Isabella Rossi never planned to return to New York, but when you're the heir to a mafia empire, plans are just... let's say, polite suggestions.
Within hours of her return, she comes face-to-face with the one man she swore she'd never encounter aga...
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Isabella Rainy kisses
The silence resumed, but my phone buzzed, the name flashing across it sending a fresh surge of irritation through me: Antonio.
My thumb hovered over the answer button, hesitating. I couldn't believe I'd been reckless enough to let him see the tattoo today—the one I swore I'd never let him notice.
Why hadn't I had the damn thing lasered off already?
Even I didn't want to answer that question.
Finally, I answered, my voice laced with sarcasm. "Miss me?"
"Always," he replied, his voice smug with that same confidence. "I've got information you'll want to hear. But I'm not sharing it over the phone."
"You know I don-" I started only to be cut off.
"Let's just say," he paused, "Let's just say the people behind this? They aren't your typical enemies. Ambitious. Ruthless. And they play dirty."
A chill traced up my spine. "And how do you know this?"
"I have my sources." His voice was evasive, like always. "I'm giving you a chance to get ahead of this. Don't waste it, bella."
"Stop calling me that," I snapped, my grip tightening on the phone. "And stop pretending you're some kind of saviour. If you're involved in this, I swear—"
"You think I'd be so obvious?" he interrupted, his voice hardening. "Come on. You know me better than that. If I wanted to take your father down, you wouldn't see it coming."
That, unfortunately, was true. Antonio was many things—manipulative, cold, and calculating—but he was never sloppy. My mind was racing, trying to piece together whether he was lying or telling the truth.
"Meet me later," he said suddenly, breaking my thoughts. "There's something you need to see. I can't explain everything over the phone."
I hesitated, my instincts screaming that this was a bad idea. But if Antonio had information that could help me find the people responsible, I couldn't ignore it.
"Fine," I said reluctantly. "But if this is some kind of trap, Antonio—"
I'll kill you this time.
"You'll kill me yourself?" he finished for me, the same words I would've said. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Midnight. Our spot."
Our spot.
Before I could protest, he hung up, leaving me staring at the screen, frustration bubbling inside me. Our spot.
Of course he meant the old cathedral, one of the few places we both considered neutral ground. It was where we used to meet back when things were... simpler. But at that place, the one where we had shared a thousand secrets—and nearly as many arguments. A place filled too many memories I didn't want to revisit.
