Page 32 of Prince of Vice

Primo

As the haze of adrenaline begins to clear, I watch Isabella's chest heave with each breath she takes. Her body glistens with the remnants of our passionate encounter, and for a moment, satisfaction courses through me like a wave. I had longed for this moment, for her submission, but now that it has come to pass, I find myself holding back from sharing my darkest secret.

"Isabella," I say, my voice low and hesitant. "I would like you to stay here at the mansion tonight instead of going home."

She looks up at me, her dark eyes shimmering with an emotion I can't quite place. To my relief, she nods, not arguing or questioning my request. As she regains her composure and begins to right her clothing, I steal one last longing look at her exquisite form before it is hidden beneath the layers of fabric.

"Alright," she agrees softly, her lips curling into a gentle smile that tugs at something deep within me. The sensation is both intoxicating and terrifying, as it threatens to unravel the walls I've built around my own heart.

"Thank you," I murmur, struggling to maintain the facade of control that I pride myself on. The truth is, I'm terrified of allowing anyone to get too close – especially someone as trustworthy and captivating as Isabella. And yet, in this moment, I find myself craving her presence.

"Are you alright?" she asks, her concern palpable as she places a hand on my arm. The warmth of her touch sends shivers down my spine, and I fight the urge to pull her into my arms once more.

"I am," I reassure her, though my voice trembles ever so slightly. "It's just... It's been a long time since I've felt this way."

She gives me a reassuring look. "I understand."

Her words bring a small measure of comfort, but the fear still lingers in the shadows of my heart. As we sit there, our bodies mere inches apart, I wonder if I am making a mistake by letting her get so close. But despite my reservations, I know that I cannot resist the tension between us any longer.

"Come," I say, extending my hand to her. "Let's go inside."

As Isabella takes my hand and follows me into the mansion, I cannot shake the feeling that something has irrevocably changed between us. And as much as it terrifies me, I find myself wanting to embrace the vulnerability that comes with trusting another person – even if it means risking my own carefully constructed walls.

As we step into the grand entrance of my mansion, the intricate chandelier above casts a warm glow upon Isabella's delicate features. My heart beats faster, knowing that I should say goodnight and let her rest, but the thought of parting from her presence brings an unexpected emptiness within me.

"Isabella," I begin hesitantly, "I know it's late, but would you mind working on the case with me for a little longer?"

Her eyes brighten as she smiles softly, nodding in agreement. "Of course. I'm always up for late-night strategizing."

Together, we make our way to my dimly lit office, where the scent of aged leather and rich mahogany fills the air. Isabella immediately sets to work, pulling out the discovery documents and organizing them meticulously on the large oak table. Her focus is resolute, her movements deliberate, and I'm completely captivated by the sight before me.

As I watch her work, guilt gnaws at my chest, reminding me of my initial skepticism toward her abilities. The memory feels like a distant echo, drowned out by the vivid proof of her dedication and skill. I can still see the way she looked at me in the car when she pointed out that I doubted her.

I realize now that I was foolish to think I needed another attorney. It’s time to set things right.

"Isabella," I say, my voice low and sincere, "I want to apologize for doubting you in the beginning. You've proven yourself to be a formidable attorney, and your performance during this morning's hearing was nothing short of impressive."

She pauses, her cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink as she meets my gaze. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

A warmth spreads through my chest, and I find myself longing to share more about my past with this woman who has already seen the darkest parts of me. It is a new sensation, one that both exhilarates and terrifies me.

"Isabella," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper, "I think I know why I was so hard on you to begin with."

Her eyes widen with curiosity, but she remains silent, giving me the space to continue.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady my nerves. "I've always had self-doubts about whether I'm truly fit to lead the family. My father... our relationship has been complicated, to say the least."

“You know you can talk to me about your father and your childhood," Isabella urges gently, her gaze never leaving mine.

"Growing up, it was clear that my father favored Constantino over me," I admit, feeling a mixture of bitterness and vulnerability as I speak the words aloud. "You see, while I am the oldest, our father had a penchant for marrying and divorcing. Each of us sons are technically a firstborn from each of his marriages."

"Ah, I see," Isabella murmurs, nodding in understanding.

"Constantino has always been the one to side with our father when it comes to how the family business should be run," I continue. "Unlike Giovanni, I never felt we should leave the crime world entirely. However, I did believe there was merit in expanding our family into more legitimate holdings to secure our future."

"And your father disagreed with you?" Isabella asks, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Strongly," I confirm. "He could never see the wisdom in my ideas, and Constantino was always there to back him up. It wouldn't surprise me if my father actually wants Constantino to lead the family instead of me."

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