9. Isabella
nine
Isabella
I lean back in my chair. The buzz of the people working in the office disappears as I look at the screen.
I have found nothing I can use to build a case against Salvatore Catalano. Other than J. Foster’s blog, who is not available to talk to me yet. I found his direct email and asked him if he could answer a few questions about the articles on his blog.
Other than that, all of my research was a failure. I even went so deep that I dug into Senator Roger Wilson’s life, his wife's family, and still all I could find was that Salvatore was one of his sponsors, and unfortunately for me, everything was legitimate. I even got a deeper dig into La Bella, the Italian company that turned out to be a company that produces luxury furniture.
Cece has been MIA, and it is not helping that Logan hasn’t been in the office this week. I asked his assistant about his whereabouts, but the only answer I got was that he is working from home. I don’t want to make a fuss and bring attention to them if I don’t have to, but if I don’t hear from her soon, I might need to ask Mr. Hall for information.
I suppress a groan from too many questions circling my head as I switch my computer off; I need a break. It’s time for lunch, anyway. I pick up my bag and refocus my thoughts as my heels click on the dark marble floor in the entryway of the offices.
My destination is the place I’ve visited for the last couple of weeks, usually twice a day. A small restaurant across from the Lotus Hotel. I always sit in the same place near the window so I can see who comes in and out but not be seen. I was even looking into renting a place somewhere across from the hotel, but nothing was available, and it’s not like I can force someone to evacuate.
I’m so frustrated and lost in my thoughts that I almost miss the black Escalade in front of my work building as I exit into the humid air of the city. The mountain of a man waiting in front of the car is the same man who was with Salvatore that night at the fundraiser, Dante.
“Miss Roberts, if you would come with me. My boss has an important matter he wants to address with you.”
I look into his black eyes that warn me that I will be escorted to Salvatore Catalano.
“Do I have a choice?”
His brows raise. “I’d prefer this to be easy. One way or another, Mr. Catalano will see you.”
Dante is scary, with his broad chest and the large muscles under his black clothes—and the scar across his lips. I’m not afraid, though. I have been in these situations many times.
I look around, not to escape, but for someone who will be a possible witness if something happens to me. Someone who could tell with whom I went and what kind of car I got into.
“I would prefer it if you don’t run. This is a peaceful request, and I would hate it if I needed to track you down.” Dante’s calm voice turns my attention to his solemn face like he does this every day.
I sigh, and without a fight, I escape the sun and slide onto the leather seat of the air-conditioned car. At least this time I will have permission to be inside, and who knows, maybe I will discover things I need to know.
During the short drive, Dante doesn’t say a word as he sits across from me. His stern gaze is on his phone. I debate asking him why his boss wants to see me, but Dante is just doing as he’s told, so I leave all questions and turn my attention through the tinted window, preserving my energy for when I see Salvatore Catalano.
I’m ushered into the modern space of the hotel, my heels clicking on the floor as we pass the lobby and head down the hall the same way I walked that night. The night I can’t get out of my head.
Dante doesn’t knock, he just leads me into the office. I swallow the knot in my throat before entering.
I hear him before I see him, and my stomach flutters at his voice. I take a deep breath and concentrate on the person in front of me.
“Thank you, Dante,” Salvatore says before Dante leaves the office, closing the door and leaving me with the six-feet-three wall of a man. I know that from everything I read about him since the last time I was in this room.
His blue eyes eat me up as he looks at me, eyeing me like I’m his next meal. Like I’m his prey.
“Miss Roberts, how nice of you to come.” He offers his hand. I look suspiciously at it before offering him mine. He takes it and places a chaste kiss on my knuckles.
I narrow my eyes at him. Why is he kissing my hand? Last time he saw me, he would have killed me if he could have. But that memory is erased by another one. One that happened not too long ago in this office. One where his hands were all over me and those lips that I can’t look away from were touching my skin.
I clear my throat and look anywhere but at him. “You didn’t leave me much choice in that matter.”
“Indeed, I didn’t. Or maybe I did.” He cocks his eyebrow. There is amusement in his voice that’s making me uncomfortable. Like he knows something I don’t.
“Please take a seat.” He gestures at the couch in front of his desk, not waiting for my answer.
I hurry to sit just to avoid looking at those lips because I do not need a reminder of that kiss at my apartment.
“I have a very important matter to discuss with you. But first, I want you to know that whatever led to today’s action is only your doing.”
My brows furrow, and just as I want to ask what he means, he shakes his head from where he is sitting on the edge of his desk in front of me.
“I explicitly told you to stay away from my business. You just wouldn’t listen.” He tsks and shakes his head. “So, now we’ll have a heart-to-heart conversation.” He takes a folder from his desk before pushing from his spot and taking a seat next to me. Passing me the folder, he says. “Open the file. The contents of it is intriguing. Enthralling, actually. You could write an article about it.” Sarcasm pours out of him like a poison.
I eye him suspiciously before I take the folder and shift uncomfortably at the closeness between us. He didn’t leave any space between us when he sat down, and not even the coolness of the air conditioning can calm my heated reaction to him.
I open the folder and read. Turning the pages, my heart stops, my breathing quickens, and all the blood drains from my face when I see the last contents of the folder. This is my information, my life. Pictures of me in various situations at college, at work, with my friends. Detailed reports of my life since I came to the US. But what shocks me most is the last page of the report with proof of what I ran away from. What I wanted so badly to eradicate from my life. I fist the folder in my hands; it’s too thick to crumple, but I want to, like if I do, it will all go away. Salvatore’s voice returns my attention to him.
“As you see, this information is too good for me not to use. There are so many people who will give me whatever I want for this information.” A devious grin crosses his face as he observes me. He leans into my personal space, his breath touching my cheek as he speaks. “But I’m willing to make a compromise.”
The alarm bells in my head are loud. I look at him, my eyes searching his blue ones because I’m afraid to ask. When he doesn’t say what he wants, I swallow the lump in my throat.
“What do you mean?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Before we get to that part, be aware that if you ever use any information you learn about me or my business against me, I will destroy you.”
He will destroy me?
What kind of man wants to make a compromise with a threat? There is screaming inside my head, but before I can wrap my head around the situation, he continues.
“Do you understand?” His cold, firm voice sends chills down my body.
Averting my eyes from him, I bite down on my lip, debating my answer. I can feel his stare deep down in my core. The heat of his gaze is like a magnet, and I look at him.
“Yes.” I don’t even recognize my shaky voice. But I don’t dwell on that, as I’m drowning in his intense look.
“This will benefit us both, Bella.” I close my eyes to the pet name. Only one person used to call me that. The one person I swore not to become.
“Does the name Federico Sabatini mean anything to you?” My whole body stiffens and my eyes pop wide open. He doesn’t miss my reaction. “Ah, so you know him. Well, I have to find who he is in a less-than-pleasant way as he sent men to threaten me.”
A thousand questions pop into my head. But the few that interest me the most are how are the two men connected? And what the heck does Federico want from Salvatore? Is Federico here? If he is, would he recognize me?
I didn’t know Federico that well. I met him a few times for a couple of minutes and saw him from a distance. That was it. I don’t have to ask questions because Salvatore keeps speaking.
He leans back into his seat, his eyes on the wall opposite us where a dartboard hangs. “He wants something from me. Something I will never give him, no matter the cost.”
I sober and find my strength again. I shift a little in my seat. “What does he want?”
He chuckles darkly. “My business. My family.”
I shake my head slightly. “What does that mean? What does family business mean?” I don’t debate my next question because we are already long past that since he knows my real name and who my father is. “Is the family what I think it is?”
He stays silent as he looks at me, like he’s debating his answers. “Family business is just that. Family. Something I try to separate from my business. The rest you shouldn’t worry about.”
“So, you’re the don of La Cosa Nostra.” I lean forward, my forearms on my knees.
For a second, amusement flickers in his eyes. “You weren’t sure before?”
“No. I’ve been searching and found nothing other than a few blog articles from an allegedly angry, fired editor. You have been very successful at hiding who you are.”
“I learned from the best,” Salvatore explains, killing the momentum of my inner celebration that I was right by taking a piece of my caramel hair between his fingers and playing with it. I still, his closeness taking me back to that night. My heart skips a beat.
“Back to our compromise.” His smooth voice vibrates through my body, making me want to run far away from him. “I will give you two choices. I would advise you to choose wisely.” His warning slices through my bones. “Because sometimes, choices can bring our downfall.” He takes the same strand of the hair that was between his fingers and brings it to his nose, inhaling the scent. His features change and his eyes darken before turning his attention back to me. “Choice number one, I send you back to your father. I negotiate my terms with him that include his foster son Sabatini and getting him out of here, or…” he looks at me with a mischievous look in his eyes, “you marry me, and I make an alliance with your father. Either way, I get what I need. You, however, will need to decide what is best for you.” All the air in my lungs leaves as I stare at him, the shock of his words hitting me so hard that I can’t breathe.
“NO!” The word comes out of my mouth without thinking.
I can’t marry him. He is everything I despise. The life he is offering me is the one I promised myself never to be part of. There is no compromise in this.
I stand and pace the room. What do I do? I can’t agree to any of this. I will not accept it. My hands fly to my hair. The attraction I feel toward this man doesn’t matter. Any possible feeling I had for him disappeared the moment I got the confirmation of who he is.
“Let me make this easier for you. If you agree to marriage, we can negotiate the terms. Unless you miss your father so much that you want to see him.”
I stop and turn to him. “I need to think.”
I need to get out of here.
I turn to take my purse, only to be seized by him. He stands in front of me with a vicious grin on his face, his eyes still dark, the blue no longer visible.
“I’m afraid I’m going to need an answer now.”
“You can’t be serious.” My voice breaks. I plead with him with my eyes, a flicker of hope still burning inside me.
“Of course I’m serious. I’m not laughing, am I? I assure you I’m very serious when it comes to my business.” I take a step back from him and grip my purse in the hope of calming down. “You are a smart woman, Bella. You might think you can escape, but that will not be happening. Because no matter what you may want to choose, you will stay here, and I can be sure you won’t disappear again .”
The flicker of hope I felt is switched off by his words, and I glare at him. His emphasis on disappearing again did not go unnoticed.
I can’t do this.
I start to panic, but I close my eyes and take deep breaths to control my anxiety. When I’ve calmed myself, I sit down on the sofa, my eyes assessing him, calculating his reaction.
“I don’t want this life. Why would you force me to do something I don’t want? I ran away from this life, and I don’t want to go back to it.”
“It’s not about what you want. That choice was taken away from you the day you were born as your father’s daughter. However, I can make this life bearable for you. I will give you a choice to leave when I have reached what I want.”
No one leaves this life. The only way out is death.
Like she did.
But Salvatore said I can negotiate. Maybe he is a man of his word.
“How can I trust you? We both know the truth. Once you are in this life, there is only one way out. Or am I wrong? I can’t possibly believe anyone would have a choice to leave this life. Won’t you be scared I’ll betray you?”
He looks at me from where he is sitting on the edge of his desk, studying me, and then a laugh escapes him. “Oh, Bella, you think you could speak out? Try and see if anyone will believe you.”
Anger rises inside me because I know what he says is true. “Why wouldn’t they?” I challenge.
“Because I have connections that will make anything I want disappear, including you, if you try. And this is not a threat, it’s a promise.” His words are so easy, so simple, but the meaning of them is strong.
I believe him when he says this is not just a threat. And deep down, I have a feeling there is more to this. The feeling in my gut says there are unspoken things left, but what?
“And don’t forget if you decide to go with the marriage choice, we still can negotiate terms.”
I laugh and start pacing again, feeling like a caged animal. “What terms? Please enlighten me, because I can’t understand how I can negotiate the terms of something I don’t want to agree to.”
“Well, how about this? I will divorce you afterwards, after I have my alliance. Second, I don’t plan to cage you. You will still be free to live your life as you please, but a little disclaimer here. Being my wife will come with specific expectations that we will discuss if you choose that road.”
I keep quiet for a while. I just stand there glaring at him.
“No,” I say firmly.
He can’t make me. I can fight my past.
I’m a grown-up. He can’t make me go back.
I clench my fists and take a step toward him. “You can’t make me choose. I’m going to leave now, and you are going to forget who I am, as I will forget about you. I will never write or research about you. I will even make it my mission that you never be mentioned.” This time, I take my purse and march toward the exit.
“If you walk out that door, my offer will no longer be valid. Which means I will send you to your father.” Salvatore’s voice echoes in my ears, but I don’t listen. “There are two of my men outside who will not so nicely escort you to my jet and you will be shipped back to him. So before you open that door, think again.”
My hand stops on the handle, but I don’t waver. I take a breath and open it. He can’t just ship me back like I’m cargo.
Unfortunately for me, he was telling the truth. Behind the door, there are two men. They look at me, and when one of them takes a step forward, I take a step back and slam the door.
My head falls against the door and the tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I force them away, and through gritted teeth, I give Salvatore my answer. “Fine, let’s negotiate.”
Two hands appear by each side of my head, and I feel the warmth of Salvatore behind me, caging me. He speaks in my ear, sending chills down my body.
“Sorry, Bella. That offer has just expired. The new one says that you have to prepare yourself because in two weeks, you will become my wife, and on my terms.”
What the hell did I get myself into?