Page 56 of Dark Desires

He laughs. “With you, who knows?”

The doors open to reveal a bustling, open space with dozens of clerks zipping here and there. The receptionist on this floor directs me to Omar’s office, and I’m soon on my way.

“Fancy,” I say as I approach the door with his name on the front. “Barely out of law school, and he’s already got a private office.”

“It’s… odd,” Mario replies.

I knock, and a voice calls out to enter, so I do.

I can’t help but take a mental note of the space as I open the door. It’s modern and minimalist, with a huge window overlooking the city and shelves lined with thick law books. It seems too grand for someone who’s not even been practicing law for a full year.

Omar stands to greet me. He’s in his mid-twenties, wearing a sharp suit and a disarming smile. His dark, wavy hair and deep brown eyes give him a brooding Colombian vibe that’s impossible to ignore.

“Isabella Mancini,” he says. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His tone is polite, but wary.

“I came to talk about Stephania.”

The warmth in his expression fades, replaced by something heavier. “Stephania?”

“Yes, Stephania. You know, my cousin, who’s madly in love with you?” I take a seat without waiting for an invitation, crossing my legs and leaning back. “Figured it was about time we had a chat. This is Mario, by the way. He’s my bodyguard.”

Mario utters a quick “Hello” as he takes a position behind my chair.

Omar hesitates, his hands resting on the edge of his desk. “Isabella, I?—”

“Isa. Everyone calls me Isa. And don’t try to brush me off. I’ve seen the messages. You two are obviously crazy about each other.”

His jaw tightens, and for a second, he looks like he might argue. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Stephania means everything to me. But it’s not that simple. I mean, she’s marrying someone else!”

I lean forward, raising an eyebrow. “It’s never simple with love. But you’re not seriously going to tell me you’re just going to let her marry someone else without a fight, are you?”

Omar’s face darkens. “If I could, I’d give her the world. But this… it’s dangerous, Isabella. My father—he’s not a man to cross.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes. Fear?

I’m confused. “Your father? What does he have to do with this?”

Omar shakes his head. “My father sees everything as an opportunity. If he found out about Stephania and me, he’d use it. Against her. Against your family. I can’t let that happen.”

I don’t even know where to begin. “Why would he use his son dating someone against her? I don’t get it.”

My mind is swimming with questions, but there’s a sudden knock at the door. The sound might as well be an explosion for the way it makes us all tense.

“Who is it?” Omar calls out.

The door creaks open, and my eyes dart toward it. A man steps inside, and the energy in the room shifts so fast it nearly gives me whiplash.

He’s tall, with salt-and-pepper hair that’s perfectly styled, a neatly trimmed beard that gives him an air of authority, and a suit that probably costs more than a year’s rent at a penthouse in the Loop. His presence is magnetic, the kind that makes you sit up straighter whether you want to or not.

But it’s his eyes that get me—dark, calculating, like he’s already dissecting the room and everyone in it.

Omar shoots to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor.

“Dad!” He’s totally surprised. Speak of the devil, I suppose.

Omar’s dad raises a hand, a smooth smile spreading across his face. “I apologize for interrupting, but there’s something I need to discuss with you, Omar.” His voice is rich, silky, like he’s used to stepping into rooms and taking control of them.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Omar says.