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She smiles softly. "Well, no wonder you turned out so spoilt."
"Ouch," I grimace, clutching my hand to my heart.
What is with this woman, playing push and pull with me. One minute she's the meekest dove and the next she's a vicious feline.
Chapter 5
Isabella
Theworldoutsidetheairplane window is a blur, and Stefano's voice is drowned out by the roaring engines. My hands grip the armrests tightly as the plane lurches violently, and fear coils in my stomach like a venomous snake.
"Isabella, are you alright?" Stefano's concerned gaze meets mine, but I barely hear him.
The turbulence sends my mind spiraling back to a memory I've tried so hard to suppress – my mother's death in a plane crash when I was barely eight years old.
"Isabella, breathe" Stefano urges, his dark eyes searching my face for any sign of calm.
But I can't breathe deeply, not with the ghost of that fateful day clinging to me like a second skin. I see my mother, Evangeline Torres, her green eyes smiling down at me as we say our goodbyes at the airport.
"I love you, darling," she had whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead before boarding the private jet that would become her tomb.
"Isabella, focus on me." Stefano's voice cuts through the fog of memories, and I force myself to look into his eyes. They anchor me to the present moment, but my heart races with the echoes of loss and fear.
"Sorry," I whisper, feeling vulnerable and exposed. "I lost my mother in a plane crash," I try to explain, trying to prevent him from thinking I'm a wreck without cause.
"Mio Dio,"he murmurs dear god, resting his hand on mine. Another violent jerk has me pulling my seatbelt tighter and putting my head between my arms, resting on my knees.
My mind is yanked back to the day I found out. I was sitting on the living room floor, playing with my dolls when the news flashed on the TV screen. Evangeline Torres, dead in a private plane crash off an island in the Maldives. My heart leapt into my throat as the newscaster delivered the devastating details – no survivors. Photos of my mother flashed across the screen.
"Accompanied by the pilot and two family members," they said, their voices hollow, devoid of emotion. I couldn't understand how they could be so cold, so detached, when my entire world came crashing down.
My father came running into the room, flinging his phone across the couch.
"Isabella, no," my father's voice trembled as he reached for the remote, abruptly switching off the TV. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed red with tears that refused to fall. He pulled me into his arms, trying to shield me from the pain, but it was too late – the tsunami had already hit.
"Mamá!" I screamed, clinging to him as if he were my lifeline, my only tether to sanity amidst the chaos of grief and loss.
"Mi amor,"he whispered, rocking me back and forth. My love, my love, my love is all he could say.
Suddenly, a huge turbulence jolts me back to the present moment. The plane lurches violently again, causing an overhead compartment to spring open. A scream pierces the air as someone in the back is struck by a falling backpack.
"Oh my god!" I gasp, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Isabella, take deep breaths," Stefano says, his voice steady despite the panic swelling around us.
I instinctively reach out, grabbing his hand for support. Our fingers interlock, and I find solace in his touch – a lifeline in the stormy sea of fear and uncertainty that threatens to pull me under.
"Just breathe," he urges and our eyes lock, anchoring me amidst the chaos.
I do as he says and squeeze his hand tighter. I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady my racing heart.
"My mother died in a plane crash when I was eight," I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper.
I already told him that, didn't I? So why am I saying it again and again, like the truth can be changed? The words hang heavy in the air, and I can feel Stefano's grip on my hand tighten as he processes the information.
"Isabella, I'm so sorry," he says gently, concern etched across his handsome features. He shifts in his seat, turning to face me fully, and I can see the protectiveness that flares in his dark eyes.
"I've been terrified of flying ever since," I admit, vulnerability creeping into my voice. "But I thought I could handle it this time."
