Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
It's been three days since Enzo left and I'm not living anymore, I'm just existing, moving through the hours like a ghost in my own life.
I haven't left my room. I haven't eaten more than a few bites of whatever Alessia or Luca bring me and leave outside my door. I haven't spoken to anyone except to say I'm fine when they knock, which is a lie so transparent even I don't believe it when I say it.
I sleep when exhaustion takes me and I cry when I'm awake and the rest of the time I just lie in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying that last conversation in Matteo's study over and over, trying to find the moment where everything went wrong, the exact second where I could have said something different that would have changed the outcome.
I never find it.
Because there was no right thing to say. No magic words that would have made Matteo understand or made Enzo stay or made any of this hurt less.
My phone is on the nightstand with Enzo's security map saved in the files, and sometimes I open it just to look at it, just to have something he touched, something he made for me, some tangible proof that the last few weeks actually happened and weren't just a dream I'm waking up from.
He hasn't called.
He hasn't texted.
I don't know where he is or what he's doing or if he's thinking about me the way I'm thinking about him constantly, every second, every breath.
I just know he's gone and I'm here and the space between those two facts is destroying me.
There's a knock on my door.
"Isabella." Alessia's voice, gentle and concerned. "I brought you breakfast."
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat something."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine." A pause. "Please let me in."
"I just need to be alone right now."
I hear her sigh softly and then her footsteps retreat down the hallway, and I roll over and press my face into my pillow and the crying starts again because it always starts again, it never really stops, it just pauses long enough for me to catch my breath before the next wave hits.
The knock comes again later.
I don't know how much later. Time has stopped meaning anything. Could be an hour, could be ten minutes, could be days for all I know.
"Isabella." Different voice this time. Dante.
I don't answer.
"I know you're in there. I need you to open the door."
"Go away."
"I can't do that."
"I don't want to see anyone."
"Matteo needs to see you. It's important."
Something in his tone makes me sit up. Not urgent exactly, but serious in a way that cuts through the fog.
"What happened?" My voice comes out hoarse from crying.
"I can't tell you through the door. You need to come with me."
"I don't want to—"
"Isabella." His voice is gentler now, patient. "I know you're hurting. I know these last few days have been hell. But something's happened and Matteo needs you downstairs and I need you to trust me enough to open this door."
I stare at the door for a long moment.
Then I get up and unlock it.
Dante is standing in the hallway and his face shows a flicker of concern or pity or both that makes me acutely aware of how I must look.
I haven't showered since Enzo left. I'm still wearing the same clothes I was wearing when he walked out.
My eyes are swollen and red and my hair is a mess and I probably look exactly like what I am.
Someone falling apart.
"Hey," he says softly. "You okay?"
The question is so absurd I almost laugh.
"No," I say honestly. "I'm really not."
"I know." He takes a step closer. "And I'm sorry. For all of it. For what happened with Enzo, for what Matteo did, for—" He stops. "I'm just sorry."
Tears blur my vision again and I wipe them away angrily.
"What does Matteo want?"
"He needs to talk to you. Something came up with the De Lucas and—" He pauses. "You should probably change first. And maybe wash your face."
"I don't care what I look like."
"I know you don't. But they're downstairs. Salvatore and Vittorio. And you might care about looking strong in front of them even if you don't care about anything else right now."
The words land with unexpected weight.
The De Lucas are here.
Which means something bad happened. Something bad enough that Salvatore came to the compound in person instead of calling.
"Give me fifteen minutes," I say quietly.
He nods, takes a step back and I close the door.
I move on autopilot, stripping off my clothes, getting in the shower, standing under the water and letting it run hot until my skin turns pink. I wash my hair, scrub my face, try to make myself look like a person instead of a wreck.
When I get out I dry off and find clean clothes, black jeans and a simple top, nothing fancy but presentable. I pull my hair back wet and look at myself in the mirror.
I look tired. Hollow. Like something vital has been scooped out and the shell is all that's left.
But I look functional.
Good enough.
I open the door and Dante is still waiting.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Let’s go." I nod.
We walk through the house in silence and with every step my dread builds, settling heavy in my stomach, because Dante's face is too carefully neutral, the house is too quiet and something is very wrong.
When we reach Matteo's study I can hear voices inside.
Raised voices.
Angry voices.
Dante opens the door without knocking and we step inside and the scene that greets me makes my breath catch.
Matteo is behind his desk with his arms crossed and his face carved from stone. Salvatore De Luca is standing in front of the desk with Vittorio beside him, both of them turn when we enter and the expressions on their faces make my skin crawl.
Fury. Disgust. Cold calculation.
"Isabella." Salvatore's voice is polite ice. "How good of you to join us."
I don't respond, just move to stand beside Matteo's desk, and Dante positions himself near the door, watching.
"What's going on?" I ask Matteo.
"Show her," Salvatore says before Matteo can answer.
Matteo's jaw tightens as Vittorio turns his laptop around on the desk.
The screen is paused on security footage.
Mall footage.
I can see myself in the frame, and even before he hits play, I know with sick certainty what I'm about to watch.
He presses play.
The footage shows me and Enzo entering the mall, walking through stores, laughing together in the bookstore, and my heart is already sinking because I know where this is going, I know what comes next.
The camera angle switches.
Now it's the clothing store. Now it's me holding up the scarf. Now it's Enzo standing close, saying something I can't hear. Now it's me walking toward the dressing rooms and Enzo following.
The timestamp runs.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen minutes.
Vittorio comes, sometime later I go out and when I emerge my hair is messed up and my lips are swollen. When Enzo leave a few minutes after his shirt is wrinkled and anyone with eyes can see exactly what we were doing in there.
The footage ends.
The silence in the room is deafening.
"That mall was supposed to be closed," Salvatore says, his voice cold and measured.
"Closed to the public for your security, Isabella.
But apparently someone forgot to turn off the security cameras.
And that footage was automatically uploaded to the cloud storage system the mall uses.
And this morning, one of my people who has access to that system saw it. "
My stomach drops to my feet.
"So you can imagine my surprise," Salvatore continues, "when I was reviewing security protocols for my future daughter-in-law and discovered that she was fucking her bodyguard in a dressing room just days before her wedding."
The vulgarity of it makes me flinch.
"Watch your fucking mouth," Matteo says quietly, and there's warning in his voice.
"I'll watch my mouth when you explain to me how this happened.
" Salvatore's voice rises slightly. "How you let your sister carry on an affair right under your nose.
How you assigned the one man who clearly couldn't be trusted to keep his hands to himself as her personal guard.
How you made a mockery of this alliance and this arrangement. "
"I didn't know," Matteo says flatly.
"You didn't know." Salvatore's laugh is bitter. "You expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe you had no idea your sister was spreading her legs for—"
"Finish that sentence and I'll put a bullet in your head." Matteo's voice is deadly calm.
Salvatore stops immediately.
The tension in the room ratchets up to dangerous levels.
Vittorio speaks for the first time, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "Where is he? Where is Bianchi?"
"Gone," Matteo says. "I fired him. He's not welcome in this house or this family anymore."
"You fired him? I didn’t expect you’d be so soft, Matteo. In our world something like this should end up with a bullet." Vittorio takes a step forward. "He dishonored her. He dishonored this arrangement. He needs to answer for that."
"Don’t mock me if you don’t want to be the one ending with a bullet, Vittorio. He's gone," Matteo repeats. "That's all you need to know."
"We had an agreement," Salvatore says, and his voice has gone cold again, calculated. "A marriage. An alliance. Built on the understanding that Isabella was—" He stops, choosing his words carefully. "Suitable."
The implication makes my face burn with shame and fury.
"I am suitable," I snap. “What I did or didn't do with Enzo doesn't change anything about this arrangement except that I don't want it anymore."
All eyes turn to me.
"You don't want it," Vittorio repeats slowly.
"No. I don't want to marry you. I never wanted to marry you. I was willing to go through with it for my family but I'm not willing anymore."
"Isabella—" Matteo starts.
"No." I look at him directly. "You told me in your study that I wouldn't have to marry Vittorio if I didn't want to. You said you wouldn't force me. So I'm telling you now, in front of everyone, that I don't want this. I don't want to marry him. I want to call it off."
Matteo looks at me for a long moment, and I can see him running calculations, weighing consequences, deciding. I can see he’s furious because of the way I decided to say it but won’t do anything about it now.
"The wedding is off," he says finally, turning back to Salvatore. "Isabella has made her choice and I support it. I won't force her into a marriage she doesn't want."
Salvatore's face goes dark.
"You're making a mistake," he says quietly. "This alliance was the only thing keeping your family stable against the O'Rourkes. Without it, you're vulnerable. Exposed. And I will not stand by and watch you insult my family this way without consequences."
"What consequences?" Matteo asks, and his voice is dangerously soft.
"The De Lucas will withdraw all support.
All resources. All protection. You will be on your own against the O'Rourkes and anyone else who sees weakness.
" Salvatore leans forward slightly. "And we will make it known to everyone in our network that the Romanos cannot be trusted to honor their agreements.
That Matteo Romano let his sister's pussy dictate family policy. "
Matteo's hands curl into fists on his desk.
"Get out of my house," he says quietly.
"Gladly." Salvatore straightens. "But understand this, Romano. You just made an enemy today. And you're going to regret it."
He turns and walks out with Vittorio behind him, the door slams hard enough to rattle the frame.
The silence that follows is suffocating.
I'm shaking, my hands trembling at my sides, my breathing too fast.
"Matteo—" I start.
"Don't." My brother stands up. "Just don't."
He comes around the desk and I back away.
"You need to leave," he says slowly. "You need to get out of the country for a while. Let this blow over. Let me handle the fallout."
"Wait, what?"
"Europe. I'm sending you to Europe. Tomorrow morning. It's already arranged."
"No!" The word comes out sharp and panicked. "No, I'm not leaving. I'm not running away."
"You're not running away. You're being smart. The De Lucas are furious and the O'Rourkes will use this to their advantage and you being here makes you a target." His voice is firm but not unkind. "You need to go somewhere safe while I figure out how to fix this."
"I don't want to go to Europe." Tears are streaming down my face now. "I don't want to leave. Not now. Not when Enzo is—" I can't finish.
“It's not safe for you here, Isabella, this is not up for debate." He growls even though his eyes soften a bit.
"It's not safe for me anywhere without him!" The words come out broken and desperate.
"Please don’t fight me on this." He reaches out and pulls me into a hug and I collapse against him, crying into his shoulder. "You have to go. Just for a little while. Until things settle."
I cry against him and he holds me and neither of us says anything else because there's nothing left to say.
The decision is made.
I'm leaving tomorrow.
Leaving this house, this city, this country.
Leaving the place where Enzo might come back looking for me.
And I don't have any choice in it at all.
They pack my things later that night.
I sit on my bed, watching Alessia and Bianca fold clothes into a suitcase, I feel nothing, just empty, hollowed out, watching my life get dismantled and put into luggage.
"How long will I be gone?" I ask quietly.
"I don't know." Alessia's voice is gentle. "As long as it takes for things to calm down here."
"What if he comes back while I'm gone?"
She stops folding and looks at me. "Who?"
"Enzo." His name hurts to say out loud. "What if he comes back looking for me and I'm not here?"
"Then Matteo will tell him where you are." Bianca says.
"Will he though?" I look at her directly. "After everything? Will Matteo really tell Enzo where I am?"
She doesn't answer and her silence is answer enough.
I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling and listen to her pack and I think about tomorrow, about getting on a plane, about flying away from the only place that matters.
About leaving without saying goodbye.
About going somewhere Enzo can't find me even if he tries.
The tears come again and I let them because there's no point fighting anymore.
Everything is falling apart and I can't stop it.
All I can do is leave.