UNDECIDED (Wisemen Series #1)

4 | Entangled Desires

ISABELLE
___________

The shimmering lights of the casino cast a spell over the evening, turning everything they touched into glimmering spectacles of chance and thrill.

As I stepped into the grand hall, clad in a form-fitting black dress that felt like armor, the energy of the place pulsated around me, vibrant and alive with possibility.

Tonight was not just another party; it was a show of power, a gathering where the stakes were as much about personal bravado as they were about the games played at the tables.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and cigars, mingling with the underlying excitement of money won and lost in the blink of an eye.

My father, ever the gracious host, mingled through the crowd, his laughter booming above the din. I scanned the room, my eyes inevitably drawn to him-Riccardo.

He was impossible to miss, standing by the roulette table, a vision of reckless charm in a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame.

Our eyes met across the room, and something charged and electric passed between us, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that had been building all night.

It was as if the entire room faded into the background, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, locked in this silent battle of wills. The memory of our last encounter, still fresh and painful, lay between us like a challenge neither of us could back down from.

I took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and made my way through the crowd, my heart beating a rhythm of anticipation and dread. Each step closer to him felt like walking into a storm, both inevitable and dangerous.

Riccardo watched me approach, his gaze intense and unyielding.

"Isabelle," he greeted, his voice low, as I reached him. There was a hardness in his eyes, but I could see the undercurrent of something else-desire, perhaps, or maybe something more complicated.

"Riccardo," I replied, matching his tone. Our conversation started off as a courteous exchange, veiled in politeness but laden with unspoken words.

As the night progressed, the champagne flowed, and the barriers we had built around ourselves began to crumble under the weight of our shared past and the alcohol in our veins.

Laughter came easier, and so did the sharp jabs that we masked as playful banter. With each drink, our words became more pointed, the air around us charged with a mix of nostalgia and contention.

Then, the inevitable spark-the trivial yet fateful comment about a bet we had made years ago, something so small and yet, in that moment, it ignited the pent-up frustration and anger. Our voices raised, drawing curious glances from those around us.

"Why do you always do that?" I hissed, my temper flaring. "You had to bring up the past just to get a rise out of me!"

"Maybe because the past is all we have, Isabelle," Riccardo shot back, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with an intensity that matched my own.

Our argument escalated, each word more biting than the last, until the space between us was a live wire, crackling with the energy of our mutual resentment and unresolved feelings.

And then, in a moment of heated anger, Riccardo's hand shot out, grasping my arm and pulling me towards him. His touch burned, and the sudden proximity sent a shockwave through my body.

His eyes searched mine, fierce and unrelenting. And then, without warning, his lips crashed against mine.

The world tilted, the noise of the casino fading into a dull roar as I lost myself in the kiss.