Page 252 of Mine Again
“But the room was empty.”
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Luca
“The only thing I found was a tranquilizer dart on the balcony.”
For a moment, it felt like my heart had been ripped clean out of my chest. The devastation. The helplessness. I can still taste it, bitter as blood.
“Same kind I used in Vegas. Hale’s attempt to mock me.”
Isa’s fingers tighten on my shirt. “I hate that man and his games. You must have been so frantic to find me. I wish I could have spared you that.”
She pauses, tilts her head, lips twitching, and I can tell she’s about to try to lighten the heavy mood.
“Back in Vegas, how did you shoot the darts? Like in those adventure movies where they blow them through a bamboo tube? Or with a gun?”
The ridiculous image she paints drags a chuckle out of me despite the rawness of the memory.
“Well, I wasn’t in a loincloth like Tarzan, though I felt pretty damn animalistic at that point.”
My voice drops as the memory claws its way back, her attemptedplayfulness vanishing like light swallowed by shadow. It was my worst nightmare, something I might never get over.
“I had just arrived at the chapel when I heard the music start. God, Isa… I was so relieved I wasn’t too late. And so fucking furious that you were going to go through with it.”
My throat grows more uncomfortable with every word. “I slipped in through a side door just as you stepped onto the aisle. You looked like a dream, and I froze for a second. But then I looked at your face…” I swallow hard. “It told me everything. You didn’t really want this—”
“I didn’t,” Isa cuts in.
She grips my hand. “I don’t remember much of that evening after I got to the dressing room. There was this guy… what was his name? Dario? Derek? It started with D. Anyway, he did my makeup and hair—”
“Another guy touched you?” I straighten, staring at her, unimpressed.
She stares back like I’ve lost my mind. “Luca. He was very, very gay. No need to get worked up.”
I sink back into the seat, dragging a hand over my face, my edges frayed from the wound this conversation is poking at.
“Please… continue,” I say, forcing myself to stay calm.
“Anyway, he was going on about how hot Sebastian was, and all I could think about was you. I might have told Derek… or Dario, whatever his name was… that I believed I’d only ever marry you.” Her voice falters, and the confession carves its way into me.
Tears shining in her eyes. “It felt like I was betraying you, even though I had convinced myself you were dead.”
Her words ignite something primal. She believed I was gone, yet part of her still held on.
Isa might have worn white for another man, but her vows were mine before they were ever spoken. They’ll always be mine.
She pauses, collecting herself, but I can see it all over her face. Even though her memories blur at the edges, the emotions are cutting her fresh all over again. Same as me.
“The only way I could cope was to drink the bottle of champagne Derek had in the room,” she continues, her tone sad. “He tried to stop me after a couple of glasses, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I needed to drown everything. Needed to numb what I was about to do.”
She swallows; the words catch in her throat. “I kept telling myself that marrying Sebastian would give me a normal life away from the Mafia. That it would finally free me from being a pawn in someone else’s game.”
Isa’s eyes grow more watery, and she swipes at them with the back of her hand.
“God, I’m so sick of crying over this.” Her voice cracks, but it doesn’t stop the tears from spilling in hot trails down her cheeks.
I ache to take them away, to crush her to me so tightly she never doubts again, so she never questions what she’s worth.
