(05
The day blurred past in meetings and conversations. Dad paced his study, cigar smoke curling around hin he detailed the latest developments with the Vercetti family.
“Their influence has grown,” he said, tapping ash into a crystal tray. “Marco’s different from his father. Smarter. More calculated. The marriage would secure both our families‘ futures.”
I sank into my bed that night, my mind swimming with the weight of everything. The silk sheets wrapped around
me like a cocoon as I reached for my phone to set my alarm.
A notification lit up the screen. Unknown number.
My breath caught as I read the message:
Engaged to TheLan
“I heard about today. You handled it well. A true Romano. – Marco”
My fingers hovered over the keys Before I could respond, another message appeared:
“I have eyes everywhere, Isabella. Your ex–husband made a grave mistake. One he’ll come to regret.”
The threat in those words sent a shiver down my spine – not of fear, but of recognition. This was the power I’d run from, the world I’d tried to escape. Another message appeared:
“Sleep well. We’ll discuss our future soon. And Isabella? That display of strength today… molto bene.”
I stared at the screen, feeling the weight of his words. Marco wasn’t just sending messages – he was marking his territory, showing me he had the reach and power to know my every move. And somehow, that didn’t frighten me
anymore.
It felt like coming home.
My phone buzzed against my cheek, jolting me awake. An unknown number flashed across the screen – the same one from last night. Marco. My heart skipped as I answered.
“Good morning, Isabella. His voice came through deep and rich, like aged whiskey
“Good morning.” I sat up, pushing my hair from my face.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Better than expected.” I traced the silk edge of my sheets. “Though your messages were quite… interesting.”
A low chuckle. “I meant every word, Speaking of which, are you free today? I’d like to meet.”
The question hung in the air. My mind raced through all the reasons I should say no. But something else pulled at me, a curiosity I couldn’t ignore.
“Isabella?” His voice softened. “You’re overthinking”
“Yes.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. “Yes, I’m free”
“Perfect” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Check your phone in five minutes.”
I dropped the phone and rushed through my morning routine, mind spinning. After a quick shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and saved his number – no more “unknown” calls
Right on schedule, a message appeared.
“Café Milano. 11 AM. Looking forward to seeing you, bella
I pushed open the heavy glass doors of Café Milano, the cool air washing over my face. The interior sparkled with crystal chandeliers and polished marble floors.
A waiter in a crisp black uniform stepped forward. “Ms. Romano?” He gave a slight bow. “Your table is ready. Please, follow me.”
We wound through tables draped in cream linens toward a secluded corner. The executive section. My heels clicked against the marble as I took in the hand–painted murals and gold–leafed moldings
“Your table, miss.” The waiter pulled out a plush velvet chair.
C
I settled in, smoothing my black dress. The table offered a perfect view of both the restaurant and the street outside. Old habits died hard – always know your exits.
The door opened, and the room shifted. A man strode in, commanding attention without trying. Tall, broad–shouldered, wrapped in a tailored charcoal suit that screamed power. His presence filled the space between us as he approached.
Dark eyes locked onto mine. A smile played at the corners of his mouth as he sat across from me.
“Isabella.” His voice matched his texts – deep, rich, magnetic. He extended his hand across the table.
Maha
I placed my hand in his. His grip was firm, warm. A shiver ran up my arm at the contact
nice to finally meet you” His thumb brushed across my knuckles before releasing my hand
I traced the rim of my water glass, gathering courage. “About five years ago… I’m sorry I turned you down.” Marco leaned back, his expression softening. “Don’t be. If anything, that rejection shaped who I am today” My eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“It pushed me to prove myself. To become someone worthy.” He folded his hands on the table. “And I understand why you did it. The Alexander situation isn’t exactly a secret to me.”
My mouth went dry. Heat crept up my neck as I stared at him. He knew. He knew about the power plays, the threats, everything.
“You…” I swallowed hard. “You know about that?”
“Isabella, I make it my business to know everything in our world “His dark eyes held mine. “Including why you’re considering marriage now.”
I pushed my chair back, hands trembling “If you know all that, then I won’t waste your time. I wouldn’t want you
to feel used-”
A deep laugh cut through my words. Marco’s shoulders shook as he tried to contain his amusement.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are.” He wiped the corner of his eye. “Here I am, thinking ten steps ahead, and you’re worried about my feelings?”
“What do you mean?” I gripped the back of my chair, still half–standing
Marco gestured to my seat. “Please, sit down, Let’s talk about this properly.”
My legs felt weak as I sank back into the velvet chair. The waiter appeared with a bottle of wine, but Marco waved him away.
“I’ll agree to marry you.” His voice dropped lower, meant only for my ears. “The alliance between our families would be beneficial for everyone involved. And you have my word that I’ll protect the Romano name with everything I
have.”
My breath caught. Just like that? It couldn’t be that simple.
“But…” He leaned forward, his dark eyes intense. “I want something in return,”
Of course. There was always a catch, always strings attached. My stomach tightened as I braced myself for his
demands. Territory? Money? Complete control?
“What do you want?” I kept my voice steady, refusing to show weakness,
e composed
Marco’s fingers drummed once on the white tablecloth, the only sign of tension in his otherwise
demeanor. The sunlight streaming through the windows cast shadows across his face as he studied me.
“What’s your price?” I pressed when he didn’t immediately answer.
A smile tugged at Marco’s lips. “I want you to fall in love with me.”
“What?” The word burst from my mouth before I could stop it. My wine glass wobbled as my hand jerked back.
“You heard me.” He caught my gaze, his dark eyes intense and unwavering. “I want you to fall in love with me. Real love, Isabella. Not just an alliance on paper.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to process his words. Of all the demands I’d expected – territory rights, financial control, family allegiances – this wasn’t even on the list.
“I don’t understand.” My fingers twisted the napkin in my lap. “You could demand anything Power, money,
influence. Why this?”
“Because I’ve watched you settle for less.” He reached across the table, his hand covering mine, stilling my
nervous movements.
Heat crept up my neck. “You can’t demand someone fall in love. That’s not how it works”
“I’m not demanding it happen overnight.” His thumb traced circles on my wrist “I’m asking for a chance. Real dates. Real conversations. Real feelings. No games, no power plays. Just us, getting to know each other.”
“And if I don’t fall in love?”
*Then at least we tried for something genuine.” His voice softened. “I’m tired of arranged marriages based on business deals Aren’t you?”
The truth in his words hit me like a physical force. Five years of emotional manipulation with Alexander had left me cold, cynical. But here was Marco, asking for the one thing I thought I’d given up on.
I
“So what do you say?” He squeezed my hand gently “Will you give us a real chance?”
