22. Isabella
CHAPTER 22
Isabella
“ Y ou’re taking me to see my sister?”
Elio stood next to the blacked-out SUV, keys in hand and a too-friendly smile on his face. “That a problem, piccola ?”
Literally nothing would keep me from seeing Gemma…but it was weird not to see Lorenzo waiting for me. He hadn’t let me out of his sight, practically, since he moved me into his room. “Where’s Lorenzo?”
Elio’s good-natured smile flattened out. “He’s busy. Do you want to go or not?” He opened the passenger side door. We stared at each other for a split-second, and then I scrambled into the SUV. “Good choice,” he said and closed the door behind me.
For the first twenty minutes, we sat in absolute silence, and then Elio rolled his shoulders. “The address Enzo gave to me is for a café,” he said. “Is the coffee as good as Starbucks?”
What is it with this man and coffee? “I didn’t have any last time,” I said. “But they seemed busy enough when I was there.”
Elio’s face scrunched in displeasure. “That doesn’t mean they have good coffee.”
“If you don’t like it, we can hit a Starbucks on the way home,” I said. “I won’t tell Amalia.”
He chuckled. “She’ll know anyway; she always does.” But he looked excited about the prospect of his wife being upset with him. I wanted to ask why and the question was on the tip of my tongue, but I ultimately decided against it. He either wouldn’t tell me anyway, or he would tell me way more than I ever needed to know about his and Amalia’s sex life.
“You’re not going to sit at the table with Gemma and me, right? Lorenzo waited outside last time.” The you should do that hung in the air between us.
“I have to come into the café,” he said, not needing to explain who passed that particular order along. “But, no, I won’t crowd you and your sister.”
“Thank you.”
He shrugged my words off. “Just be ready to get me a second coffee on the way back, all right?”
“You have an addiction.”
“Being addicted to caffeine is better than being addicted to speed,” he said so casually that I almost missed it.
I glanced at him. “Speed?”
Elio hummed. “Call it my rebellious youth,” he said. “Shit was easy to get with a Vitali last name, and I’ve always been loud and talkative, so it was even easier to hide.”
I kept waiting to be shocked that he so casually admitted to being a former addict, but in the kind of lifestyle I imagined he lived, it actually made a lot of sense. “What made you stop?” Because if I had to do half of the shit that he did, I didn’t think I’d be able to.
“Enzo,” he said easily. “He wanted me to be more than a drug runner, and I couldn’t be what he needed if I was always strung out.”
That was admirable, actually. “Does Amalia know about it?”
“Of course. Everyone does. People talk, you know?”
I chuckled at the idea of the scary Cosa Nostra being filled with gossiping old biddies. “Caffeine is much better,” I said after a moment, and Elio hummed in agreement.
It was the extent of our conversation, but as we pulled up to the café—and Elio, like Lorenzo, parked right in front without a care in the world—I felt a little more settled. I knew more about him than the brute that I was first introduced to.
It wasn’t much, but it helped.
Gemma was still working when we walked into the café. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. “You said you would text me next time,” she scolded as she came around the counter.
“Sorry,” I said as she threw her arms around my neck. She smelled like coffee and pastries, and my throat was suddenly squeezing shut. I blinked back the tears that burned at the back of my eyes. “We just happened to be on this side of the city.”
Her eyes drifted to Elio. “‘We,’ huh?” she asked. The corner of her mouth curled upward. “Is this your boyfriend, Isabella?”
I laughed a little too hard at that and Gemma looked at me like I had grown a second head. I forced myself to stop. “This is Elio,” I said.
Elio smiled at her, and while it seemed totally natural, I knew that it wasn’t his real smile. He was painting on a persona right in front of my eyes. “Isabella and I work at the same company.”
Gemma’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re a nurse too?”
He shook his head. “I do security.”
“An urgi-care needs security?”
“I’m working for that family now, remember?” I asked.
“Oh, right,” she said with a nod. “You’re some kind of home-health aide to some rich dude.”
“Right.” I gestured to Elio. “He works security for the same family. We were on an errand in the city when I begged him to stop here for a bit.”
The lies spun so quickly that I had to admit I was impressed with myself. But I hated it too. My father had spent most of my life lying to me in one form or fashion, and for a long time, I believed him because I had to think he was getting better. That he would clean himself up enough to put our family back together. I knew better now, obviously, but all of his lies had left a bitter taste in my mouth. The fact that I was able to weave this false reality for Gemma so easily made my stomach turn.
“Well, let me get you guys some coffee, and then I can go on my break and join you for a bit,” Gemma offered.
Once she had our orders, Elio settled at a table that was far enough away that we had the semblance of privacy. “He’s really cute,” Gemma said, pitching her voice low in case her words carried.
“He’s married.”
She rolled her eyes. “A legal document doesn’t make him less attractive.”
Yes, it does , I thought. Or, maybe, it was walking in on him beating someone nearly to death. That had definitely made him less attractive to me. “I’m friends with his wife,” I said. “He’s basically furniture.”
I heard Elio scoff, and I did my absolute best not to look his way. I was with my sister, and I was bound and determined to enjoy the time I had with her. “What about the guy who brought you here last time? Who was he?”
“You saw Lorenzo?”
“Hot, kind of scary guy in the expensive car? Yeah, I saw him. Does he work with you too?”
“He’s my boss.”
Gemma blinked. “ He’s the guy who needed a home-health aide?” she asked, incredulous. Damnit . I shouldn’t have said anything. “What’s wrong with him?”
Besides the fact that he’s psycho, but I keep fucking him anyway? “I can’t say. That would be a HIPPA violation.”
She hummed and, thankfully, let it go. We had a few more minutes to chat back and forth before she had to go back to work. “Text me soon, okay?” she asked, and her eyes flicked over to Elio. “Maybe we could get lunch or something next time? Without a chaperone?”
I formed my lips into something akin to a smile. “For sure.”
We hugged again, and Elio and I left the café. “Your sister is?—”
“Don’t,” I barked at him. Whatever he thought of her didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to hear it. “Let’s just go home.” Something flickered across Elio’s face, and he glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist.
“We have some time,” he said. “Is there anywhere else you want to go?”
There were a million places that came to mind, but something about his question pinged wrong in my mind. “Let’s just go back.”
Elio wasn’t happy, clearly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, we got back into the SUV and headed back to Scarsdale. This time, there was no talking, and the tension in the car was so thick that I was nearly choking on it.
It wasn’t until we pulled into the driveway, and I climbed out, that I was able to breathe again. Elio seemed to be dragging his feet, but I didn’t need him to be in my back pocket to go inside.
Amalia wasn’t in the kitchen when I came through the door, but I did hear voices in the dining room. I walked through the butler’s pantry and stopped dead in the doorway.
Lorenzo was seated at the head of the table; Amalia and Damian were to his immediate right and left. But practically sitting in his lap was a woman…a girl, really. She was fluttering her eyelashes and giving Lorenzo bedroom eyes.
Had Lorenzo sent me out with Elio so that he could entertain some little girl for the afternoon? Anger flickered through me, and I shoved the ugly feeling in my chest as far away as I possibly could. I had no right to feel such a thing.
The girl threw her head back and giggled, as if Lorenzo had said something incredibly funny. She ran her fingers over his arm, and something in my gut just…snapped.
“Who the hell is she?” I hadn’t meant to shout, but my voice boomed, bouncing off the walls.
Damnit.