16. Niccolò
16
NICCOLò
W atching her in the arms of Massimo Bonetti was fucking torture, but now that I have Isabella in my embrace, I struggle to come up with what to say. There’s so much to tell her, but I don’t know where to start, and her delicious floral scent and the feel of her soft skin have me captivated. Wanting to relish in this moment where she’s not outwardly hating me.
Isabella stiffens in my hold, and I’m brought back to reality where the woman I love hates me, and I have to figure out a way to change that.
Swallowing deeply, she continues to avoid eye contact with me, so I take the opportunity to tell her what I’ve waited over three years to tell her.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you once, Isabella,” I whisper, which causes her to snap her gaze up to mine, anger flaring behind her brown eyes.
Finally, a reaction.
It’s not the reaction I want, but it’s a reaction, and at this point, I’ll take what I can get from her.
“How dare you,” she spits out, keeping her voice down so only I can hear her. “You think you can come back after abandoning me the way you did and tell me you haven’t stopped thinking about me?”
She goes to pull away, but it only makes me tighten the hold I have on her. I’m not letting her get away from me this time.
“Good, you’re talking to me now.”
“Let go of me, Niccolò,” she says through clenched teeth.
“Niccolò, huh? No more Nicco? I remember telling you how much I loved the way Nicco rolled off your lips. Hearing you moan it. Scream it…”
“Only your friends call you Nicco, and I’m not your friend,” she snaps.
“No, you’re far more than that.”
She attempts to pull away from my grasp again, but I don’t let her.
“Let go of me,” she repeats.
“Not until you listen to what I have to say.”
“I already listened to the bullshit that came out of your mouth. I’m done now, so release me.”
I pull her impossibly closer, lining her hips up with mine so there’s little space for her to move. The feel of her curves pressed up against my body brings me back to those days when we’d relish in each other’s wake.
Isabella has changed little since I last saw her. She’s still the most innocently beautiful—feisty as all fucking hell—woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Please, Isabella. Just let me explain myself to you, and then I’ll let you leave.”
She releases an amused scoff and repeats my words. “ Let me leave?” Shaking her head, she adds, “Wow, you really have some nerve, Niccolò .”
Now she’s using my full name to get under my skin. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with Niccolò, but I’ve always had the people closest to me call me Nicco. It differentiates acquaintances from friends. And my dad.
Isabella was once the closest person to me in my life, and now she wants to treat me as if I’m only a stranger. As if our past was nothing.
But I’m not going to let her.
I’ll do anything to get back into her life.
Whatever it fucking takes.