Isabella

I nibbled on a piece of crusty Italian bread, careful not to eat too fast. After what seemed like days without food, my stomach churned with each bite I took. The pain digging into my stomach like a knife slowly subsided.

“Do you have something I can drink other than wine?” I asked the man sitting across from me. “It’s delicious, but I could use a glass of water.”

He glanced over his shoulder at a man by the long, oak bar and muttered something so fast in Italian I didn’t catch all of it. The man did as he was told, pouring each of us a glass of water from the pitcher he left for us at the center of the table.

I wrapped both hands around the glass and drank it in two gulps. When I set it on the table, the bartender filled it again. Liquid ran down my lips, which I licked away, my thirst still not satiated. I wiped the excess from my chin, and as I did, the scary Italian man across from me smiled. Well, he wasn’t all that frightening. His rugged good looks and killer smirk made it hard not to find him attractive.

But he was a murderer. I could see it in his eyes. He was like Stephan and his brothers. The same look from Stephan never frightened me. It excited me. I knew there was a monster inside him that wanted to claim me, hurt me, and I didn’t care about the risk. Except Stephan was never that way with me. He’d always shown me the softest parts of himself while exposing me to his darkness.

Sometimes, he smothered me with it, and I welcomed it every time. I breathed in his anger and frustration, allowing him to swallow me whole. Every inch of my body craved him, always did. And that fact would never change. Being on this boat, alone and afraid, only made me miss Stephan more. He could handle the man across the table from me.

“My apologies for my men. They had you confused with someone else.” His thick accent reminded me so much of Carmella.

My heart pounded against my ribcage at the thought of her. I hoped she was okay and that the men who wanted me didn’t hurt her.

I pushed the plate of food away from me and sat back in the chair, soaking in the warmth of the comfy cushions. “Who are you?”

“Domenic DeLuca.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “DeLuca?”

He nodded. “Yes. Stephan arranged for you to be here.”

“You said your men mixed me up with someone else. Does that mean you’re holding another woman against her will on this boat?”

His expression turned serious and dark. “What takes place on this boat is none of your business, Isabella. If you’re going to be part of this family, you have to stop asking questions.”

What Stephan and I had was forever. At some point, I would become part of the DeLuca family. But I’d never given it much thought, mostly because I wasn’t sure how long we’d be together with my father constantly interfering with my life.

“One more question. It’s important. Is Stephan still in jail?”

He shook his head, and I let out the breath of air I was holding. “We have another week until we reach Calabria. I suggest you rest up.” He scanned my dirty clothes and ratty hair and continued, “Perhaps a shower, too. You need to look presentable when you meet the boss.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he added, “Stephan’s grandfather, Salvatore DeLuca.”

“I thought he was retired.”

He removed a pack of cigarettes from the inside of his jacket pocket. “His eldest son handles the day-to-day business, but Salvatore is the head of this family.”

“Does he know about my situation? About my father?”

If we would someday be family, I wanted to make a good first impression. But the issues Stephan had with my father only complicated things.

“He’s well aware. Your father is being handled.”

The way he said the last word sent a tremor down my spine. I was told not to ask questions, and so I kept my mouth shut. Did I care whether my father lived or died? No, not at all. He was a horrible man who destroyed everyone in his path. Whatever retaliation he would face from Stephan’s family was on him. And he would deserve it.

The door behind me opened, and two sets of footsteps moved toward us. Dominic’s face brightened, and when I heard Carmella say my name from behind me, I jumped up from the chair.

I pushed the man at her side out of the way and hugged her with every ounce of energy I had left in my tired body. She was washed and dressed as if she’d been treated with care.

“Carm,” I whispered, my voice turning into a soft sob. “You’re here. Oh, my God, I was so worried about you. I was afraid you were hurt or dead.”

I lifted my head from her shoulder, and she stroked my cheek with her fingers. “I’d never leave you,” she lilted.

Squeezing her against my chest, I took in the scent of her perfume and allowed it to fill my nostrils. Carmella was here. With me. And soon, if everything worked out, Stephan would be with me, too. It was almost too good to be true.