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Isabella is not just some woman. She is the woman. Perhaps I’ve known that from the very first time I laid eyes on her, when those stormy baby blues met my gaze with challenge instead of coyness and deceit. No, Isabella clearly did not want anything from me. She would have rather run far, far away, than to come to my penthouse, just as she’s doing now.
If I were a better man, I would let her go. Allow her to disappear into the crowd at the Chicago airport, drowning in the sea of bodies all trying to get to a different destination.
But I’m not a better man.
I don’t intend to lose Isabella without putting up a fight. She left after hearing the ladies talk about Tiarra and didn’t take the camera tells me everything that I have to know about Isabella’s heart and her intentions. The fact that she would leave me, and the power and prestige that come with being by my side, even if she did think I was cheating. Not many other women would have cared, as long as they were well taken care of.
But not Izzy…
She challenges me at every turn, shares her innermost emotions and fears, and until now, wanted to be by my side, even knowing how black my dark-hearted soul is.
When I told her that she is mine, I meant it. The magnetism and love between us is too strong for her to ever belong to anyone but me. If she had malice in her heart toward my family, she could have easily gone to the police with what she knows, done any number of things to cause us harm, instead of simply run.
I glance at my watch with impatience.
My phone dings repeatedly with incoming email as it syncs over to the Wi-Fi system in the air. I barely scan them knowing my cousins would get ahold of me directly and that anything else can wait. But instinct causes me to check, and an email from her catches my eye.
I read every word slowly, absorbing each and every thing she has to say, but the only words that resonate areBut that was before I came to love you.
The chances of us landing in enough time for me to find Isabella before she disappears into the throng of people and on another plane to god-knows-where and I never see or hear from her again are fifty-fifty.
My jaw locks tight with apprehension, my stomach tied in knots knowing that she may not even want to see me, but I sure as hell do not plan on respecting her wishes.
Chapter24
Isabella
The plane landsand all the passengers file into the airport, quickly scattering to get somewhere else. I make a beeline to the bathroom, passing the ladies washing their hands at the sinks and touching up makeup in front of the wall-length mirrors to find an empty stall.
My hair spills loose as I remove the blonde wig and dump it into the shopping bag. I run my fingers through the mass of curls, fastening it into a messy bun.
The sink area has cleared out when I finish in the stall, with the exception of one woman who finishes painting her lips. She packs her purse up and leaves the restroom as I begin to wash my hands.
I take a deep breath, looking in the mirror. Now, I can disappear and go anywhere in the world. I rummage in my purse to switch passports and head into the main halls of the airport to find a directory.
The store I want is not far and when I get there, there is an assortment of electronics. I pick up a pay-as-you-go phone. There will be time to establish new service when I get to where I’m going. Perhaps I should have discarded my phone before leaving Vegas, but sending him that email and saving the pictures on my phone was important too. Either way, it’s done now.
If they were tracking my phone, it’s in the garbage. Let them have fun with that when I’m on the other side of the country. Italy just holds far too many memories, people who know of my father or the story about me. A fresh start is best. I can work from anywhere but the Larussios’ control in Italy, New York, Chicago and now Vegas is too strong. I suck in a breath. Maybe it’s time to focus on something else.
The lady at the ticket counter looks up as I approach. “One way ticket to Boston, please,” I tell her, glancing at my watch.
“The last flight out for the night leaves in about an hour. You should have plenty of time to get through security and to your gate. The congestion is pretty minimal at this time,” she says, keyboarding the information from my passport into the computer before handing it back.
I tuck it into safekeeping and walk to the nearest coffee shop and get a hazelnut flavored decaf before finding a place to hang out. The grouping of chairs is nestled by a large fake tree and close to a window so that I can see the airplanes coming and going, and the city lights fanned out around us in the night.
My eyes close for a minute, savoring the quiet and the reality of my decision. A new start anywhere is not easy. It’s my country too, and I’m now leaving another one thanks to Lorenzo Larussio.
A gentle movement of the adjoining seat pulls me from my reverie as the all too familiar fresh scent of soap fills my nostrils and lungs.
I swallow hard because I don’t need to see him to know that he’s found me. I can feel him like a warm blanket that wraps around me in the night.
I open my eyes, and he’s staring at me with those intense dark eyes that penetrate me with their stare.
His eyebrows raise as he holds up the shopping bag I didn’t realize was missing until now. “You left it on the floor in the ladies’ room. Did you really think I wouldn’t follow you halfway across the country and miss a chance to peel this little red dress from your body tonight, Isabella?”
He takes my hand. “Come, the jet is waiting on the tarmac to take you back to where you belong.”
There is no use fighting because I’d never get away now, and even if I did, I have no doubt that he would just find me again. If the Larussios want me to write more stories, clearly that is what they will get.
