CHAPTER 3:Isabella pov

Mom had made it clear that to me, that i wasn’t to meet Nicolasuntil our official introduction at dinner. I was supposed to stay in my room all afternoon like a good girl while my parents and supposed future husband discussed my future as if i were a child with no right to choices.

I was dressed in my favorite denim overall dress, with a white tank top adorned with sunflowers beneath it, i patiently waited until i heard the bell. I took off my shoe and walked barefoot, moving quietly, creeping toward the upper landing and avoiding the creaky boards.

I knelt down, making myself self as small as possible, and peered through the banister. From the sound of voices and my mum high pitched feminine greeting, my parents were exchanging pleasantries with the two men. My father appeared first, smiling his business smile, followed by her mother, who radiated delight. Then two men entered my field of view.

It wasn’t hard to guess which one was Nicolas. He towered over her father and the other man. I could see why they compared him to Luca. Broad and tall, hopefully he just had his looks; he wore a dark-blue three-piece suit that only made him appear more imposing. His expression was like steel—blank, unmoving and cold. Even her mother’s flirtations didn’t manage to get a smile from him. At least the other man looked like he was enjoying himself. Nicolas didn’t look old and certainly not overweight. His muscles were clearly defined, even under the layers of suit that fitted him perfectly. His face was a collection of sharp angles, and his dark stubble looked intentionally maintained—not the kind that came from lack of time or care.

Nicolas was a grown man, powerful, and commanding. And I — had just finished high school. What was there for us to talk about? My high school curriculum or his dead wife, i thought, with an eye roll.

I loved modern art, drawing, and Pilates. But idoubted any of that would interest a man like him. Torture, laundering money, and perhaps a few hired women were likely more his style. A rush of anxiety tightened my stomach. In less than four months, i’d be expected to sleep with this stranger, this man who might have driven his wife to her death. My hearts was already taking summersaults from the anxiety that grew in me.

But then, a flicker of guilt followed. I was making assumptions. Nicolas had lost his wife and was left to care for his children alone. Maybe he was grieving. But the coldness in his demeanor didn’t suggest it, he looked like a lot of things but definitely not a grieving man.

Still, men like Nicolas were trained to hide their emotions from a young age. His lack of expression could mean nothing at all. I guess.

“Why don’t we go into my office for a glass of my best cognac and talk about the marriage?” my father suggested, motioning down the corridor.

Nicolas inclined his head, acknowledging the offer.

“I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of in the kitchen. The chef is preparing a feast for tonight,” my mother added, her enthusiasm as evident as the wide smile plastered on her face all morning.

Both Nicolas and the other man gave her mother tight-lipped smiles.

Did Nicolas ever really smile with his eyes or his heart?

Once they had all disappeared from view, I hurried downstairs and slipped into the library, which was next to the office. Pressing my ear against the connecting door, i strained to listen to their conversations.

“This union will be good for both of us,” my father’s voice echoed.

“Have you told Isabella about the bond yet?”

Hearing Nicolas’s deep voice say myname for the first time made her heart skip. That would be the way i’d hear it for the rest of her life. Blunt and emotionless.

Dad cleared his throat. I could tell from the sound that he was uncomfortable. “Yes, last night.”

“How did she react?”

“Isabella is aware that it’s an honor to marry an Underboss.”

I couldn't help but roll my eyes,  wishing i could see their faces.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Felix,” Nicolas said, his tone sharp. “She’s not only going to be my wife. I need her to be a mother to my children. You realize that, yes?”

“Isabella is a very caring and responsible… woman.” The word felt strange as it left my father’s lips, and i took a moment to register it. I didn’t feel like a woman yet. “She’s looked after her brother’s child on occasion and enjoyed it.”

I had played with my brother’s toddler for a few minutes, but i had never changed a diaper or fed a child.

“I can assure you Isabella will satisfy you,” father continued.

My cheeks flamed. There was a long pause. Had Nicolas and his companion misinterpreted father’s words, as i had?

Her father cleared his throat again. “Have you told Luca yet?”

“Last night, after our call, yes.”

The conversation shifted to an upcoming meeting with the Capo, and my mind wandered as i lost track of the details.

“I need to call home. Faro and I would like to relax a bit before dinner. It’s been a long day,” Nicolas’s voice came again.

“Of course. You can go ahead through that door. The library is quiet, and we still have an hour until I introduce you to my daughter.”

I quickly stumbled away from the door, my heart racing. I  heard footsteps approaching. The door handle turned, and in a panic, i  slipped behind one of the bookshelves, pressing myself against it. She peeked around to see Nicolas and Faro step into the room. Father offered them another stiff smile before closing the door behind them, locking me in the library with them.

How would i get upstairs with both of them in the room?

“And?” Faro asked.

Nicolas moved deeper into the room and closer to my hiding spot. His frown was still there, but some of the tension had faded. “Exhausting. Mrs. Rizzo, in particular. I hope her daughter doesn’t take after her.”

My jaw tightened. My mother was exhausting, yes, but Nicolas’s words still stung.

“Have you seen a photo of her?” Faro asked, picking up a frame from the side table with a chuckle.

I widened my eyes  in horror. Faro was holding up a photo of me from when i was nine years old. I was grinning widely, braces showing, two small sunflowers adorning her pigtails, and wearing a polka-dotted dress with red rubber boots. Myfather had kept that photo on display despite my mother’s protests. Now, i wished he had listened to her.

“Fuck it, Faro. Put that down,” Nicolas snapped, making me flinch. “I feel like a fucking pedophile looking at that child.”

Faro set the frame down. “She’s a cute kid. It could be worse.”

“I sincerely hope she got rid of those braces and awful bangs,” Nicolas muttered.

My hand flew to her bangs. A mix of anger and embarrassment swelled inside of me.

“It works for the schoolgirl look,” Faro teased.

“I don’t want to fuck a goddamn schoolgirl,” Nicolas’s voice was harsh.

My elbow bumped a book on the shelf, sending it toppling over with a loud thud.

Silence fell over the room.

I panicked, my hand flying over my mouth as i quickly tried to slip into the next aisle, but it was too late. A shadow loomed over me, and i collided with a solid body. I stumbled backward, hitting the bookshelf with a painful thud.

My head shot up, cheeks bright red. “I’m sorry, sir,” I blurted without thought, my manners instinctively kicking in despite the situation.

Nicolas glared down at me, his face hardening. Then, something shifted in his expression as he realized who i was.

As far as first impressions went, this one could have gone a lot smoother.