11. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Isabella
R oses burst from every direction. My younger sister, Andrea, makes extravagant flower arrangements for every family event, and my engagement is no exception. One of the few things I genuinely love about my family is that we always go big.
Dad demanded the most expensive hall in Righteous Cove for the engagement party, and my mama has spent all week organising it into something out of a fairy tale. Huge, crystal chandeliers, ornate sculptures, and professional staff ready to wait on any demand. And, of course, my sister’s flower arrangements.
It’s beautiful.
But that doesn’t stop the stress building in my throat. Or the tears threatening to explode anytime I stop feeding into the anger in my stomach. Your engagement party should be one of the best days of your life. Mine feels like the end of my life as I know it.
My dad forbade Bianca and Felipe from coming as punishment for her involvement in the ‘incident’. I feel like no one here is on my side. My mama, Rosa, is too busy flurrying around the hall, making sure everything is ‘perfect’, while Andrea and I aren’t that close.
Andrea was born when we were already an established family, so my dad sheltered her from the reality of mafia life more than me or Fredo. We have a seven-year age-gap, and I’ve always been made to keep secrets about the family from her. Now we love each other, but we aren’t connected like we should be.
Surrounded by family, I feel alone.
Standing there, watching her organise the flowers, I wish I’d spent more time with her. I’m twenty-four, and she’s seventeen, so we’ve only just started to understand each other, and now I’m being sold off to another family.
“Isabella, my darling.” My dad’s voice steals my attention as his hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to see him standing next to Callum O’Shea. My new fiance. “You look so beautiful. I’m so happy for you.” The taunting look in his eyes makes me want to punch him.
I smile politely as he kisses me on the cheek and shuffles me into Callum O’Shea. Callum is tall and slim, with auburn hair and cold blue eyes. He wears a grey suit to match the taciturn look in his eyes. His top button presses into his neck, as if he’s chosen a shirt a half size too small to feel the pressure in his throat.
He scans my body, his expression remaining entirely neutral.
“Thank you, Don Leonardo.” He says softly, his eyes never leaving me as he speaks.
My dad’s smile falters for a moment. He isn’t used to being dismissed. He nods and walks off to apply his charms to the rest of the O’Shea family.
Callum looks around at the hall, the chaos of everyone rushing around us, swallowing us up.
“Italians love a show, don’t they?”
“The biggest sin is to be boring.”
He chuckles softly before glancing around the room.
“So, tell me, what do you think of all this?”
I open my mouth to blurt out my real feelings and then bite my lip. Screwing this up could get me disowned.
“It’ll be a lovely celebration.”
Callum scoffs.
“I asked what you think, not what Leo asked you to say.”
Leo . My dad hates it when people don’t call him Don Leonardo.
I chew my lip. What does he even want? I know what my dad is getting out of this, but what’s in it for him?
“I’ve been told a lot about you.” I say.
“Like what?” Callum gives nothing away.
“That you’re cold. You hurt people.”
Callum’s intense stare makes me uncomfortable. He pulls out a cigarette.
“Show me someone in this room who doesn’t.” He lights the cigarette, watching me intently.
“I don’t hurt people.” I snap back instinctively.
Callum’s eyes flicker to the entrance and then back to me.
“Come with me.”
Before I can respond, Callum has walked past me. I suck in a deep breath to stop myself over reacting.
If another man talks to me like a dog today, I’ll kill him.
As we stand outside, I “accidentally” stamp on his foot with my heel.
“Sorry!” I say, giving him doe eyes.
He narrows his eyes before offering me a cigarette.
“Oh, I don’t smoke.”
Callum shakes his head. “I didn’t agree to this marriage knowing nothing about you, Isabella. I have people everywhere, including empty little bars where mafia princesses go to play singer. Take the cigarette.”
How many guys are fucking stalking me?
I flick the cigarette at his shoe.
“I. Don’t. Smoke.”
Callum raises an eyebrow, letting out a plume of smoke to obscure his sharp features. He’s more handsome than I remember. I’ve only met him a handful of times, the last occasion being when I was twenty.
“Tell me, Isabella, who would you rather be, the person who hurts others or the person who hurts themselves?”
I’ve met a hundred mafia men with his attitude. Strike first and strike hard. Leave the rest of us to clean up the mess. They never think of the possibility of another option. It’s all so black and white. Why do we have to play these games?
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” I say. Callum holds my gaze, weighing me in his eyes, and then lets out an infuriating chuckle. “What do you want with me? You could marry anyone. Why choose a girl you’ve never met before?”
Callum takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air.
“The Irish love a show, too. We just go about it differently.”
A show? Is this all a game to him?
“This is my life, you know. Your life, too! It’s not a show.”
His eyes flicker down to my curling fists, that smirk pulling harder at his lips.
“Relax, you might enjoy it a little more.”
Without another word, he pushes past me to go back inside, leaving me out in the cold. A drop of snow falls from the sky, the first of the winter. So, this is my life now. A cold, cryptic husband who treats life like a game. Great.
I glance at the lines of taxis along the road. What if I jump into one? Head to the airport and jet off to escape? I’ll go somewhere warm, with live music and nice people. People who aren’t fucking insane.
But I can’t. Even if I make it somewhere else, they’ll only track me down and bring me back to Callum, kicking and screaming. With a deep breath, I follow him back into the chaos.
I walk back inside to a different atmosphere. My mama isn’t fixing decorations anymore, and I can’t see my dad anywhere. The chatter is lower, and Callum’s disappeared. I walk through the crowd, wishing Bianca was with me.
Then my heart stops. I freeze to the spot. A jolt of electricity prickles through my body and settles into my skin.
I thought I’d never see him again.
Since that night, I’ve done everything to push him out of my mind. And now, the man who stalks my thoughts stands across the hall at my engagement party… my engagement to another man.
Tall, muscular, attractive but not exactly handsome, no, he’s too rough to be called handsome. Where everyone else has their shirts done up to the top button, his is open, revealing the hint of scars carved into his neck. A dark stubble lines his jaw. Our eyes lock, and I don’t know what to call the feeling he stirs in my chest. Fear? Excitement? Hope? Anger?
Why is he here? How stupid can one Russian be?
My legs kick in before my brain, leading to me storming over to the man who dropped me in this mess.
The closer I get to him, the taller he seems. By the time I’ve conjured the thought, maybe this isn’t a good idea , I’ve already crossed the room. I’m five-foot-seven and he can’t be more than six three, but he seems so much bigger when we’re this close.
The colour of his eyes surprises me. I had him with blue eyes in my head, not the deep green I find pouring into me.
“What are you doing here? Are you lost?” I snap at him.
He scans me with his eyes, slowly, taking his sweet time to respond.
“I was invited.” He drawls.
“Bullshit.” I scoff back. “If my dad saw you here, he’d shoot you himself.”
That seems to amuse Nikolai. “I didn’t say Leonardo invited me.”
His words catch me off guard, but I press through it.
“Wasn’t it enough that you ruined my life? Now you have to be here to watch the rubble?”
Nikolai cocks his head, his brows furrowing together.
“I told you to forget about me. I warned you. When you came to my club, I tried to save you, but you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”
“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t been stalking me! Now your life is exactly the same and mine is finished. I’ll never…”
My words trail off. I know what I’m about to lose, but I can’t bring myself to speak it into words.
“Callum’s not right for you.” Nikolai’s deep voice snaps me back into the room.
Is he serious? Why does he care? More importantly, why do I care that he cares?
“I don’t have a choice!” I shake my head, unsure if I want to hit Nikolai or never see him again. “Look, just leave, okay? I don’t even know why I’m warning you, but if you’re here any longer, you’ll get hurt. Just leave.”
I turn from him when his hand snaps out and grabs mine. His grip burns into me like scalding iron manacles. What does he want?
“If I leave, so does your chance of ever going back to The Blue Moon. Callum, your dad. They just want to use you.”
I dig my fingernails into his palm when he says The Blue Moon , my despair and anxiety overwhelming me.
“And you don’t?” I feel my voice rising, but don’t care. “Your intentions are fucking pure? You’re nothing but a liar.” I shove his hand away from me.
“I’m not your enemy.” He growls back.
“Really?” I look him up and down, the scarred Russian in all black with murderous green eyes - yeah, friendly. “Well, I don’t care who you are.”
“Then why did you come over to warn me? If you didn't care we wouldn't be talking.”
Fuck this.
I storm away because I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me upset.