Page 68 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Isabella

I nstead of answering, Luca opens his desk drawer and pulls out my phone, placing it in my hand like it’s some kind of peace offering.

I stare at it, then at him, looking for even the smallest flicker of guilt for deciding things on my behalf… again.

Nothing.

His face is blank, carved in that cool, unshakable way that says he’s either a master at hiding his thoughts or genuinely doesn’t see the problem.

I’m betting on the latter.

If I were any less patient, I’d throw the phone at him just to see if I could crack that perfect, smug calm of his.

There’s a faint crease between his brows, as if he’s genuinely puzzled by my reaction.

Men, especially über-intelligent ones. Brilliant minds, but at times emotionally illiterate to a fault.

My fingers tighten around the phone, the plastic warm against my palm. I wake the screen, and my stomach dips.

Seventeen missed calls in the last two days. Mamma. Aldo. Numbers I don’t even recognize .

God, I dread those voicemails, already knowing they’ll be a mix of worry and accusation.

Nobody knew about this device except Mari, Andrea, and Sebastian. That secret is clearly out now.

I’d saved Mamma and Aldo’s numbers, ready for when I needed to tell them about my elopement with Sebastian. Now Mamma’s name glares back at me from the screen.

I tap open the last exchange with her, each message dropping like a stone into the pit forming in my chest.

I read the first message Luca sent in my name out loud, dismay threading every word.

Hi Mamma, Isa here. I’m sure the staff will have told you I’m gone by now. I’m so sorry, I never intended to worry you. I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. I’m with Luca. We eloped to Las Vegas. I’m happy, safe, and will explain everything when we return.

I stare at the screen, my brows knitting, torn between laughing in his face or launching the phone at his head.

In the end, I just breathe out through my nose, slow and deliberate, because either choice would be a complete waste on someone who assumes he’s done nothing wrong.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter. “That’s not a bombshell at all, is it? I ran off with you to get married? After you disappeared for years for good reason? Why would you tell her that?”

He pushes away from the desk and rises with that maddeningly calm, deliberate ease, his gaze locked on mine as he crosses the room.

“Because your mother knows how much you love me. She’ll believe it. And if she believes it, she won’t panic and start a search party. She’ll wait for you to come back and tell her the fairytale yourself. ”

“Fairytale?” I glare at him.

“It also tells her the important things. That you are happy and safe. And that you chose me. That part matters.”

Before I can fire back, he’s standing in front of me, pulling me to my feet and straight into his arms. My body stiffens, but I don’t push him away. His hands settle low against my back, his heartbeat steady and unhurried against mine, as if he already knows I won’t fight him.

I tip my head back to meet his eyes. “Matters to whom? You or her?”

His fingers flex against my spine.

“To me,” he says without hesitation. “But it would also matter to her. She needs to believe it so she sleeps at night. You wouldn’t want to take that away from her, would you?”

I roll my eyes at him, the heat of my anger shifting into something heavier and harder to name. The tension is still there, but no longer sharp enough to cut.

“Don’t guilt trip me,” I mutter, letting my head fall against his chest. He pulls me closer, and despite myself, I let him, breathing in the scent that’s more like home than I want to admit.

“You wouldn’t want to be back in Sicily or in Chicago with your mother and sisters, would you? Without me?”

I draw back, needing to see his face. It’s rare for Luca to let anything resembling insecurity slip through, but it’s there now, etched faintly in his eyes.

He kidnapped me… drugged me and took me to his island without my consent.

My gaze falls on my ring finger, where he marked me like he owned me. But the truth is, he does. My heart, at least.

And then last night? That was something else entirely.

That pull between us was back, fiercer than before. It hadn’t faded with time. It had grown, honed itself, until now it burned hot enough to consume everything else, leaving only hunger behind.

Before I can stop myself, I lean into him, my annoyance loosening its grip.

“I’d still rather be here with you than anywhere else,” I admit quietly. “Even when you throw new revelations at me before I’ve had any coffee.”

His mouth curves against my hair. “I’ll make sure there’s an espresso waiting for you next time, so you’ll forgive me faster.”

I can’t help it. My lips twitch, and the fight I had prepared melts into something warmer.

What’s the point of being annoyed with Luca?

I wouldn’t change him for the world. I love him exactly as he is. Not that I’d tell him that right now.

Pulling back, I break the moment before he can read too much in my face.

“I need to call my mother.”

I pause, my fingers hovering over the phone. “Can it be traced to here?”

“No, I’ve taken every precaution.”

I glance toward the screen showing the feed from my bedroom.

“Is there any aspect of my life you don’t know about?” I ask, looking back at him. “Did I ever have any privacy?”

Instead of replying, he asks, “Do you truly want any?”

The question stops me. I rub my chin, buying time because I don’t have a ready answer.

The logical response would be yes, of course I want privacy. But do I?

To have someone who knows you so completely, who sees every side of you and still loves all of it. Someone who quietly smooths out the rough edges of your life before you even notice them. Why would I object to that?

I remember the time when I wanted to trade crypto but didn’t have the funds. After I set up an account, the trading company miraculously offered me a thousand dollars in credit to get started.

At the time, I thought my stars had aligned. Now I see it for what it was. Luca’s quiet support, the safety net I never had to ask for. I don’t even need to confirm it. I know, deep down, it was him.

God, I love this man so much .

I want to be with him fully and completely, with no secrets between us. Him knowing everything about me isn’t something I resent. It’s exactly what I want.

My hand lifts, brushing lightly over his chest. His warmth seeps into my palm, and I let it linger for a moment before pulling away and locking eyes with him.

“No. I don’t,” I admit.

His eyes darken, the faint tension in his jaw easing. Before I can process the change, his hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb grazing the corner of my mouth. Then his lips are on mine, stealing the breath from my lungs.

The kiss is unhurried but deep, coaxing me open, pulling me closer until my fingers are curled into his shirt without me even realizing it.

My resistance unravels in seconds. Whatever I had been holding back slips away, replaced by the dizzying warmth of having given him something he clearly needed to hear.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine and our breaths mingle.

“But this is a two-way street,” I murmur, softer now. “If there’s no hiding anything from you, then there’s no hiding anything from me either. Since you know everything about me, I need to play catch-up.”

“Agreed,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “And you have been catching up these last few days… rapidly too. Roller coaster, remember?”

“How about at a more sustainable pace?” I counter, my tone dry. “I just got up, and you’ve already ambushed me with new material I need to digest. I’m almost afraid to ask if there’s anything else you need to tell me.”

Luca’s jaw moves from side to side, the faint pull of muscle betraying the fact that he’s weighing his options. His gaze holds mine, unblinking, like he’s deciding how much I can handle before I’ve even eaten.

“Just spit it out,” I say, bracing for whatever comes next.

Still, he doesn’t speak .

“That bad?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and the movement makes his biceps flex beneath his shirt. For a second, it distracts me from the way his face tightens, the subtle scrunch at the corners of his eyes that looks a lot like guilt.

“Remember that no matter what I do, it’s always because I love you.”

I narrow my eyes, suspicion prickling at the back of my neck. “Luca, just tell me.”

“There’s one more thing. I—”

A sharp alarm blares from one of his computers, cutting him off. At the same time, his phone lights up and begins to ring.

For the briefest moment, his expression flickers with something startled and alert before it shutters completely, replaced by that cold, calculating mask I’ve seen before.

Whatever this alarm means, it’s important. Urgent.

The sound carries a menacing edge that settles in my chest like a warning. A strange, sinking familiarity seeps in.

We’ve been here before… on my seventeenth birthday, when the ground shifted beneath me without warning.

It all started with a phone call then too.

I remember the weight of my clothes pulling at my shoulders as I got dressed, the scent of our lovemaking still clinging to my skin, and the frantic pitch of Luca’s mother’s voice spilling through the receiver.

That call had ripped open the life I knew and sent everything spiraling.

My skin prickles, a faint chill sliding down my spine despite the warmth of the room. The air seems thicker, heavier, as if it is holding its breath with me.

My fingers curl around the edge of the desk, gripping it hard, searching for something solid to keep me steady.

It’s a déjà vu of sorts, a heavy foreboding that whispers the next moment might change everything… again.