Page 48 of Isabella

“So youdoknow about Nicco,” I say, raising my voice. “Was this all some kind of trick? Did Nicco ask you to get me out of the house so he could corner me?”

Massimo raises his hands in defense. “Niccolò Silvestri and I are not that close.” Dropping his hands back down, he says, “Anyone with eyes can see there’s something going on between the two of you.”

“How did you know I was just in the bathroom with him, then?” I ask, my tone accusatory.

“I wasn’t certain he was here, but I had a suspicion.”

I set my menu down and cross my arms over my chest, raising a brow at him. “Explain please.”

“I thought I saw him exit the kitchen and follow you down the hall toward the bathroom.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I find the kitchen door and hallway that leads to the bathroom to see if that’s something Massimo could see from here, andshit, it is. I turn back around and sink lower in my chair, wrapping my arms around my body tighter. “Crap,” I mutter.

Massimo chuckles softly. “So, are you going to tell me the history there?”

I slowly shift my gaze to his, and the edge of his mouth curves up into a small smile. “And don’t try to deny it. You didn’t see the way that man couldn’t take his eyes off you at the gala last month. And then when he interrupted our dance? He looked like a crazed fucking man in love.”

Uncrossing my arms, I place them in my lap and start twiddling my fingers. “It’s not like that, Massimo.”

“Then how is it like?”

“I-I don’t know,” I mutter, my shoulders falling forward.

Massimo’s quiet for a few moments while he studies me, only the quiet chatter of the patrons among us filling the air before he finally says, “I think you might, Izzy.”

Sitting back in his chair, Massimo picks his menu back up and gives me a knowing smile I’m not sure how to interpret. Or maybe I’m in denial and don’t want to acknowledge the interpretation.

“By the way, you’re welcome,” he says.

I crinkle my brows. “For what?”

“Rocco came over questioning where you went. I told him you were freshening up in the bathroom and made a joke about how long it takes you.”

“Hey!” I say, slightly offended.

Massimo laughs. “Did you want him to walk back there and see what was going on for himself?”

I let out a humorous scoff.

“Exactly,” Massimo says, as if he knowsexactlywhat happened in the bathroom.

“Well, thank you, then,” I say. “The last thing I would’ve needed was for Rocco to try and break into the women’s bathroom. As if this date wasn’t already a disaster.”

“I don’t know”—Massimo shrugs—“I’m enjoying myself. Good wine. Good food. Good company.”

A smile breaks out on my face at how easygoing and charming Massimo is. You’d have no idea this man is next in line to take over the Bonetti family.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth, “you have a little lip gloss …”

My eyes widen, and I quickly grab the napkin off the table and dab it at the corner of my mouth. “Oh my gosh,” I mutter, which causes Massimo to laugh.

Bringing his attention back down to his menu, he says with a smirk, “Oh, yeah, there’snothinggoing on between the two of you.”

I let out a giggle and shake my head as we get back to our date, which I’m beginning to realize isn’t very much of a date anymore. But while I enjoy my now platonic time with Massimo, one sentence continues to run through my mind.

It was all a lie.

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