Page 19 of Isabella

Something orsomeoneis causing him to lie to me.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “I don’t believe anything you’re saying, Nicco. What happened with your dad?”

“I already told you?—”

“Stoplying to me. This is not the man I know.”

“Then maybe you don’t know me,” he spits back.

I scoff. “You and I both know that’s not true, so please just tell me what’s going on. Tell me so I can help. I can talk it through with you.”

“There’s nothing to talk through, Isabella,” Nicco responds, exasperated, as if I’m being the difficult one and he’s determined I’m not worth his time. “What part of this aren’t you understanding? I’m leaving for Italy to meet my future fiancée’s family. There’s no reason for us to waste each other’s time anymore. You and I are done.” He recites it to me as if they’re bullet points.

But I still don’t understand with how out of left field this is. “Nicco, I?—”

The muffled sound of a woman’s voice comes over the line, cutting me off.

“Are you almost done, babe?”

My heart sinks to the lowest depths of my stomach. To a blackened hole with no way of finding its way out.

“Yeah, one sec,” he mumbles back.

“Who is that, Nicco?” I demand.

Releasing a sigh, he says, “I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m moving on, Isabella, and it’s time you do the same.”

I open my mouth to speak, but the click on the other end of the line lets me know he’s hung up on me, leaving me to choke on the sobs that have finally released themselves from my body.

* * *

14

NICCOLÒ

PRESENT DAY

Stepping off the elevator onto the eleventh floor, my dad, Mauricio, my Aunt Elena, Giuliana, and I enter the extravagant ballroom. The thirty-thousand square foot room that has a modern and minimalist look has been transformed into a luxury event for tonight, drawing in the biggest names in the city.

I take in the panoramic view of Manhattan through the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the entire wall around the room. The space is already consumed with individuals taking their seats to prepare for the dinner portion of the night.

Scanning the area, I see no sign of the DiMaggios, specifically a little brunette.

“Remember what your purpose is tonight,” my dad grumbles as one of the event workers leads us to our table, reminding me of his plan for me to “woo” Isabella.

Glancing over at the other name cards on the table, I notice they’ve sat us with the Bonettis, one of the three families in New York City.

“While you work on the DiMaggio girl, I’ll be working on getting Giuliana married off to one of the Bonettis. Since her marriage to Matteo didn’t work out, it only makes sense to get her with one of Andreas’s kids.”

Fucking hell.

That’s all he’ll ever see a woman as. A way to get whathewants.

I glance over at my Aunt Elena and Giuliana, who are both dressed in black gowns and have just taken their seats. Giuliana’s quiet, barely paying attention to anything going on around her. Usually, she’d be the life of the party, talking up anyone and everyone she could, but I’ve noticed a change in her ever since everything went down with her dad.

We’ve never been very close, but since I moved out of my dad’s place and into my own penthouse after moving back from Sicily, I really haven’t seen them much. My aunt has been visiting my dad lately to talk about marrying Giuliana off, but I didn’t realize he was thinking about a Bonetti.

I quietly listen while my dad talks to Mauricio about his plan to talk to Andreas about Giuliana, and that’s when I see her.

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