Page 32 of Vicious Behaviors
“It sure is,” he grins. “Boss has been over the moon all day since he saw it.”
I can’t believe it. I was almost losing hope that Stella would ever set foot in this gym, even after Carmine told her of the new changes he’s making to it. But as I glance around the gym, disappointment flickers in my chest when I don’t see her.
“Is she late?”
“Nope. She’s waiting in the office.”
“Of course she is,” I murmur, smiling.
Finally! Some quality face time with at least one Romano. Suck it, Haynes!
I quickly head toward Carmine’s office, but immediately feel glacial blue eyes tracking me the entire way there. I don’t need to look to know who’s glaring at me. I know the heat of Marcello’s death stare by heart. I do my utmost best to shake the sensation away and plant my warmest smile before knocking on the doorframe, letting Carmine and his guest know I’ve arrived.
“Speak of the devil,” Carmine sings. “Here she is now. We were just talking about you.”
“All good things, I hope,” I reply politely, sizing up the woman in front of me.
The first thing that pops to mind is that Stella Romano is her mother’s spitting image. Flowing red hair, sparkling emerald eyes, and a bone structure that could ruin a cover model’s day. However, her smile isn’t as gentle as her mother’s. Stella’s grin is sharper and far more mischievous. At first glance, she might pass for just another pretty face, but upon closer inspection, you’ll see there’s far more to her behind those radiant eyes.
“So you’re the infamous Isobel,” she says, extending her hand. “DeLuca can’t stop raving about you. I got curious and had to see for myself what kind of trainer you are.”
“Please, call me Izzie.” I shake her hand in greeting. But as I do it, I can’t help noticing the trace of sadness in Carmine’s eyes after Stella referred to him as DeLuca instead of grandfather.
A strange reaction to have, considering he’s not really her biological grandfather and just a more of a grandfather figure in her life. Especially since it’s common knowledge that all of her grandparents, both on her mother’s and father’s sides, have long since passed away. Not exactly worth his feelings getting hurt in my view.
“Well then, since you’re already dressed for a session, how about we go and warm up, and you can see for yourself.”
“I like the sound of that.”
I turn to lead her out of the office, expecting her to follow, but instead she lingers back, whispering something into Carmine’s ear before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Carmine lights up like a Christmas tree, hurt feelings long forgotten.
Odd. So she does care about him, even if she tried to pretend not to. Why all the pretense?
I don’t have time to wonder for long, because before I know it, Stella breezes past me and heads straight to the heart of the gym—the boxing ring.
She takes two fingers to her lips and lets out a whistle that slices through the gym, silencing everyone in it.
“You about done, Mar? I need the ring.”
Marcello’s gaze bounces off from his sister to me, a sly smile curling to his lips. Something about it makes my insides quiver, though I blame my last client for filling my head with… unprofessional thoughts.
For putting filthy images in my head.
“Sorry about this,” Marcello says to his opponent, and without warning, lands a jab that knocks the guy out cold on the mat. “It’s all yours,” he adds, still smiling as he lifts the ropes for Stella to climb in.
“Thank you.” She winks at him, then turns to the small crowd now gathering. “You. You. And you.” She points to three random guys, then nods toward the unconscious man still on the mat. “Clean this up, please.”
They scramble without question, dragging their friend out and mopping up the pool of sweat he made.
“You don’t mess around, do you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ in the end.
I laugh and climb into the ring, only for my heart to stutter when Marcello lifts the ropes for me too. Tongue-tied at the unexpected gesture, I make the fatal mistake of glancing up and looking deep into his eyes. Today they are a clear, warm blue, like a summer sky after a storm.
“Thank you,” I manage to say, but Marcello doesn’t reply. Instead, he darts a glance over at his sister, a silent exchange that only they are privy to.
“Well, this should be fun,” Stella grins, ear to ear.
