Fifteen
MIAMI, FLORIDA
Three months. It had been three months since his own nonna had helped Ysabel disappear, and even though he had already spent a fortune of his own money in search of his missing fidanzata —-
Where are you, Ysabel?
It was often whispered about in Boston that there was no one better than La Strega at making people...disappear. Most times, that typically meant the person missing was already six feet under. But in his fidanzata's case?
Massimo was the one who felt as if he had ceased to exist, the moment he found out that the only way to find the girl he loved was to beat his grandmother at her own game.
Where are you, ciliegina mia?
He had barely slept since she had gone missing, and it was only when he had almost gotten himself run over by a damn school bus that his eldest brother Giancarlo had reluctantly pulled rank and ordered Massimo to choose between two alternatives.
You will end up killing yourself at the rate you're going, and then what? Will you be able to make it up to Ysabel if you are already dead? Do all of us a favor, fratello—-either take a fucking break from searching for her or go on a working trip to Miami.
As painful as it was to admit, Massimo knew that every word his brother had uttered was true, and so here he was, playing the role of a billionaire entrepreneur and killing it. He had just closed another multimillion real estate deal for his famiglia, but the success meant nothing to him.
Where are you, my love?
Massimo bowed to the group of Japanese investors that had partnered with the Marchettis for a project in Tokyo, but as soon as they stepped out of the private room he had reserved for their meeting, the polite smile completely dropped from his lips.
I miss you, Ysabel. I love you. Where are you?
He was about to leave the restaurant when its manager hurried after him. " Mr. Marchetti? There is a Ms. Ynez Ossini on the phone for you, and she says—-"
"Whatever she says, you can bet it's a damn lie."
Those who were near enough to hear his words ended up gasping; the expressions on their faces made it clear that they knew who Ynez was...and just as clear was the fact that none of them intended to keep this incident to themselves.
"I'm so sorry, sir," the restaurant manager stammered. "I was not aware..."
"I have a restraining order against her," Massimo explained curtly. "I appreciate if you'd get the word out about this."
Massimo heard the incessant click of cameras as the other guests hurriedly took photos of him as he walked away. Such invasion of his privacy would have been unheard of in his city, and it was one of the reasons why Massimo rarely traveled out of Boston.
Ysabel was the only reason he had flown around the fucking world twice in three months, and now that he was done with his duty here—-
Where are you, Ysabel?
He had just walked back into his hotel when a blast of air-conditioning struck him, and with it came the scent of... cherries?
His heart slammed against his chest even though he knew he was being fucking fanciful. But all the same, he found himself sending up a desperate prayer to the heavens. Dio aiutami. Help me, God.
Ysabel had not stopped loving him in the five years that he had mistaken Ynez for her. Or at least that was what his grandmother had insisted. But either way—-Massimo knew he was willing to wait far, far longer than that. If forever was how long it took to find his fidanzata and beg for her forgiveness—-
I will do anything just to see you, ciliegina mia. Anything.
The scent of cherries refused to disappear, and even though he was convinced it was God punishing him with false hope just as he deserved, Massimo finally looked up—-
And it really was...his Ysabel, in a wedding dress.
FORZA, YSABEL! YOU can do this!
Ysabel had promised her newfound friend she would do this, and do it she would...even if it killed her.
So just put on the damn gown and keep your promise!
Her tears started falling as she squeezed herself into the gown, and Ysabel angrily wiped them away. Big girls don't cry, she reminded herself, and most especially not when it involved walking down the aisle in a pretty dress.
She did her best not to think of anything else as she applied her makeup, but it was only when she sprayed some perfume on herself that she realized too late it smelled of... cherries.
The perfume was part of a welcome gift set from hotel management, and Ysabel didn't know whether to laugh or cry as its scent made her remember the one person she had no business remembering.
I don't understand, God.
Three months had already passed, and she had been so, so sure that this time around, she would be able to forget him for good. The past five years, Ysabel hadn't been able to move on because of the countless what-if questions that troubled her soul.
But it was different now. Or at least it should've been different, since she had come to realize that she, Cattleya, and his grandmother - all of them were wrong. All of them had assumed Massimo had never been satisfied with Ynez because she wasn't Ysabel.
But they were all wrong, and it was time for Ysabel to accept this.
Her sister might have deceived Massimo about that night, but the two of them were clearly meant to be together. How could she believe anything else, when someone as possessive as Massimo could still rush to her sister's rescue...even when he knew Ynez had been cheating on him?
I know it's over between us, God. I already know that. So why can't I still forget him?
She was about to step out of the hotel when the doors opened, and her steps crashed into a silent halt.
Massimo?
He was so, so much more gorgeous than she had allowed herself to remember. But he had also visibly lost weight, and agony squeezed her heart as she tried to wonder why. Were they fighting again? Had he caught Ynez cheating—- non andare lì, Ysa! Don't go there! Just don't!
It was over between them, and—-
Shit.
Massimo had already looked up, and the moment his dark haunted eyes clashed with hers, it was as if the entire world had stopped, and it was all Ysabel could do not to cry the words that were threatening to rip her apart.
Perché, Massimo? Why? Why can't it be me?
Massimo could feel himself whitening as he stared at his Ysabel...but she would not be for long, considering what she was wearing.
"Who is it, Ysabel?" he asked hoarsely.
"I d-don't..."
Was she saying she didn't want to tell him? Perché? Because she believed it was no longer his business?
Massimo knew a man much better than him was deserving of her, but dammit, dammit, dammit—-
"How did you even find me?" Ysabel asked painfully. La Strega had told her she would be safe here, and he would never find her. So why was Massimo now standing in front of her?
"I've been looking for you every fucking day, Ysabel."
It hurt to hear the hollowness of his tone, and while she knew he would never lie—-what if he was only searching for her out of guilt?
"I was driving everyone crazy because of it, and that's how I ended up here."
Was he saying...he had only bumped into her by coincidence?
"Please don't do this." Massimo could no longer bear staring at his Ysabel dressed like a fucking bride and not saying anything about it. "I know I have no right to ask you of this," he admitted tautly, "but per favore, Ysabel—-give me another chance. Please. "
"This is about your duty, isn't it?" she asked stiltedly.
"No, dammit. It's about you and me—-it's always been you and me since Halloween five years ago." He tried to reach for her, but Ysabel stumbled back as if terrified by his touch, and her reaction cut him to the core. "Ysabel—-"
"It's over, okay?" she choked out. "And...and now, if you'll excuse me, I...I have somewhere to go."
Did she really think he would let her go just like that?
A gasp escaped her lips when Massimo's arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind in a chain-like embrace.
"Forgive me, Ysabel. Forgive me."
Tears tracked down her cheeks at the rawness of his tone. "There's nothing for me to forgive. You and Ynez—-"
"I don't give a damn about Ynez," Massimo bit out. "I never did—-"
His face whitened at the way Ysabel tore out of his hold at the words.
"Don't lie, Massimo. Please—-" Her voice broke, and his own fucking heart broke at the sound of it. "Just please don't."
"I'm not lying," he said fiercely. "I know I was stupid and blind all these five years—-"
"But you loved her anyway—-"
"I never did, Ysabel. It's why we've stopped having sex for over a year. It's why I've never called her my little cherry after the night I met you. I never loved her, and that's why I didn't feel a goddamn thing even when I saw her fucking another man."
Ysabel felt as if her world was spinning too fast for her. All this time, she had thought he had loved Ynez so much he was willing to forgive her sister for anything. But apparently, she was wrong about that, and she could only start crying again as Massimo cupped her cheeks with the most heartbreaking tenderness.
"I'm sorry I didn't realize it was you that night. I'm sorry I wasted five years with the wrong woman, and ended up hurting the one that truly mattered. I'm sorry I believed all of Ynez's lies—-"
She paled at his words, but he wouldn't let her pull away when she tried to break free.
"Massimo, when Ynez was in h-high school—-"
"I know, cieligina mia. I know you took the blame for her—-" His jaw clenched. "And the only reason she's still alive, after everything she's done to you is because she's your sister. But if you tell me you will not mind—-"
"I totally mind," she said quickly even as she fought back the urge to cry and laugh at the same time. Was this for real? Was Massimo really here saying—-
"I love you, Ysabel."
God. Oh God. Is this really happening?
"I have loved you from the first moment I saw you," Massimo said hoarsely. "And I will always love you. So please, please just give me a fucking chance before you marry another man—-"
This time, Ysabel did cry, and she did laugh as well. "Oh, Mas."
"I'm fucking serious—-"
"So am I."
And then she was taking the hands that were holding his face...and Massimo could only swallow hard as she kissed his knuckles on each hand.
"I missed you so much, Massimo. And I love you even more—-"
"Then will you promise to marry me," he asked tautly, "and not be someone else's wife?"
"Oh, Mas."
"I don't fucking know how to interpret that," he grated out.
"It can mean a lot of things," she teased shakily, "but right now it means...I only look like a bride in your eyes because you're biased. But actually...I'm someone else's bridesmaid, and—-"
Oh my gosh!
Massimo was stunned when Ysabel suddenly grabbed his hand and swiftly dragged him towards the doors leading to the hotel's largest ballroom. "We have to go, Kayra's literally going to kill me if I'm late—-"
She stopped speaking when Massimo suddenly whirled her around to face him.
"Are you talking about Kayra ...Petinos?" Massimo demanded.
Ysabel looked at him in surprise. "You know her, too?"
"Everyone who's famiglia knows her," he said flatly
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked uncertainly.
His fidanzata obviously didn't know this, but Kayra was the kind of woman who made even La Strega appear like a saint. Making a person disappear was child's play to the likes of Kayra, and when he thought about how he had been this fucking close to losing Ysabel completely if not for divine intervention—-
Grazie, Dio.
Ysabel was stunned when Massimo suddenly hauled her towards him, but before she could ask him why, he was already kissing her senseless, and oh, oh, oh...
Oh, Mas.
It was the loveliest and hottest kiss ever, and all because this time, both of them knew the truth. Both of them knew they were in love with each other, and both of them knew their love had started five years ago.