sound like a good idea. Maybe it never was, but it would have gotten me into the gravesite without question. At least I’d like to think that it would have.
I put the cup of coffee in my hands down because all of a sudden, it’s entirely too hot in this room, and my entire body feels flush. I stand, walking to the large window overlooking the city of Vegas and mountain range beyond. The sun may already be bright, but the glass is still cool from the air conditioning. I press my forehead against the smooth glass, taking a moment, barely able to speak over the lump that has formed in the back of my throat. “I was going to attend with one of the De Rosa cousins.”
I sense him before feeling his body press against me from behind. The heat of his body blankets me, causing my already racing heart to beat harder. It beats erratically as he moves the hair from my neck. His lips hover next to the shell of my ear causing the sweetest of desires to settle at my center. “You’ll not show up on the arms of the enemy, Bella. Not today or ever. You may not know your place among us yet, but soon you will,” he says, whispering into my ear as his finger strokes down the length of my neck.
I swallow hard, trying to clear the way for words, anything coherent that comes to mind, because all I can think about is the way the hardness of his body feels pressed against me, the smell of his soap, the warmth of his lips so close to my skin, and the words that send a shiver down my spine.
Lorenzo turns to me, searing me with the intensity of the dark eyes which are now flecked with gold, capturing me in the moment and making it hard to breathe. He needs no invitation; this moment was going to happen since the very first time we met, the attraction bubbling right below the surface is too magnetic for either of us to deny.
His hand snakes around my neck, and his mouth hovers next to mine for a very brief second before capturing mine with the power of his kiss. His hand pulls me close and presses me to him as though I belong to him. My mind reels and heart races with unleashed desire for the devil who seems to know my secrets, and my attraction to his dark-hearted soul.
When he finishes, he lingers for a moment before his finger traces little patterns over the lips that are sure to be swollen from his kiss tomorrow. “I’ll have my driver take you home and pick you up in the morning. We’ll talk about how you’ll get into the funeral then, but it won’t be on the arms of a De Rosa,” he says.
His hand is still cradling my nape, and his thumb rubs that sensitive little spot that causes tingles to run through my veins. “This probably isn’t such a good idea,” I tell him, my voice so hoarse that it almost cracks.
The devil in saint’s clothing contemplates what I’ve said, pulling me even closer. He tilts my chin so that I have no option but to look into those dark all-knowing eyes. “Your body doesn’t see it that way. Your breathing has changed, and your pulse is racing”—he leans down and whispers in my ear—“and your nipples are straining against the front of your sweater, Bella. Your body doesn’t tell me lies,” he says.
He’s not wrong. If he picked me up and took me to his room right now, I’d let him. We both know it. Yet, he doesn’t. “Sometimes we get in the way of things that were meant to be, Bella. You weren’t meant to be an enemy of the Larussios. You will learn the truths, and then you will be able to discern facts from stories that you’ve been told. I’ll meet with Salvatore and Dominic today and we’ll figure out how to get you into that funeral.”
His hand trails from beneath my nape to my lower back, pulling me close and walking me toward the door. “Did you end your arrangement with Larry?” he asks as though Larry didn’t already know what was going to happen.
I glance up at Lorenzo, and he stops walking short of the door. “I did, but it was just a quick note, nothing too formal. I had to use my phone.” My eyebrows lift. “Someone took my laptop.”
He smiles. “Have Darryl stop at a store in town. I have my IT folks working on yours right now. Pick out something you like. Money is no object. Get what you’ll need to take care of all of our needs, now and in the future, plenty of space for pics, and the works.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, silently wondering if life will ever be the same. If I’ll ever get back to writing stories filled with the truth and just for me.
He starts walking again and opens the door for me. The minute I’m through the door and just about to enter the private elevator, he says my name. “Isabella?”
I turn, facing the man who leaves me in a mess of fear one minute and red-hot desire in the very next moment. “Yes?”
“When you get that computer up, spend a little time researching the De Rosa family in Italy. Dig up what you can find on a man named Marco. He is one of De Rosa’s oldest cousins, and he still lives in Palermo. See what comes to light and what remains in the dark; Then cross reference that with what you’ve been told about your father. Be ready to talk about it tomorrow, Bella, capiche?”
“I’ll do that, but can I ask you something?”
He watches me. “You can ask me.”
“Was Larry the one you got the information from? Was he the one who sold me out?”
He sighs with one hand in his pocket. “From what I’m told, Larry thinks very highly of you. We got the information from Larry, but only as a potential buyer of the story he was selling. He wasn’t working with us or conspiring against you, if that’s what you think. You should work on your trust issues, Bella.”
