Chapter 8
CIRO
Rage engulfed me after leaving Isla at the bistro. She seemed different. More mature and in control of her emotions, which wasn’t good for me. It shouldn’t surprise me after nearly a year and half. She was still so young and was changing and growing every day.
But I hadn’t expected her to flat out reject me.
“Everything okay?” Paolo asked.
I grunted making my way to the SUV.
Paolo didn’t say a word and opened my door. I sat in the passenger’s seat, wholly confounded. Why San Francisco?
I took in my surroundings. It was busy like LA, with cars and people everywhere.
I’d never cared for the Bay Area and its foggy, damp climate.
The weather alone would depress me. Warm temps and clear skies were more of my vibe, which was why I was buying up resorts and casinos in Southern California.
I was thoroughly shocked that Isla had moved up this way.
“Where to, boss?” Paolo started the vehicle. I hadn’t noticed my door was closed, or when he got into the driver’s seat.
“I’m not ready to leave.”
“Okay, so then what?”
“We sit and wait.” My cell phone chimed with a notification. I dug it out of the inside pocket of my blazer to find a message from Roman. Of course, my brother had to pester me about Isla. “Fucking, Roman.”
“He sent me a text too.”
“He did?” I ground my back molars. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. I left the message unread.”
“Ah. That’s probably why he’s texting me now.”
“Should I reply?” Paolo asked, appearing concerned he’d made the wrong decision.
“No. I’ll deal with my brother. You just do your job, which is anything I want.”
“Yes, boss.” Paolo put the car into drive. “To the hotel then?”
“No. We leave when I say so.” I knew what Paolo was doing. He wanted to get me away from Isla before I did something stupid. What could be more stupid than losing her in the first place?
“All right,” he replied in a frustrated grumble and turned the dial to park.
Probably against my better judgment, I decided to read Roman’s text. I was bored sitting in a non-moving car. I might go insane having Isla in reach and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it, short of taking her against her will.
But then, Roman had every right to be angry with me for leaving abruptly.
We were preparing to open a new casino in Canada next month and we’d recently found out we had a half-sister named Jinx, living in North Dakota with her biker husband, Silas Knight, a,k,a Spectre.
They recently had their first child, Marco, and my father was over the fucking moon happy to have a grandson.
All that crazy family drama was another part of my chaotic year.
Not one goddamn thing had been easy after Isla left me.
Despite being absent from my life, she was everywhere.
There were personal items of hers in my bedroom.
Her talented design skills were woven through every part of my new casino. It was impossible not to think of her.
I was damn proud of how the casino turned out.
Had a feeling Isla would be proud too. Prior to her dumping my ass, she’d been involved in the design to help build her portfolio for when she opened her own firm.
Hopefully, I could convince her to return to Canada with me, so she could see her beautiful creation.
The casino meant a lot to me. It truly did, yet I ditched it for the woman who meant everything to me. Roman could manage the finishing touches in my absence. But I opened his message, regardless, to see what he wanted: Check your email. I need your approval for Ariel and Belle. And catering.
I snorted. Those couldn’t be their real names. We didn’t have a princess show.
And needing my approval on the catering was a lame excuse to text me. My nosy brother just wanted to find out how things were going with Isla.
Before telling Paolo to take me to the hotel, I watched the bistro.
This isn’t over, My-la. Be ready for round two.
An hour later, I was relaxing on the balcony of my suite, willing the brisk ocean air to calm and refresh me. My hands were rolled into fists and my nostrils were flared. I needed time alone to pull myself together before planning my next encounter with Isla.
What I wanted to do was throw her over my shoulder and carry her away. I could’ve forced her to talk, manipulated and threatened her, but I’d sensed an unfamiliar strength and resolve in her. Dominating Isla in a public place, in front of her co-workers, would have been a grave mistake.
My caveman tactics would’ve made matters worse. There was a right and a wrong time to flex my control. My unfailing instincts had forced me to leave the bistro without a fight. I needed to keep reminding myself to be careful with Isla because she meant more to me than anyone else in the world.
After I’d inhaled her into my lungs and touched her, I knew without a doubt we belonged together. The intense connection we had was alive and well, and strangely stronger than ever. I was confident she was single and not married as Roman had suggested.
I blew out a cleansing breath, lifted my wine goblet off the table, and took a drink. Isla and I would talk, catch up on what we’d been doing since we last saw each other, and I would convince her to return to Canada with me so we could start over.
And I would do everything in my power not to screw up my second chance.
Clapping my hands, I went inside to find Paolo.
“Are we leaving again?” he asked, getting to his feet and setting his glass of bourbon down.
“Relax. We’re staying in tonight.”
“We are?” He slowly sat back down on the white sofa and reached for his glass. “You don’t want to talk to Isla?”
“Oh, I most certainly want to talk to Isla, but I think tomorrow would be better.” I went over to the bar, grabbed a glass, and poured bourbon into it.
“I must admit, I’m surprised to hear this.” Paolo watched me with a cautious glint in his eyes. “I mean, you seemed very determined to bring her back to the suite tonight.”
“Yes, yes. I know.” I waved him off and swallowed the amber liquid. “Sometimes I get ahead of myself.”
“Sometimes?” Paolo snorted. Because he was my cousin, I wouldn’t let his dig bother me.
“I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong. And overwhelming Isla isn’t the right way to go about getting her back.”
“Oh, is that what you’re doing now? Getting her back?” He relaxed and sipped his drink.
I bit down on my back molars. Why was Paolo pushing me?
Normally, he fell in line without complaint.
After all, it was because of my family that he and his mother weren’t living in poverty on the streets.
We gave them a respectable home and allowance.
For a price, of course. Paolo’s job was to do anything we needed as payment for his father’s debt.
“Do you have a problem with my change of plans?” I narrowed my gaze at him, pinning him in his seat.
“No, sir. I don’t have a problem.” He visibly changed before me, realizing his offense.
“You obviously have an opinion.” I took a few steps in his direction. “Speak your mind.”
“I don’t have an opinion. I apologize for my comment.”
“Well, then…” I sat on the leather club chair across from Paolo and crossed my leg over my knee. “Tonight, I’ll put a plan together to romance Isla back into my life.” Possibly bounce ideas off Paolo, although he knew very little about women.
Paolo’s degree of engagement with the opposite sex was only physical, which was why he paid for sex. His debt to my family was so enormous that having a wife and children would be irresponsible. He couldn’t afford to give them a good life because he had no money of his own.
Also, my cousin never showed emotion and only spoke when spoken to. Which made his earlier comments, baffling. Since my father rescued him and his mother from destitution, Paolo had developed selective mutism. He took orders well and never questioned anything, until just now.
Admittedly, he’d caught me off guard but in a good way. He was the strongest man I knew, could kill a person with his bare hands, and would have no problem defending himself. But I felt sorry for him. His life was not his own, and it wouldn’t be until my father’s death.
I imagined Paolo didn’t feel safe enough to speak, and that wasn’t okay with me.
The rumors floating around about me weren’t totally true.
I wasn’t a heartless and ruthless man, but I’d never correct the lie.
It was better to have people fearing me instead of trying to destroy me and the Remotti empire.
“How do you romance someone?” Paolo asked in a low voice, keeping his gaze on his glass.
“How do I personally romance someone or is that a general question?” If it had been anyone else, I would have made fun of them. Called them an idiot or loser. But not Paolo.
“Never mind.” He stood and went to the bar, refilling his glass.
“I spoiled Isla,” I told him, disregarding his never mind and answering his question honestly. “Fancy restaurants, shopping sprees, walks on the beach at sunset, flowers just because. That might sound cliché, but every man needs to find his own way of doing things.”
“She wanted all that?”
“Nope. She never asked for anything, unlike other women I’d dated. Isla is a quality time and physical touch person. Material items didn’t mean anything to her.” I pondered my words, shocked that I’d known what her love language had been all along.
“If things didn’t matter to her, why did you spoil her?” Paolo returned to his chair, bringing the bottle of bourbon with him and setting it on the coffee table. This engaging side of Paolo was foreign to me. Typically, I did all the talking and he did all the listening.
“That’s a very good question, cousin.”
He reared his head back but maintained his composure despite me calling him cousin. Padre, my brothers, and I hadn’t treated him like family since he was a young boy. He’d been reduced to servant status, and it wasn’t until now that I felt a little guilty about it.