Mafia king and demon, Noah Gabriel is everyone's fear, and the very mention of his name makes one shudder.
Everyone adores Isabella Rose Robinson, who is known as an angel, and she has her unique style of speaking.
After they meet, Noah forces her...
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"My mother is dead to me," I said, my voice steady, but inside, I was a storm. The words felt like a bitter release as I turned and walked out of the venue. Each step was heavy, like the weight of a thousand unspoken words. Noah followed closely, his presence a silent shadow that brought both comfort and despair.
As we stepped into the cold Italian night, I inhaled deeply, trying to steady the whirlpool of emotions that threatened to consume me. The crisp air stung my lungs, grounding me momentarily, but the pain in my chest only intensified.
Noah didn't say a word, and for that, I was grateful. I wasn't sure if I wanted comfort or to lash out, to scream at the injustice of it all.
"Rose," he finally called my name, his voice soft yet filled with concern. He moved in front of me, his eyes searching mine, trying to read the chaos within. I didn't know what to feel—anger, betrayal, sadness—it all swirled together, a hurricane of emotions that left me breathless.
"Come here," he said, opening his arms. I didn't hesitate. I needed this—needed him. I wrapped my arms around his torso, burying my face in his chest. His embrace was warm, safe, and for a moment, I allowed myself to believe that everything would be okay.
But I wouldn't cry. Not for her.
When she left us, she didn't hesitate. She turned her back on us without a second thought. I would do the same. I would leave her behind, just as she did to me.
I pulled away from the hug, my resolve hardening.
"Let's return home," Noah said, his hand gently guiding me by the lower back, his touch grounding me once more.
"Wait," I whispered, stopping him. The heels were starting to hurt, a physical pain that felt almost welcome amidst the emotional turmoil.
Without a word, Noah knelt in front of me and began to remove my heels. My heart swelled at the sight, but I couldn't help the whisper of concern. "Noah, people are going to see you," I murmured, aware of the curious eyes that were undoubtedly on us. Noah was too important, too powerful, to be seen doing something so simple, so human.
"I don't fucking care. Can't I help my wife?" he responded, his voice fierce yet tender. His words sent warmth flooding through me, a balm to the rawness in my heart. He carefully undid the straps and removed my heels, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away.
Then, without warning, he scooped me up in his arms, cradling me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. I gasped, a startled laugh escaping my lips. "Noah! I can walk."
"Yeah, I'm aware of that," he replied with a smirk, "but who said I'm going to allow you to walk when you're tired?" His voice was playful, but there was a protectiveness underneath, a need to shield me from everything, even from myself.
