Page 156 of Arturo's Temptation

“Bells?” Luca asked with a frown as my nostrils flared and white hot rage bled into veins. Ignoring him, I stalked overto the door that led downstairs. Mumbling something to my mother, he put his coffee cup on the counter and followed me. “Where are you going?”

“To stop whatever Pa is doing,” I seethed as we reached the door at the bottom of the stairs.

With a shaking hand, I pulled the handle down before pushing the door open. Fluorescent lights slipped through the gap as we both peered through. The sight that came to me made me press a hand to my mouth.

“You leave here in one of two ways, in a body bag or on a plane with a ticket back to Britain. Your choice?” my father sneered.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, mate. Sooner you get your head around that, the better it’ll be for ya.” Arturo laughed. At the sound of my father’s fist colliding with Arturo’s face, I burst through the door.

“Don’t you dare lay anotherfuckingfinger on him!” I screamed. The room instantly went silent. My father turned ever so slightly and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to refrain from screaming. His face was splattered with blood. Arturo’s blood. The father of my child’s blood.

“Get out, Isabella!” he hollered back, his eyes not leaving Arturo’s.

Swallowing, I peered around my father’s body to find Arturo staring steadily back at me. His lip was split in two places, one of his eyes was badly swollen, and I’m pretty sure he had a few broken ribs judging by the way he was breathing shallowly.

“Hey! Don’t fucking look at her!” he backhanded Arturo’s face, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“STOP IT!” I yelled, stepping closer to the pair of them. Emmet rose from his chair as my father issued an order with a flick of a hand. I hissed as he came close. “And you can sit yourass back down.” Wisely he raised both his hands and backed up into the chair.

“You lied to me, Isabella.” Papa whispered. “How could you? With this piece ofshit!”I grit my teeth as he heaved in breaths, fury radiating from him.

“I didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t tell you.” I replied. He sucked in a breath and whirled on me.

“Don’t you dare talk back at me,” he roared. “I trusted him with you. Trusted he would take care of you and now I find that you’ve been…”

“Been, what, Papa?” I said, cocking my head to one side, my shoulders shaking with rage.

“Emmet, take my daughter back upstairs, now,” he said, turning back to Arturo.

“No, Papa! You and I are doing this, right here, right now.”

“Fine! Then tell me this… did he tell you, huh? Tell you what’s done, who he is.”

“Yes,” I whispered through a shaky smile. “Yes, he has.”

“He’s a low life, Bella.” My father shook his head, disgust clear on his face. “A nobody. I don’t understand, why him when you could’ve had?—?”

“Because I fucking love him!”I screamed, a tear dripping down my face.

“Oh, please,” he laughed, his tone sarcastic and patronising. “You don’t know what love is, how could you? You know fucking nothing about the world.”

“And who’s fault is that, eh, Lorenzo?” I said through gritted teeth, taking another step towards him. Arturo’s eyes met my own, unwavering love clear in their depths, but my father caught the look and roared again before drawing his fist back. Panicked, I yelled, “Hit the father of my child’s face again and I will walk away… Away from you, away from the business, away from this whole fucking family!” I hissed, dropping to the ground. Warmarms wrapped around me as Luca knelt down to pull me up. My breathing was ragged as angry tears flowed freely down my face.

“Bella…” My father whispered, his face turning sorrowful as he closed the distance between us, his hand reaching for mine.

“Don’t… Don’t you fucking touch me!” My voice broke.

“Bella, I—” he started, disbelief in his gaze, as the sound of cable ties breaking caught our attention. I looked up to see Arturo walking over to me, his eyes fixed on mine as he knelt down.

“You love me?” he asked, cupping my face.

“I do… I love you.” I nuzzled my head into his chest as he pulled me into his arms.

“Isabella—”

“Oh, Pa, just give it a fucking rest, will you?!” Luca protested. “What is your problem?”

“Him. He’s my problem.”

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