Page 9 of Isabella

That causes another eye roll from me. I shake my head and release a small chuckle under my breath, but when I glance over to my mom, she doesn’t have a reaction. Just that same smile on her face she wore earlier, holding that perfect composure of hers.

“If you’d both like to follow me, I can lead you to Mr. Silvestri. He reserved one of our private tables in the back,” the hostess says before leading the way.

The hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach comes back as I count down the steps to having to explain why I haven’t told my family about Nicco’s and my relationship.

My heart feels like it will jump out of my chest, and as we round the corner, I locate Nicco sitting at a secluded table against the far wall. He spots me just as quickly and pushes himself out of the half booth. I pick up my pace and race toward him, needing to feel the warmth of his embrace.

Acting on instinct, I wrap my arms around Nicco’s neck while his arms find their home around my waist. He squeezes me against him, and I relax and take in the alluring scent of his cologne. A smell I’ll never get sick of.

“Are we really doing this?” I whisper in his ear.

“I couldn’t let you lie to your mom. Not because of me, my sweet Isabella.”

He holds me against him, finding his space in the nook of my neck, and breathes in deeply.

While I pull away from him, my mom clears her throat from behind me, causing me to whip around. “Sorry, Mom, um, why don’t you take a seat,” I say, gesturing to the other side of the booth.

I slide in while my mom takes her spot on the opposite side. Nicco slides in next to me and takes a deep breath before saying, “Mrs. DiMaggio, Cece, if you’ll still allow it, I’ve been dating your daughter for the past year.”

My mouth dries up as the words we’ve spent so long keeping to ourselves are so effortlessly thrown out there. He just jumped right into it.

My mom looks between the two of us before giving a small nod. “I can see that, Niccolò, but what I would really like to know is why you’ve both kept it a secret for this long.”

8

NICCOLÒ

Isabella goes to speak, surely to defend my reason for asking her to keep quiet about us, but I place my hand on her thigh and give it a light squeeze to stop her. I’m the one who got us into this situation, so I’ll be the one to explain it to her mom.

She casts her gaze to mine, and I give her a small nod, letting her know I got this, then she sits back in her seat.

Cece’s sitting across the table from me as poised and elegant as ever with her back straight and her hands in her lap.

Isabella has always talked about her relationship with her mom. They’re extremely close, talking to each other every day, and that’s not just because of the mandatory texts her dad demands. Her mom checks in with her every single day to see how her classes went and what she did. Not because she’s overbearing, but because she has a genuine interest in what her daughter has been doing.

I’ve been there for multiple conversations between the two. They speak to each other like they’re best friends, not just mother and daughter.

“Before I begin, I just want to tell you that I was the one who asked Isabella to keep us a secret from you.”

Isabella tenses next to me, but I give her another light squeeze, reminding her I’m here and everything will be okay.

“I realize secrecy might not seem like the best way to go about a relationship, but I promise I had a good reason.”

Cece continues to study me as if she’s looking for any tell I’m being dishonest, but she won’t find one. The secrecy was required for Isabella’s and my relationship. It willstillbe required. The question is, can I convince Cece of the same?

“So, what is this reason, Niccolò?” Cece asks, and her tone isn’t cold, like she’s already made up her mind about me based on this discrepancy. It’s sincere, as if she wants to understand what could cause me to make such a decision.

“My dad… He’s not exactly the kind of man that feels a woman has much of a role in a man’s life other than to produce an heir.”

Isabella’s soft, warm hand wraps around mine under the table, giving me the strength to continue.

“As you know, in our world, marriages are contracts. My dad doesn’t believe in wasting time with a woman unless it’s to benefit the family, and even then, he believes their purpose is to stay quiet in the background.”

I wait for a reaction from Cece, but she gives me nothing, continuing to watch me from across the table. Sighing, I continue, realizing my excuse might be valid, but it probably makes little sense to her.

“I didn’t—” I clear my throat. “Idon’twant my dad to know about Isabella because?—”

“He wouldn’t approve,” Cece finishes for me.

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