Page 35 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Isabella

“ H ere, drink this,” Mia orders, thrusting a tall glass into my hands.

The liquid inside looks like something dredged from a swamp. Thick, pale, and with globules floating ominously on the surface.

“I feel sick just looking at it. Do I really have to drink it?”

Mia raises a brow, one hand on her hip, the other ready to tip the glass toward my lips if I hesitate too long.

“If we want this to be convincing, yes. Mamma’s no fool. She’ll see through anything less.”

We spent half the night researching how to fake a stomach bug. Symptoms, behaviors, even what might produce the right effects. In the end, this disgusting concoction was the only solution we could make with what we already had in the house.

Raw eggs, a splash of vegetable oil, warm milk, and God knows what else. I don’t want to think about what Mia might have added.

“She’s going to smell this and declare me dead on the spot,” I mutter.

Mia smirks. “It’s truly gag-inducing. I nearly vomited just blending it together. ”

She wrinkles her nose dramatically, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“Maybe I should fake being sick too. Stay back… in solidarity.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s actually not such a bad idea… if we wanted the whole trip postponed and my elopement ruined before it even starts.”

She sighs, conceding. “Good point.”

This past week, Sebastian and I have been busy planning. He’s been working on the logistics of our elopement to Las Vegas, while I’ve been focused on finding a believable way to get out of this trip to Chicago.

Mia helped, of course. She’s invested in my successful escape from any enforced Mafia marriage. I think I’m the guinea pig for her own potential Plan NUPTIAL.

I grin at her. “Admit it. You’d miss verbally sparring with Maximo if you didn’t go.”

She groans but her eyes gleam with amusement. “Perhaps a little. As long as he doesn’t propose again. Once is enough for a lifetime.”

“Oh please. You love rejecting him. Bringing him down a notch gives you a kick.”

She chuckles, warm and rich, and for a second it almost calms the storm inside me.

“There’s nothing on this earth that could bring that man down, not even a notch. But I’d certainly try.” She leans closer, all business again. “Now stop stalling. Drink up. Let’s make you sick.”

I eye the glass one last time, watching the liquid slide thickly against the sides.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Mia grins, wicked and unrepentant.

“Oh, you have no idea. Now do it. We’re meant to leave tonight, and you need to be well and truly sick.”

I pinch my nose and force the glass to my lips. The first sip is worse than I imagined. It’s warm, slimy, and the taste hits me like a punch to the gut. I gag but manage to swallow, forcing it down with a shudder. Then I down the rest in one go. If I stop to sip, I’ll never get through it.

Mia’s eyes widen, impressed. “Nice. Very convincing.”

“No acting required,” I croak, wiping my mouth. “That was horrific.”

I stagger over to the mirror and study myself. My skin already looks a little pale, probably from the drink alone. I tousle my hair, pinch my cheeks, then watch the color drain away again. My hands grip the edge of the dresser as I practice a few weak, shaky breaths.

The sound of Mamma’s heels clicking on the stairs sends a jolt of panic through me. My stomach churns for real this time. Whether from the nerves or that awful drink, I’m not sure.

“Isa!”

I barely make it to the toilet before I throw up, my body doubling over as wave after wave hits me. My throat burns, my eyes sting, and I feel truly awful now.

Mamma is at my side in an instant, holding my hair back and murmuring soothing words as she rubs my back.

When it’s over, I sag against the wall, trembling.

“Oh, tesoro ,” she says softly, helping me to my feet. “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, actually feeling weak. I don’t even have to pretend. “It’s probably something I ate.” Or drank.

I close my eyes as if the light hurts. “Maybe it was the snack I had at the market yesterday. It did taste a bit funny.”

Actually, the warm, flaky sfogliatella Sebastian fed me between kisses was delicious. We roamed the market together, talking about our final plans. But Mamma will never hear about that.

I let her guide me to my bed, my legs wobbly, my breath shallow. She tucks the blanket around me, smoothing my hair from my damp forehead.

“You’re not going anywhere like this. What should we do?” She looks truly worried, and a pang of guilt blooms in my stomach, making me retch again.

“I’ll call the doctor. ”

“No, Mamma, please,” I protest, my voice hoarse. “It’s just food poisoning. No doctor can help with that. Rest is all I need.”

She lets out a long breath, her forehead crinkling in the way it does when she tries to hide her disappointment.

“I’ll call Aldo. See if we can postpone this trip for a few days.”

“What? No, Mamma. You’ve been looking forward to this trip. Don’t postpone it because of me.”

Her brow furrows as she debates whether to argue.

“Mamma,” I say more firmly, “I’m twenty-two. You don’t need me to come. This will probably be better in a day or two, and I’m perfectly capable of being on my own for a couple of weeks. I will not let you delay this because of me. You need to explore your options. Remember?”

Her shoulders sag, and for a long moment she just looks at me, torn.

Mia appears in the doorway. I bet she’s been eavesdropping again.

“Isa is right, Mamma. She’s old enough to look after herself. And she’s not alone here. All the staff are still around. They can look after her. You need to put yourself first for a change.”

Mamma seems to consider Mia’s words. At last, she sighs.

“All right. But if your symptoms get worse, you call. Promise me, Isabella.”

“I promise.”

She kisses my forehead, lingering, then rises. “Rest up. I’ll bring you some ginger tea. That should help settle your stomach.”

Throughout the next hour, they come and go.

Mamma brings me tea, though I can barely stomach the smell.

Sienna offers a cold cloth for my forehead.

Ari sneaks in with a book I left downstairs.

I thank them all, keeping up the act. Since expelling the vile concoction from my body, I feel much better.

By the time they finally gather at the door, bags in hand, I’m fine again. They hug me, and I moan and move as if in pain. Mamma looks back at me, worry still in her eyes.

“If you need me, I can always come straight back.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine in a day or two. Have a safe trip. ”

Mia gives me a wink when no one is looking. And then they’re gone.

The house grows still, and I’m alone at last.

I stay in bed a while longer, listening for any sounds that might mean they’ve come back for something they forgot. A jacket. A book. One last check on me.

But the house remains quiet.

When I’m sure the coast is clear, I grab my phone and send Sebastian a quick message. Then, I throw back the covers and spring from bed, my heart racing with nerves.

I head straight for the shower. The hot water does wonders, washing away the sickly residue of that awful concoction and clearing my head.

This is all going swimmingly. It’s clearly meant to be.

In record time, I’m dressed and ready to go. I wheel my packed suitcase from the walk-in closet, every item inside carefully chosen, each one a step closer to my new life.

I move through the house as quietly as possible. The tiles are cool beneath my feet, the familiar halls suddenly seeming like part of a dream I’m leaving behind.

I come across a maid near the kitchen. My pulse jumps, but I force myself to slow down, to hunch my shoulders and put on a suffering face.

The maid gives me a small smile and a nod, seemingly paying no attention to my suitcase.

I want to grin. I want to laugh. I want to run outside and shout that I’m about to be free.

Well, somewhat free… at least from my Mafia life.

Plus, not only am I going to get married, but I’m also leaving Sicily for the first time. The thought sends a thrill through me.

Sebastian took care of everything, my passport, the tickets, the hotel. All I had to do was get myself out the door.

At last, I slip out the back door into the night. The air is cool, the sky streaked with the last hints of sunset.

I pause for a breath, my hand resting on the doorframe. The house is silent, familiar shadows stretching across the walls. I take it all in, every line and corner.

This is goodbye.

I haven’t had enough time to let that truly sink in. I know I’ll come back here. This isn’t the last time I’ll see or set foot in the place where I grew up. But I won’t live here anymore. I’ll be living with my husband.

My stomach plummets.

Husband.

I’m going to be married.

Sebastian’s sleek black Audi pulls up and glides to a stop outside the gate. There’s no turning back now. This is what I want. I might as well embrace it fully.

I put the smile back on my face, and with one last look at the place I’ve called home all my life, I hurry toward my future. Before the driver’s side window even fully lowers, I’m at the door, pulling it open.

Sebastian grins at me, his eyes warm and full of promise. It settles something inside me.

I don’t hesitate. I slide into the car, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Throwing my arms around his neck, I kiss him. His mouth is familiar now, and yet every kiss still seems new.

He pulls back too soon, though the glint in his eyes tells me he has more in store. Without looking away from me, he opens the glove compartment and retrieves a small velvet box.

My breath catches. My gaze drops to it as he flips it open.

Inside, nestled in dark satin, is a sparkling, breathtaking engagement ring. The diamond catches the faint light, dazzling, as if it’s as full of promise as the man beside me.

“Because we’re doing this properly,” he says with a grin. His voice is soft, almost reverent. “Isabella Accardi, will you marry me? ”

My grin matches his, wide and certain. “Yes.”

He slides the ring onto my finger, his touch gentle but sure, his eyes never leaving mine. I hold out my hand, watching how the stone gleams, marking the start of something entirely new.

“It’s gorgeous,” I murmur, trying hard not to compare this ring to the first one I wore.

The dizzying joy I felt that first time, when Luca slid his ring onto my finger, is missing.

But that’s okay. I know what this is. Sebastian and I are a strategic move. We fit together beautifully, and from this strong foundation, we will build a happy life.

“Not as gorgeous as you,” he says, his gaze heated now.

We seal it with a kiss, this one deeper, slower, more charged. It promises everything our wedding night will bring. My stomach twists, nerves bursting through. I’m not sure if it’s excitement or dread. Maybe both.

Sebastian draws back just enough to nuzzle my neck, his breath warm against my skin. He lingers there for a heartbeat, then his mouth finds mine again, his words brushing my lips.

“Ready, baby?”

No, I’m really not.

“Yes. Let’s do this.”