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"Really... is there?" My throat tightens, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "How long am I to stay here?"
"I... I don't know," Stefano replies, his grip on my hand tightening. "You have so much left to experience, so many people who care about you. Your father's legacy, the tequila empire – they need you."
"Maybe," I whisper, a spark of determination flickering within me, however faint. "But it's hard, Stefano. So damn hard when you don't know what tomorrow will bring."
"I'll talk to the Capo," he says. "See if I can get you permission to leave this room."
I don't reply, simply take a few more bites of my food and cast the tray aside.
There's no point pretending like Stefano has any power over Conti. Either he's blind to not see that the Capo truly doesn't care about my fate, or I'm blinded by my predicament, unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
"You haven't finished," he frowns.
"I've had enough," I say.
"Why don't you take a shower. Get cozy, read a book and sleep. I can send over a glass of wine."
"No, thanks."
He frowns. "The maids said you haven't asked for your room to be cleaned in three days."
"The room is fine," I say.
"Isabella, this isn't healthy," he says, frustration lacing his voice. "You can't keep going like this."
"Fine," I say, blankly. "Send the maids tomorrow."
Stefano can probably feel me retreating again, just as I had when he'd entered the room.
"Okay," he says, uncertainly. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Sure. Whenever you're free. It's not like I'm going anywhere," I give him a wry smile and point each hand in opposite directions, one toward the shuttered window and the other toward the guarded door, finally cracking a joke.
Stefano awkwardly runs his hand through his hair and shuffles his feet, unable to meet my eye.
"Okay then," he almost whispers.
He takes a step forward but lurches it back, toward my bed, almost like he's going to reach out and hug me. But the motion is so small and, so unnoticeable, that I might have imagined it.
"Good night, Isabella." He picks up my tray of mostly untouched food and leaves.
Chapter 18
Stefano
Iwakeupwitha start, my mind immediately consumed by thoughts of Isabella. She seemed so down yesterday and I can no longer just stand by and follow my orders without even trying to advocate for her situation.
My Capo is famiglia. The only family I have. I've never gone against him. But this time, I no longer know what he's thinking or why he's doing what he's doing.
I quickly call for the guards outside her door and ask if they've taken care of her breakfast and cleaned her room. Their response makes my heart sink. She's not hungry, she says. She's still in bed.
"Get on it," I demand, trying to keep my tone calm. "And make sure she's okay."
As I hang up the phone, I think of the woman I met on the plane. She was headstrong, witty, fun. Why hadn't I noticed her wither away in here, over the past months? How could I have let that happen?
Isabella has been through so much, losing her father and inheriting a tequila empire half of Mexico is vying for. It's a heavy burden for anyone to bear, let alone someone as young as she is.
She came here alone, looking for help. At this point, even I know we're not giving her what she needs.
