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15

ISABELLA

S taying drenched in our sex has become our routine.

And I absolutely love it.

Every second of the day is pure stimulation.

Whether we’re talking, cuddling on the couch, fucking, or playing a game; it’s captivating, consuming.

Like the outside world doesn't exist anymore.

Somewhere in the back of my brain, I know it's foolish, hazardous. But I don't let myself go there. I don't let those thoughts intrude. All there is, is Alessandro and me and the passion between us.

“I think the blizzard may be slowing down a little bit.” Alessandra peeks through the curtains. “Hard to tell though. Everything's just…white. There must be ten feet of snow out there.”

“Come back to bed, Alessandro,” I croon, stretching in the morning chill.

“I will soon. Need to take care of a few things…”

“Like what?”

“Water. So much water. I’m getting dehydrated.”

“From what?” I tease.

His devilish grin makes my toes curl.

He’s so fucking sexy, stalking out of the room in nothing but loose pajama pants.

I lounge about for a while, dozing in and out of sleep when I realize Alessandro’s been gone a while.

“Hmm…maybe I should find something of my own to do,” I mumble, rising and wrapping myself in a fuzzy blanket. Shuffling to my room, I shower and dress in something other than a robe. It’s the first time I’ve worn any actual clothing in days.

As I'm creeping down the stairs, I hear Aless talking quietly in his office.

“You think you can make it?” he says.

“Yeah, I should be able to get up the drive once they finish plowing the road.” The response is garbled over the radio, but clearly Adriano.

“Which will be …”

“Later today sometime.”

“Alright. Just take it slow. As much as I want to get back, we don’t need you sliding off the side of a mountain.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” The tone shifts lower, back to business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

Thoughts of Adriano’s return brings back the outside world. The real reason I came here which I haven’t made any progress on in days.

Time is zipping by.

And it’s tearing at me, splitting me in two between the idea of needing more time to find evidence, to discover some clue that will answer my questions, and needing more time with him.

Seeing me pass the door in clothing, Alessandro follows suit, joining me in the kitchen a while later, wearing pants and a shirt. It feels out of place.

“You look better without,” he grumbles in my ear, kissing my neck.

Shivers make my eyelids flutter.

“No! I need to be productive today, accomplish something.”

“I can think of a few things we can accomplish.”

“Our accomplishments have destroyed the house from top to bottom.”

“I like to think of it as interpretive decorating.”

“Your brother might disagree when he gets back.”

“Fine. But only so we can destroy it all over again.” He smirks.

So we spend the morning straightening, sweeping up the disasters of our passion from the library down to the gym to the kitchen. It’s amazing, the mess we made, knocking over an entire bookshelf upstairs, broken vases in the foyer, blankets and clothing strewn across the floor in various rooms.

Throughout the endeavor, I look for anything I can find, having a great excuse to be digging through drawers and cabinets.

I need to get more information.

But I've searched his office. I've searched through Adriano's things, and aside from the stack of papers that I found before—which are still hiding underneath the sheet in the east wing—there's not much else. I haven't had time to really examine the list of names to figure out what they mean.

I need some frame of reference to give the numbers purpose.

The benefit of Adriano returning is that they will talk. And I can record their plans.

They have to discuss family affairs, and maybe I can get some usable intel.

Cleaning up the house gives me the opportunity to really set my cameras, recorders. Particularly in Alessandro’s office and in Adriano’s bedroom.

I manage to get it all done in the time it takes Alessandro to finish the dishes.

Relocating power from the generator, we decide to do a few loads of laundry, and just as I'm taking the clothing back up the stairs to sort them, I hear the door open.

Blustering wind sends flakes across the floor, backlighting a figure in the doorway.

“Welcome back, Adriano,” I call, trying to sound warm, amicable. It's far from how I feel. I've dreaded this and what it means. Not that I have anything against him personally. Other than the fact that he’s a Diamante.

“Isabella. I hope you're well,” he says, cordial as ever.

“Oh, couldn't be better. Aside from a bit of boredom over the last few days. Got lots of reading done.” Not nearly as much as I thought I would…

He pauses, taking down his goggles and pulling off his mask. A faint trace of a smirk tells me he doubts my claims.

I feel my cheeks flush hot.

Dammit.

“Do you need help bringing anything in?” I press on, hoping he doesn’t see my embarrassment.

“No, no. I didn’t bring much. Vincenzo and the rest of the staff should be back soon with supplies. Alessandro and I can unload the truck later.”

“Sounds good. Feel free to leave your laundry there. I'll take care of it.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking at me strangely.

“Thank you. You don't have to do that.” But I can tell he likes that I offered.

“I have to earn my keep somehow, right?” I smile, heading toward my room.

Adriano quirks his lip in what could be a smile or a grimace. I can't tell. I don't know him well enough, yet.

I putter around the house for a while, trying to decide what to do. Reading, working out. Everything seems bland compared to Alessandro and what we’ve been up to all week.

An hour later, I hear Adriano emerge from his room, showered and refreshed. He heads straight to Aless’s office.

Eager to catch an earful, I make a fair bit of noise heading into the kitchen. There are a few things that still need tidying, excusing my presence.

But instead of wiping down the counters, I sneak back to the landing, pressing myself up against the wall by the office door.

I can always listen to the recording later, but I need information now. I want to know what news Adriano brought with him.

“It looks like the Serpent’s Head is making moves all across the Eastern seaboard.”

“You said they’ve threatened our members all over the world.”

“They have. Ero is still looking into who has been targeted and why.”

“Fucking brazen. Like he has no fear of repercussions.”

“He took us off guard,” Adriano offers.

“Bullshit. I should have been there. I should have gotten in his way more.”

“Like I said. We had no clue.”

“I had a clue. I’ve known that piece of shit my entire life. I should have suspected he was up to something when he disappeared.” Aless slams a fist down on the desk.

“If you would have been there, he would have made another play on your life. I know he would have. Without you there’s no legitimate claim.”

“There’s you.”

“I would certainly put up a fight, but without you everyone would run for cover, he would have us outmanned. He might anyway. Our ace in the hole is that the family has faith in you, Aless. They trust you.”

“I feel like a hack, hiding out here. A fucking waste of time.”

I feel a slight twinge in my heart at his words. I shouldn't take it personally. I know what he means.

But I'd hate to think that what we've been doing means nothing.

Even though at the same time, the reality is that I fucked up. My rose-colored glasses are getting hard to keep on. I’ve been sleeping with my enemy.

He's still a criminal.

Even if I want to believe he is good at heart.

It’s a fact that breaks my heart, but I set myself up for it.

“Look, no sense crying over what we can’t change. We know what kind of numbers he has, who he’s got under his thumb and who is still on our side. Our people are ready, Aless. They’re hankering for a fight. With you leading the charge, we’ll intimidate the hell out of his army of thugs.”

“Good. When do we leave?”

“There’s still a shit ton of snow in our way. I estimate we should be able to make it out by next week.”

“Next week?”

“Unless I call for a chopper. But that would kind of defeat the purpose of sneaking around.”

“Fair point. The element of surprise is always a boon.”

“Which is why I got in touch with the Greeks. Waiting to hear back from them.”

“The Greeks. The fucking assassins?”

“Mostly, I want to make sure that they remain neutral. Or maybe they’ll be willing to pitch in with us. An upset of power like this doesn’t do them any favors for business.”

“I don't trust them.”

“I don't trust them, either. But if they are working for Dom, we might be able to outbid him. They work for money. Not for loyalty.”

“Hope it stays that way. What about the docks?”

“Business as usual. No sign of interference.”

“And our funds?”

“Same. Plenty of clean cash to spare. Our accountants have all reported in. Dom was never privy to those names, locations. Should be safe.”

“Make sure. I’ll need to make about a thousand phone calls when I get back.” I hear him sigh, his voice strained from behind his hands as he rubs his face. “I feel like my hands have been tied. Fucking storm made managing my empire impossible.”

“Not for much longer. We'll be home soon.”

“I know. What can we expect from the cops?”

“Pretty much a fifty-fifty split. Most of them just want to wait the whole thing out, see who comes out on top before they get back on the cut.” Adriano rises and I scurry back from the door. His voice lowers and it sounds like he’s farther away, muttering quietly. I strain to hear.

“Aless. Is your head where it needs to be?”

“Yes. This time away has been useful. I feel recharged.”

“And not distracted? I don’t trust her.”

“You don’t have to trust her.” The implication of the statement has a finality that makes my stomach turn. “And it’s none of your business.”

“It is my business to know if she’s gotten to you. Persuaded you in some way.”

“Persuaded me how?”

“I just need to know if she has any influence over your decisions,” Adriano snaps. “You haven’t been with someone like this in a long time.”

“Like this? Like what?”

“I see the way you look at her. The way she looks at you. This is more than a tryst. It’s like Cata?—”

“Do. Not. Say her name.”

“Then answer me. Are you compromised?”

“No.”

“Then what are you going to do about her? What are we going to do about her?”

A sick feeling swells in my chest and I back away as the door clicks closed, echoing like a gunshot in my head.