7. Isabella
ISABELLA
I stand in front of the mirror, analyzing every detail of my reflection. The emerald dress my mother selected hugs my curves, plunging low enough to be provocative without crossing into scandalous. Gold jewelry adorns my neck and wrists, Vitale family heirlooms meant to showcase our wealth.
"You look beautiful, Isabella." My mother hovers behind me, her voice soft as always. "Alessandro won't be able to take his eyes off you."
I meet her gaze in the mirror. "That's the point, isn't it? To parade me around like a prize mare at auction, even though the deal's already been struck."
She flinches. "This is an important night for our family."
"For Father's business interests, you mean."
I shouldn’t be so hard on her.
She’s been worn down by years of oppression.
And I can’t deny the curiosity I have about whether Alessandro will be able to take his eyes off me.
I’d tried to keep some distance between us at the wedding venue, and yet, we’d nearly kissed.
Or I think we did.
It sure felt like it when he stood so close, his gaze looking at my mouth with hunger.
Moments later, I’m downstairs in the ballroom that buzzes with New York's elite.
Politicians, businessmen, and criminals all mingle in their finest clothes, drinking champagne and networking.
Alessandro stands by the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand.
Even from across the room, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the distance he maintains as he speaks with two city councilmen.
His custom suit fits him perfectly, highlighting broad shoulders and a narrow waist.
Despite my efforts to control attraction, my pulse quickens.
Turns out I can’t keep my eyes off him.
He spots me, and something flickers across his face before his expression settles back into detachment.
"There you are." My father materializes beside me, gripping my elbow. "Remember what we discussed. Smile. Be charming."
"Of course, Father." I paste on my most convincing smile. "I'll be the perfect little puppet."
His fingers dig deeper. "Don't test me tonight, Isabella."
I try to hide the grimace from the pain my father is inflicting.
Alessandro approaches, and my father's demeanor transforms instantly to warmth and conviviality. "Alessandro! Here she is, your bride-to-be."
Alessandro's eyes never leave mine as he takes my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles.
The contact sends electricity racing up my arm.
"You look stunning," he says quietly.
"And you look like you'd rather be anywhere else." The words slip out before I can stop them.
To my surprise, the corner of his mouth quirks up. "That makes two of us."
My father clears his throat. "The photographer is waiting. We need pictures for tomorrow's papers."
As Alessandro leads me toward the photographer, his hand rests lightly on my lower back. He leans close, his breath warm against my ear.
“He hurt you.”
I glance up at him, surprised that he noticed and a little worried that I hadn’t hidden it well enough. “He’s eager to have this night go well.”
Alessandro doesn’t say anything, but for the first time in my life, I wonder if I have found someone who values me enough to protect me from my father or others who might seek to hurt me.
The photographer arranges us in a series of artificial poses.
Alessandro's arm around my waist, my hand on his chest, our faces close enough that I can smell his cologne.
It’s all I can do not to inhale and swoon.
"Last one," the photographer promises. "Give me something romantic."
Alessandro's eyes meet mine, questioning. I give a subtle nod. Might as well make this convincing. He cups my face with gentleness, his thumb brushing my cheek. For a moment, the room falls away and it's just us. I’m back at the wedding venue anticipating his lips pressing against mine.
"Perfect!" The photographer breaks the spell. "Beautiful couple."
Alessandro steps back, clearing his throat. "My brother just arrived. Would you like to meet him?"
"Your brother?" I blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Of course."
He guides me through the crowd toward the entrance where a man who could be Alessandro's younger twin scans the room with intense gray eyes.
I can see how people would fear him, but with a little girl in his arms, he doesn’t look fierce at all.
Beside him stands a petite woman with chestnut hair and a distinctly rounded belly.
"Adriano," Alessandro calls. The brothers embrace with the easy affection of men who trust each other implicitly.
"Isabella, meet my younger brother, Adriano, his wife, Eva, and their daughter, Mirabella."
Adriano's handshake is firm. "So you're the woman brave enough to take on Alessandro."
"Or foolish enough," I reply.
His brows shoot up in surprise, and then he laughs. "I like her already."
Eva embraces me, her pregnant belly pressing against me. "Welcome to the family. Don't worry, their bark is worse than their bite."
"Most of the time," Adriano adds, his arm sliding around Eva's shoulders with casual possessiveness.
He looks at her like she's hung the moon and stars, and it makes something twist inside me.
Not jealousy, exactly, but longing for something I know I can’t have.
"When are you due?" I ask Eva, nodding toward her belly.
Her face lights up. "Three more months."
“I’m going to have a brother,” Mirabella says. “Huh, Daddy?”
“That’s right, Angel.”
I’m struck by the love emanating from Adriano toward his family, and his family toward him.
I believe my parents love me, but not like this. Not with intensity and awe.
“I hope it’s okay that we brought her,” Eva says. “She still has difficulty being without one of us.”
I wonder what that’s about? Is it normal or did something happen? “Of course. I’m probably closer to her age than his, anyway.” I nod toward Alessandro, who looks at me in horror.
Adriano snickers. “Cradle robber.”
“What’s a cradle robber?” Mirabella asks.
“It’s your uncle Alessandro.”
Alessandro doesn’t say anything, but I swear inside, he’s telling his brother to fuck off.
The conversation flows easily as I watch Adriano, Eva, and Mirabella interact.
The casual touches, the private smiles, the way they finish each other's sentences.
This isn't a cold, dutiful marriage.
It’s a love match.
"You'll meet Luca and Katerina at the wedding," Alessandro says. "They live in Chicago, as do my sister and her husband."
"Valentina will talk your ear off," Adriano adds with affection.
"I'm looking forward to meeting them all," I say, and I genuinely mean it. I hate the idea of being sold off like chattel, but the idea of being part of a family that radiates genuine love and affection appeals to me.
Eva smiles at me warmly. "Family means everything to the Dantes. Once you're one of us, you're one of us forever."
I glance at Alessandro, finding him watching me with an unreadable expression.
"That sounds... nice," I admit. "Different from what I'm used to."
As the evening continues, I can't stop thinking about Adriano and Eva, how real their love seems.
For the first time since my father announced my engagement, I allow myself to wonder if perhaps my marriage might become more than just a business arrangement, after all.
The reception stretches on, a blur of fake smiles and shallow conversation.
Alessandro and I separate to mingle.
Every few minutes, I feel his gaze on me across the room.
When I glance back, his expression seems annoyed, almost irritated, as if I've done something wrong.
I must have imagined that moment of connection between us.
The photography session, the warmth in his eyes.
It was just a performance.
Or perhaps he doesn’t see me as becoming a part of the family as Eva has.
"You're making quite the impression," my father murmurs as he passes, nodding toward a circle of elderly men watching me. "Keep it up."
I sip champagne to avoid responding.
The bubbles tickle my throat.
Technically, I’m still too young to drink, which is odd considering I’m old enough to marry.
Of course, no one in this room cares that I’m under the drinking age.
The crimes committed by the men in this room far outweigh serving me champagne.
“This is a good match,” my father says with self-satisfaction.
He’s not alone in thinking that. Three different men have already commented on what strong sons I'll give Alessandro. As if my womb is the only thing of value I bring to this arrangement. Of course, Alessandro made it clear he doesn’t want children.
I wonder how that would play out with this crowd.
I watch Adriano guide Eva to a chair, his hand protectively at the small of her back.
The tenderness between them is unmistakable.
He married for love.
I have to remind myself that it isn't what Alessandro and I are doing.
We're forming a business merger, nothing more.
The ballroom suddenly feels suffocating.
Too many bodies, too much perfume, too many expectations.
I slip away while my father is deep in conversation with a judge.
No one notices as I duck through French doors onto the terrace.
The night air is cool, refreshing.
I move to the stone wall, staring out over the ocean.
Stars sparkle in the sky.
I inhale, then exhale, letting the stress go, a trick I learned in a yoga class.
The air shifts, energy zapping around me. I know without looking that it’s Alessandro.
“Your family seems happy,” I say without turning around. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.”
I glance over my shoulder, intrigued. “Not always. Your brother Adriano looks at Eva like she hung the moon. It’s refreshing. You don’t see that often in our world.”
He moves beside me, careful to keep his distance. “They earned their happiness.”
“By surviving you, you mean?” I can’t help my bluntness. “I’m told you threatened to kill your sister-in-law.”
A small smile flickers across his lips, and I can’t help but wonder what it means. “She wasn’t my sister-in-law at the time.” His gaze studies me, and I know he’s picking up on my probing. “You’ve been gathering intelligence.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I turn fully to face him. “I’m marrying one of the most dangerous men in New York. I’d be a fool not to learn what I can.”
His demeanor shifts slightly, and the tension eases for a moment. “You shouldn’t underestimate me, but neither should you fear me. I can be your hero as much as I can be your villain.”
“I don’t need a hero.”
He nods, as if he understands that I don’t want to be patronized or pandered to. I just want to be me.
I see my brother inside the ballroom and know he won’t like my being alone with Alessandro. “Walk with me.” I take Alessandro’s arm and lead him away from the open doors. “Somewhere my brother can’t see us.”
I feel the thrill of doing something so forbidden, especially knowing that propriety says we shouldn't be alone until after our wedding night.
“Should I be concerned that you’re luring me into an ambush?” His voice is teasing yet cautious.
“If I wanted you dead, Alessandro, I wouldn’t waste a perfectly good Valentino gown doing it.” I shoot him a playful smile.
We reach a stone bench partially hidden by flowering vines. I sit, smoothing out my dress as I cross my ankles.
“Your father and brother know we’re out here alone?” he asks, voice laced with concern.
“They don’t own me.” I pat the space beside me, inviting him closer. “Neither will you.”
“Is that what concerns you about our arrangement? That I’ll treat you as property?”
“Isn’t that what I am? A payment in your alliance?”
“We’ve been through this already, haven’t we?” The intensity in his gaze makes me pause.
“Our agreement doesn’t change the fact that I’m a commodity.” I look out over the gardens when he doesn’t respond. “Tell me something real. One thing that isn’t strategy or obligation.”
He’s silent for so long, I think he’s ignoring my question. But then he sighs. “I miss my father every day, but I’m terrified of becoming him.”
His confession shocks me. I look into his face and I can see he's being honest.
“Eva said you’re nothing like him,” I reply. “She said you’re better. Harder to read, but with more humanity beneath the surface.”
“Eva is being kind. Probably to keep you from getting too scared.”
“I’m not scared of you, although I guess I should be.” I shift closer, drawn to him.
“So why all the probing?”
“It doesn’t hurt to know the landscape. What I’ve learned tonight is that your brother and his family adore you. I watched them tonight. They admire and respect you.”
“I’m the Don.”
I shake my head. “Dons are usually respected out of fear. You are respected out of love. There’s a difference. Although I will say, I imagine Adriano pushes the limits.”
Alessandro laughs, and it breaks some of the tension. “That he does. And I’ll be honest, if pushed to choose me or Eva, I suspect I’d lose.”
I shrug. “That’s as it should be. A man should be willing to burn down the world for his woman.”
“Adriano and Luca would both do that.”
“I want what they have,” I say quietly, knowing it’s a silly notion considering Alessandro and I don’t love each other. In another life, he and I’d never be a couple. “Not just security or status. I want what your siblings found.”
“Love?” His voice goes flat, as if the idea repulses him. My heart sinks, and I know I can’t ask for love.
“Connection.” I reach for his hand, feeling a rush of warmth as I wrap my fingers around his. “I’ve been raised to be someone’s wife my whole life. But I’m more than that.”
He looks at me with intensity, and I can see the acknowledgement of my truth reflected in his gaze. “I think you are.”
His words make my heart race, and I let out a small smile. “I just hope I’m not too much for you.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” His gaze drops to my lips, just like at the wedding venue the other day. The air between us thickens, igniting a craving that I’m only just starting to understand.
I lean forward, my heart racing at my boldness. His eyes flutter closed...
“Isabella?” My brother’s voice shatters the moment. “What the hell is this?”
I spring back, knowing I look guilty.
"Father's looking for you," he says, eyes narrowed at Alessandro. "Your absence has been noticed."
The threat beneath his words is unmistakable. I stand quickly, smoothing my dress. "I needed air. Alessandro was kind enough to ensure I wasn't alone out here."
Enrico steps closer, his stance rigid. "How considerate of the Don to offer his protection."
Alessandro rises beside me, unfazed. The temperature between them drops several degrees. The whole point of this wedding is to defuse moments like this.
"I'll return immediately," I say, placing myself between them. "Please, Enrico."
My brother's fingers twitch at his sides. I’m not sure if he wants to pummel Alessandro or reach for his gun and shoot him. One wrong move, one misinterpreted word, and this garden could become a bloodbath.
I touch Alessandro's arm briefly. "Thank you for the company."
As I hurry past Enrico, I whisper fiercely, "Don't do anything stupid."