20. Niccolò
20
NICCOLò
I haven’t spoken to Isabella since the gala, and I’m not sure what to do next. I need to move faster, but I also want to give her time to come to me, even though I know she won’t. Not after what I did to her. At this point, I’m just wasting fucking time.
“Have you made any progress with the DiMaggio girl?” my dad asks while I sit across from him in his office.
“My plan is in motion.”
“Good. I’ve been in contact with my supplier, so we need to get access to a port soon. I promised them we would get back on track, so see to it that it gets done, Niccolò. They’ll only wait so long before they move onto someone else, and we cannot lose out on that income. Do whatever it takes to make her yours, and get her to convince that foolish brother of hers to give me back what’s mine.”
I’m about to excuse myself when my dad’s question stops me. “And what did I tell you about your clothes?”
I glance down at my jeans, shirt, and black leather jacket. “I rode my bike here.”
“And what did I fucking tell you about that damn bike of yours?”
My dad’s never liked the fact I ride a motorcycle. He thinks my ass should only be parked in the back of a two-hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle with a private driver instead.
When I don’t respond, my dad scoffs and says, “Just get out of my office and get the damn DiMaggio girl.”
I grind my teeth and say, “I’ll get it done” before excusing myself from his office.
On my way to the elevator, my phone rings.
“What’s up, Dante?” I answer.
“We’re at Liana’s boutique on Fifth Avenue. Your girl just showed up.”
Pressing the button to go down to the underground garage, I say, “Anyone else with her?”
“Two guards, Rocco and Gianni, and Matteo DiMaggio’s wife.”
Talking to her won’t be easy, but I have to fucking try. “Keep tabs on her, and let me know if she moves. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
I pull up to Liana’s boutique and park my bike right in front of the store while Dante and Leo hop out of their car.
I greet them quickly before rushing into the boutique where I’m immediately stopped by the DiMaggio guards, my shoulders running straight into their hands.
I should’ve known walking into the boutique wouldn’t be too easy.
Knocking both of their hands off my shoulders, I look Rocco and Gianni over, locating the slight protrusion in each of their suit jackets where I’m sure they’re packing heat.
“Something I can help you with, fellas?” I say dryly.
“You know you shouldn’t be in here,” Rocco says, looking me and my guys over.
“I just need to speak with Isabella. Surely, you can look the other way for a few minutes, Rocco.”
I move to barrel through them but am stopped again. Leo and Dante step in, grabbing hold of them and tearing their hands off me. We square up to each other, and I have to give it to Rocco and Gianni. They’re outnumbered, and if we got into it with each other, we could easily take them down, but they still stand their ground. Protecting what they’re supposed to be protecting. Doing their jobs.
“What the hell is going on over here?” a voice hisses from behind Rocco and Gianni, and I know right away it’s my girl. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
I glance between the two guards before making eye contact with Isabella, who looks as beautiful as ever in a long-sleeve ivory shirt that tucks into her dark-purple high-waisted pants. Her fierce eyes are pinned on mine in a glare that would have anyone else running right out this front door, but not me. I’ll take her glare over silence—it’s something.
“What are you doing here?” she hisses once more, trying to keep her voice quiet, as to not disturb the customers.
I look at Gianni before settling my gaze on Rocco’s. “Mind moving so I can speak to Isabella?”
Neither of them answer and remain rooted in place, so I look through the space between them at Isabella and speak loud and clear, drawing any unwanted attention I know she’ll hate our way. “I need to speak with you, and I’m not leaving here until I do.”
Isabella’s eyes widen as she looks around, taking in the few bystanders that have stopped their shopping to see what’s going on.
“I’ll cause a scene if I must, Isabella.” My voice remains loud, firm, and uncaring. “I’ve already started, so it’s up to you if you’d like me to stop.”
She snaps her gaze back to mine and clenches that pretty, little jaw of hers but still makes no move to tell her guards to back down. So I try one last time.
“Do you want me to make a scene in the middle of your cousin’s store in front of all of her customers?” I glance around at the shoppers. “There sure is quite the audience here. I think it might be fun to put on a little show for them.” I cock a brow and give her a smirk, letting her know she’s turning this into a game for me. One I’ll make sure I win.
Her eyes flare, and she braces her hands on her hips, giving me that cute attitude I’ve always known her to have, challenging me to see if I’ll back down. Oh no, my sweet Isabella, this is no bluff.
My smirk widens. “Have it your way. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I’m about to give the signal to Leo and Dante to restrain Rocco and Gianni when Isabella’s voice stops me. “Fine. My gosh. Why do you have to be so dramatic, Niccolò?”
Again, with the Niccolò.
“It’s fine, guys. We’ll be right over there,” she says, pointing to an uninhabited corner of the store.
“Izzy, Matteo would not be okay with this,” Rocco says.
Of course.
“I’ll handle him” comes another voice, and my gaze snaps to its source.
Luxtyn DiMaggio.
Do I have Matteo’s wife on my side?
Rocco gives her a concerned look, to which she rolls her eyes before bringing her gaze to mine. “Niccolò, are you planning on killing Izzy?”
“No,” I say.
“Are you planning on kidnapping her?”
Actually, that might not be a bad idea. If she doesn’t listen to me, I could always force her to…
As if Luxtyn can read my mind, she juts her hip out and places her hand on it. “I’m trying to help you here. The least you could do is help me help you.”
I don’t know Luxtyn DiMaggio, but I can see what Matteo sees in her and why she and Isabella get along. Conceding, I give her a slight nod. “No plans of kidnapping.”
“And you’ll stay right over there?” she asks, pointing to the same area Isabella pointed to before.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Rocco, you and Gianni can watch from here to make sure nothing happens. Just give them a few minutes, and I promise, I’ll handle Teo.”
I need more than a few minutes, but at this point, I’ll take whatever I can get.
“We don’t want to disrupt Liana’s place of business by causing a scene,” Luxtyn adds when Rocco and Gianni don’t move to let me by.
The DiMaggio guards exchange a look before Rocco finally concedes and nods to Gianni. They step to the side to let me through.
I walk up to Isabella whose mouth is set in a straight line and the small vein on her temple looks like it’s about to pulse right through her flawless skin. She’s beyond pissed that I put her in this situation, but I don’t care. I’d rather have her pissed at me than ignoring me.
“Come on, and make it fast,” she hisses through clenched teeth before stalking over to an open space between two displays of clothes.
I follow her over and stop when she spins on her heel and glares at me, arms folded over her chest, waiting to hear what I have to say.
She’s so closed off. Her demeanor tells me she wants nothing to do with me, and it guts me, but I push through because I need her to hear what I have to say. I might’ve hurt her back then, but I had a damn good reason to, and she needs to understand that.
“I was hoping you would’ve reached out to me by now,” I say.
“How would I do that? I don’t have your number.”
Of course she doesn’t.
She must notice the reaction on my face because she gives me an amused scoff before saying, “You thought I would keep your number in my phone after everything? You’re ridiculous.”
“I guess it’s to be expected that you’d delete it.”
“Blocked it too.”
My mouth falls open to speak, but before I can get the words out, Isabella holds her hand up to me and continues. “Look, Niccolò, I don’t have time for this, okay? The only reason I’m over here is because what you’re doing is incredibly unprofessional. You don’t come into Liana’s business and cause a scene, stomping your feet like a child because you didn’t get your way.”
I try to speak again, but she barrels right through. “I don’t want to talk to you, and I don’t want to see you. I just want you to leave me the hell alone,” she whisper-shouts.
“Isabella, I’ve given you space, and time to come to me. I understand you’re upset, but I need to talk to you.”
“No, I don’t need to do anything, but what I do need is for you to leave me the hell alone.”
I shake my head. “That’s not going to happen, and if you want to stop going around in circles, then you’ll listen to what I have to say.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, she closes her eyes and tilts her head up to the ceiling, baring that long slender neck of hers. A neck that looks soft enough to kiss. I used to love the feel of her skin underneath my lips. My dick twitches at the memories.
Bringing her head forward, she opens her eyes, resting them on mine, and the vulnerability behind them rips my breath away, nearly suffocating me. I just need her to understand, but she looks so damn… broken. How the hell could I have done this to her?
“I’m telling you, I don’t want to hear your excuses. You could have the world’s best reason for what you did to me, but I’m so done, Niccolò. Why do you continue to have this same damn argument with me?” She sounds defeated. So fucking defeated. And I’m the one who did this to her.
“Because at least when you’re arguing with me you’re speaking to me. I’d do anything at this point not to endure your silent treatment. I’ll take whatever I can get from you, Isabella. Even if it is your anger.”
I want to take her into my arms, hold her, and never let go. I should’ve never been a slave to my dad back then. Fuck, I still am a damn slave, but not for long.
“You need to leave,” Isabella says. “Please. When I’m ready to talk, I’ll reach out to you, but that’s not right now and especially not here.”
I was hoping the past week would be enough time for her to process me being back and wanting to speak with her about our past, but maybe I’m being selfish. I know I shattered her fucking heart, but can’t she see that’s what she’s doing to me now?
What am I supposed to do? Talking to her now won’t do any good if she’s shut off to what I have to say.
Fuck.
I let out a sigh, knowing this conversation won’t happen today, but it doesn’t keep me from whispering, “Everything that happened isn’t as it seems,” and as if I’m acting on instinct, I wrap my arms around her waist, which takes her by surprise, and she tenses in my embrace. But when she doesn’t push me away, I pull her to me and hold onto her as if I’m fighting to hold onto something that was taken away from us three years ago. She doesn’t hug me back, but I’ll take the fact that she’s not pushing me away as a win.
Lowering my mouth so it’s just above her ear, I whisper, “Please give me a chance, Isabella, because I’m never giving up on you.”