18. Isabella
eighteen
Isabella
My heels click on the granite floor as I walk back into the suite. A feeling of uneasiness followed me since the moment I woke up. Lisa’s rambling in the office only distracted me even more.
I come to a halt the moment I see a naked, sculptured body with only a towel covering his lower half. Water drips from his hair, trailing down his defined back. The angry red scar from the gunshot is on display. His firm backside is picture-perfect under that towel. He turns slowly toward me, his face changing from annoyed to emotionless. My eyes assess his muscular front, with a small amount of hair on his chest. A tattoo of a bullet with a ribbon around it that says: loyalty, honor, and respect covers the left side of his ribs just below his heart. A trail of hair runs from his belly button down to his groin. He is standing in the living room with a drink in his hand.
Two weeks have passed since I last saw Salvatore. During the day, I have been avoiding him, using my job as an excuse, staying there until late at night.
He never asked where I was or why I was late. Not that he graced me with his presence. I was away during the day, and he was away during the night. He never slept in our suite. My new shadows, Valentino and Bastian, are the ones who are in contact with him. They never leave my side.
I snap my eyes back to his face. I’m not looking at his body. What happened in his car will not happen again. Especially not after what happened later that night when he showed me who he really is. After I took care of him, he left and came back a different person, someone I hadn’t met in the few weeks before we got married. What he did was not right, but surprisingly, it didn’t scare me away. On the contrary, it made me want to solve the puzzle of Salvatore Catalano. One I never stopped trying to solve, even though I told him I would stop my research on him. I was conflicted about my feelings and decisions. If I thought I’d connected with him somehow, I was wrong.
But I chose. I chose the monster I didn’t know; the one I made a deal with instead of the one I knew.
I did lots of thinking in the past two weeks; I questioned every decision I made. I even played with the thought of getting on a plane and ending this arrangement.
I couldn’t.
Something always pulled me back here. Back to him, even if he was avoiding me. He wanted to show me who he really was, and I wanted to solve the puzzle that had been taking over my mind since the first day I met him. I wanted to see the lengths he would go to, but we were interrupted.
There is something between us, and it isn’t just the deal we made.
I’ve met a couple of men since I came here. I went on dates; I searched for the connection and love I promised my mama I would. But something was missing, and I couldn’t find it.
I filled my time with taking down scum that corrupt cops couldn’t.
I found a purpose, so I didn’t feel empty.
That all went down the drain the moment he touched me. My need to find out more about him had nothing to do with me wanting to take him down because I suspected he was a mafia don. No, it had to do with the way he made me feel that night in his office and again in my apartment.
“You were avoiding me,” I say.
He finishes his drink before narrowing his eyes at me. “You did the same.”
Feeling strong, I walk toward him. “I did.” I stop when I reach him. I wait. For what, I don’t know. Maybe an apology, but will I get one?
We stand like that for a while, and you could cut the tension with a knife. He speaks first.
“What I did was wrong, and I apologize. I unleashed my anger on you. It won’t happen again.”
I stare at him, observing him like a schoolteacher does a troubled student.
“What made you angry?” I ask, not accepting his apology yet.
He takes a step toward me. “Are you seriously asking? We were shot at. I got injured. And you ask me why I was angry?”
I shake my head. “You came back stained with blood. You came back a different person.”
“Do not analyze me, Isabella. You don’t know me. There is more to me than I let you see. That is all you need to know. Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Is that right? Do you want to hurt me? Or is that just a way to keep me quiet so you don’t have to explain yourself?”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m not playing this game, Isabella.” He takes a step back and tries to pass me.
Before he can escape, I add, “Avoiding me will not change how you feel. You can’t avoid me forever.”
He turns from the entrance of his room. “True, but before I come close to you again, I need to tame my monsters or you will get hurt.”
I look at the phone that has been ringing all day. The number is not local, and I know who it is. That’s the reason I’m avoiding answering it.
I need some answers from Salvatore before I even think of answering that call. It rings again; I groan and turn the damn thing off. I may as well pack my things and go home for the day.
Home for now.
But Salvatore will not be there, and I need these calls to stop. Since he is my ally of sorts, I need his help. Even if he doesn’t want to talk to me. What he said earlier this week made me want to know more about his demons, and I hate myself for wanting that.
He trapped me in this and brought back my own demons, but still, I need his help.
It’s almost ten p.m. when I pack my stuff and make my way toward the SUV where Valentino, a tall and bulky man with an emotionless face and dark eyes is waiting for me.
He doesn’t enter the offices; there is enough security there. However, he has live images provided by Hall Media on his screen in his SUV. How did he get access? I can only imagine.
I stop in front of him. “Do you know where I can find Salvatore?”
“Probably at the club, but I will need to ask him if I can bring you there first.”
I laugh at that. “I’m not a child. I can go wherever I want.” I pass him and go to my silver BMW. Turning the engine on, I drive toward my destination. I probably should have listened to him, but I don’t care.
From the review mirror, I can see Valentino following me. I wanted to ditch him, but he already knows where I’m going. I park on the side of the road, exit the car, and walk toward the club’s entrance without waiting for Valentino.
When I get to the entrance, I realize it’s Friday and the line is long. Too long for me to wait. Add to that I’m not dressed for the club. I skip the line and come to face two mountains of people; they are even bulkier than Valentino. I roll my eyes at their scowls.
“Miss, you need to go back in line.” Two barely dressed young women enter from the side of where I stand. Surely, they were not in the line.
“What about them?” I return their scowl.
“They are dressed appropriately. This is a nightclub, not an office. The bar down the street is where your people gather.”
He obviously has no clue who he is talking to, but how could he?
“I’m here to see Salvatore, and you’d better let me through before you regret it.” He laughs sarcastically, making me angry and even more on edge.
“Nice try. You want to know how many of your sort come here and ask to see him? Dozens. Don’t embarrass yourself anymore, lady.”
Just as I want to say more to him, Valentino approaches from behind me.
“Let her through. She is his wife.”
The bouncer’s face goes white. “Sorry, Mrs. Catalano. I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.” I march past them, shaking the interaction with the guard off.
The sound of music pounding in the club hurts my ears as I walk down the stairs to the main floor of the club. The purple and blue lights light up the people dancing in the middle to the music.
I walk around the dance floor, my eyes searching for Salvatore. I come to a halt when a hand wraps around my waist, and hot breath tickles my ear, barely a whisper over the music.
“You shouldn’t be here, Bella.”