17. Isabella
17
ISABELLA
T he song changes, and Nicco lightens his grip on me, so I take advantage and tear myself from his embrace. Whipping around, I stomp off the dance floor in the opposite direction of my table. I can only imagine what my brothers would think if they witnessed this exchange.
Not knowing where I’m going, I wander down a hallway where event workers seem to be coming in and out of, needing a minute to myself to gather my composure before going back to my table.
I slide into a room that looks to be an office. It’s empty. Just what I need so I can process what the hell Nicco said to me.
He hasn’t stopped thinking about me? He has no right to tell me that. He’s not allowed to think about me. Not after the way he treated me and the part his dad played in the death of my parents.
Not even a minute goes by before I hear the door shut behind me, and I know immediately by the hairs standing up on the back of my neck that Nicco has followed me into the office.
Bracing one hand on my hip, I bring my other up to the bridge of my nose, squeezing it to dull the sudden throbbing pain in my head.
“Isabella—”
“Stop!” I yell. I don’t want to hear anything else he has to say. I can’t hear anything else he has to say.
“Please, just?—”
I whip around and hold my finger up to him.
“I said stop, please !”
After a brief hesitation, he closes his mouth, finally giving me the silence I’ve been needing.
Whether I like it or not, I take this moment to truly look at Nicco. It’s the first time I’ve really been able to since he’s been back.
He looks the same but different. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit with a crisp white button-up and a black tie. His dark hair is longer than how he used to have it but effortlessly swooped back out of his face. And he’s bigger than I remember. Broader shoulders giving him the illusion of a slim waist and stacked legs. Before, he used to rock a clean-shaven face, but now he’s grown out some facial hair. Not too much but just enough to give him a more rugged look.
How in the hell is he more handsome now than he was before?
That brief feeling of desire diminishes when a bucket of cold water gets thrown on top of it when I remember why I hate this man.
“I really don’t want to hear whatever else you have to say, Niccolò.” My tone is soft. Tired.
The emotions this man brings to me are too much to handle.
I don’t want to handle them.
I bring my gaze up to his, and I swear sadness takes over his dark eyes.
Eyes I used to get lost in.
Eyes I once fell in love with.
Sadness I don’t understand since he’s the one who did this to me.
To us.
“Please, Isabella…” His scratchy tone conveys the solemn look in his eyes, and I hate that it squeezes at my heart. It’s like his pain is mine.
Holding up my hands to Nicco, I tell him once more, “Stop. I’m begging you. Please, just stop.”
I don’t want to hear the excuses he has for abandoning me. Acting like he was in love with me one moment and then like I was nothing but the dirt on the bottom of his shoes the next and leaving me to be with another woman. It’s not fair what he’s doing to me.
Emotions course through me like the waves hitting each other in the ocean during a hurricane, and I don’t know what to do about them.
I know I hate this man, but the way he’s affecting me is like I haven’t moved on. Is it closure I need from the way he ended things with me? Will that help me leave what we had in the past?
I shake my head at my internal thoughts. No matter what I’m feeling, I know I can’t have this conversation with Nicco right now. I don’t think my heart can take it.
Nicco steps back and shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Okay,” he concedes. “I’ll give you some space…”
“Thank you,” I breathe out, my body finally relaxing from the tension he’s brought ever since I stepped off that elevator.
Just when I think Nicco will leave, he takes me off guard and closes the distance between us with a few strides. He raises his hand to my cheek and cups it, then wraps his other hand around my back to hold me in place when I jump in surprise. My chest rises and falls against his.
“But don’t mistake this as me giving up,” he states, his lit-up eyes boring down into me like he’s peering deep into my soul. Like he always has.
“I’ll give you some time, but avoiding me forever will not work, Isabella. We’re going to have this conversation, and whether you like it or not, it’s going to be sooner rather than later.”
With the pad of his thumb, he rubs the sensitive skin along my jaw, and a shiver quakes through me no matter how hard I try to keep it at bay.
“Don’t you have a wife to get back to?” I say, knowing he’s not married but still curious at what happened between them.
A small uptick of a smile forms on his face when he says, “No. Definitely no wife to get back to.”
His admission does something to me I don’t want to recognize.
Nicco peers back and forth between my eyes, down to my lips, then back up. My heart rate picks up at what I think is about to happen, but not in a good way.
“Niccolò, don’t even think about it,” I state, recognizing that look in his eye.
He shoots his gaze back down to my lips once more. “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about having you back in my arms again,” he whispers.
“Well, you’re going to have to continue with those fantasies.” I bring my hand up to cover the one he has on my cheek, prepared to rip it off me, but just when I’m about to, I make eye contact with him once more.
“Please, Isabella,” he whispers, the desperation dripping from his voice. “I just need to…”
Just when I’m about to tear his hand off me and pull away from him, warm lips meet mine, and I gasp.
Nicco’s mouth molds to mine, and we fall into a brief second of history. The happy history between us.
But just as quickly as it came, it leaves, my body catching up to my mind. I push Nicco’s chest, but he’s like a stone wall, unwavering. He pulls me in closer, and a low groan escapes him. He’s so caught up in the moment, so I do the only thing that comes to mind—I bite him.
Nicco yanks his head back and releases a hiss of breath through his teeth. Letting go of me, he steps back and brings his hand up to the crimson cut on his bottom lip.
I smile at him, crossing my arms over my chest, but to my dismay, he returns my condescending smile with a smirk of his own.
Chuckling, Nicco says, “You always did like to play a little dirty, Isabella.”
I drop my hands to my sides. “This isn’t a game, Niccolò. I don’t care what you have to say. I don’t want to hear it, so just leave me the hell alone.”
He wipes the blood from his finger onto his jacket, the smirk disappearing from his face. “I’ll give you your space tonight, Isabella. But don’t forget what I said earlier. This conversation will happen.” The tone in his voice is chilling, like he’ll never take no for an answer, so I don’t respond, just wanting this conversation to be over.
Nicco finally accepts my silence with a small nod and slowly turns on his heel. He pauses at the door, his back stiff, and I hold my breath, waiting for what’s to come out of his mouth next. But instead of speaking, he pushes forward, leaving me alone in the room, and I let out a long breath.
After taking a few minutes to gather my thoughts and get myself together, I head back out to the gala.
Lux’s eyes widen as she spots me from the dance floor. She whispers something in Teo’s ear before rushing toward me, looping her arm with mine.
“Are you okay?” she asks, concern lacing her voice.
“Yeah,” I say, but my voice doesn’t come out as confident as I meant it to. “I just want to get out of here. It’s been a long night,” I add, trying to feign nonchalance.
“Let me tell Teo and then we can?—”
Stopping us in our tracks, I turn to face Lux and put the brightest smile I can on my face. “No, you and Teo enjoy the rest of your night. I can just have Rocco bring me home.”
“Are you kidding? I saw you leaving the dance floor in a hurry. I almost followed after you until I saw Niccolò trailing behind you. I wanted to give you guys a minute, but look at you. Something happened, and I’m not leaving you alone now.”
“ Shit, ” I mutter to myself. “Did Teo see too?”
Lux’s mouth flattens into a straight line, and she gives a small nod, sympathy radiating through her big brown eyes. “I had to keep him from storming after you guys. He wasn’t happy.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Please, Lux. I know he’s going to have questions, but I’m really not in the right headspace for an interrogation from him right now. I just—” I suck in a deep breath before releasing it. “I really don’t have the energy to deal with anything tonight. I just want to go home and go to bed.”
Lux studies me before reluctantly giving me another small nod. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m positive. Will you just let Teo know I’m going to head home, please? I know he’s going to have questions, so if you could tell him I’ll talk to him tomorrow about it, I’d really appreciate it.” I give Lux’s hands a squeeze. “I’ll talk to you both in the morning, okay?”
“You promise you’re okay?”
I think about how I want to answer that question because I’m not okay… but I will be. “Everything will be all right, Lux. I promise,” I say before giving her a hug goodbye.
After grabbing my jacket and purse from the coat check, I send a quick text off to Rocco, letting him know I’m ready to head home.
Waiting for the elevator doors to open takes an eternity when all I can feel are Nicco’s eyes piercing into the back of my head. I know he’s watching me from wherever he is in the room, and I pray to God he won’t come up to me again.
That he’s given up for at least tonight.
Because as pathetic as it sounds, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear whatever it is he has to say.