Who are you?

Isla and Jaxon walked into La Pergola and Isla’s jaw was literally on the floor. 

Just when Isla thought the main dining area was heaven on earth, Jaxon led her further into a secluded VIP section tucked in a private corner. Her head tilted back as she took in the sheer elegance, trailing behind him in awe.

It was, without a doubt, the most luxurious setting Isla had ever experienced. As they settled into their seats, a waitress approached, her smile as bright as the chandeliers above.

“Mr. Waverly! It’s always a pleasure to see you,” said the waitress, “Sasha,” her name embroidered neatly on the pocket of her uniform. Jaxon responded with a faint smile.

“You always say that, Sasha,” he replied coolly, his gaze steady. Sasha then turned her attention to Isla.

“Welcome, ma’am,” she said with a polite bow. Isla returned the gesture, her own smile wide and a little nervous. Sasha glanced back at Jaxon.

“What about Mr. Alex?” she asked with a knowing grin.

“He’s not joining us today,” Jaxon said nonchalantly, setting his phone aside. “I’ll have my usual. Ask her what she’d like.”

Sasha nodded and turned to Isla. “What would you like, ma’am? You can scan the QR code on the table for the menu.”

Isla quickly pulled out her phone, scanning the code. When the menu appeared, her eyes widened. Dishes ranged close to a hundred euros each.

‘Is this just because we’re in the VIP section?’ she wondered, raising an eyebrow. Glancing at Jaxon, she silently begged for guidance.

Reading her expression, Jaxon smirked and turned to Sasha. “Bring her the usual as well.”

Sasha jotted down the order with a quick nod. “Alright! Your meals will be ready in about ten minutes,” she said cheerfully before walking away.

Isla let out a deep breath and glanced at Jaxon. Her curiosity bubbled over. “So... you really come here often?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he replied casually, his eyes fixed on his phone. “It’s one of the best spots in town.”

She hesitated, then blurted, “Why don’t you just cook?” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them. Isla froze, immediately regretting her lack of a filter. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Jaxon’s eyebrows shot up, and he scoffed. “Cook?” he repeated incredulously. “I don’t know how to cook.”

“And you don’t have anyone to cook for you? A maid, maybe? Or... I don’t know, a sister? Or—” Isla gulped, feeling reckless. “A girlfriend or fiancée?” She cleared her throat awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.

Jaxon’s lips curled into an amused smirk. “If you’re trying to find out if I’m dating, just ask me,” he teased, his voice light but deliberate.

“No!” Isla protested, shaking her head furiously. “That’s not it. I just think cooking at home could be more cost-effective—healthy meals for under a hundred euros that would last for days if stored properly.”

Jaxon leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “Really?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I had no idea.”

Isla’s face flushed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry—it’s just the broke side of me talking. You’ve got the money, so—”

“I don’t have anyone cooking for me,” Jaxon interrupted. He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “And if you’re so concerned about my health, why don’t you cook for me?”

“What?” Isla’s head snapped up. “Me? Cook for you?”

Jaxon nodded. “Why not? Is it such a bad idea?”

“No, no,” Isla stammered. “I’m just... surprised. And I’m not even a great cook.”

“Well,” Jaxon said with a calm determination, “let me be the judge of that. What do you say?”

Isla froze, her mind racing with second guesses. She didn’t trust her cooking enough to serve it to anyone, let alone someone like Jaxon. Before she could answer, her phone rang, cutting through the tension like a lifeline.

“Sorry.” Isla muttered as she fumbled through her bag to retrieve her buzzing phone. When she finally saw the screen, her heart sank slightly—it was her mother.

“Can you excuse me for a moment?” she said, standing quickly. “It’s my mom.”

Jaxon nodded, gesturing for her to go ahead. Isla hurriedly left the table, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she stepped outside the restaurant. She stopped next to Jaxon’s car and answered the call.

“Mom?” she said, slightly out of breath.

“Isla, my dear, how are you?” her mother asked warmly, her voice full of familiarity.

“I’m fine, Mom. How about you?”

“Oh, I’m doing well, my child. How’s Rome treating you?”

“Rome’s been great, Mom. And how’s Naples?”

“Naples is good,” her mother replied cheerfully. Then there was a slight pause before Isla spoke again.

“I’m sorry I haven’t had time to visit. Work’s been really hectic,” Isla said apologetically, her tone laced with guilt.

Her mother’s voice softened. “Oh, sweetheart, I understand. You’ve got so much on your plate right now. And honestly... I don’t think you’d want to be home at the moment anyway.”

Isla frowned, sensing a shift in her mother’s tone. “Why? What’s going on?” she asked, her curiosity growing.

There was a heavy silence on the other end. Isla could almost hear her mother’s hesitation before she finally spoke.

“Ivy gave birth yesterday,” her mom said quietly, “It’s Jeremy’s child—a baby girl.”

Isla froze, her mind going blank. The world around her seemed to dim for a moment as her mother’s words sank in. Jeremy. Ivy. A child. Her thoughts spiraled, and she didn’t even realize she was holding her breath.

“Isla? Are you still there?” her mother’s voice broke through the haze.

“I... I’m here,” Isla replied faintly, gripping her phone tighter as she tried to process the news.

“I know this isn’t the news you’d want to hear,” her mother continued gently, “but I thought you deserved to know. They’re also planning to get married soon, here in Naples.”

Isla tilted her head back, biting her lip to hold back the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “Yeah...” she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. “I got the invite. They emailed it to me.” She hastily wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

Her mother’s tone softened further. “Are you going to come? I mean, she’s your sister, but... after everything she’s done, no one would blame you if you didn’t. She hurt you, Isla.”

“I... I don’t know, Mom,” Isla admitted, her voice trembling as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She sniffled, dabbing her eyes quickly to avoid smudging her makeup. “I haven’t made up my mind. I really don’t know.”

Her mother’s reassuring tone came through the line. “Whatever you decide, Isla, you know I’ll support you. Always.”

Isla squeezed her eyes shut, nodding even though her mother couldn’t see. “Yes. I know,” she murmured, trying to steady her breathing. “I should get back now, Mom. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay, my child. Take care of yourself,” her mother replied softly before the call ended.

Isla lowered the phone from her ear, taking a deep breath as she leaned against Jaxon’s car. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the cool evening air calm her frayed nerves. Slowly, she wiped away the last traces of her tears and straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to compose before heading back inside.

When Isla returned to the table, she noticed the food had already been served. That was when it hit her—Jaxon’s usual was none other than the legendary seven-course meal priced at €290.

She sniffed quietly as she sank back into her seat, attempting to compose herself. Jaxon’s eyes immediately locked onto her face. 

He noticed the way her long eyelashes clumped together, frizzy and damp, betraying her recent tears. Without hesitation, he leaned over the elaborate spread of dishes, gently placing his hand under her chin to lift her head.

“Were you crying?” he asked, his piercing gaze meeting hers.

“No,” she mumbled, her voice faltering as her emotions began to bubble to the surface. Try as she might, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her resolve crumbled, and tears began to spill freely down her cheeks. The memory of her worst day—the betrayal that changed everything—played vividly in her mind.

“I’m sorry,” Isla whispered through her tears, pulling her chin away from his hand. She turned her face slightly, trying to shield herself from his gaze, but Jaxon didn’t look away.

His expression softened as he watched her break down in front of him. He didn’t say a word, knowing that sometimes silence offered more comfort than questions. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an handkerchief. “Here,” he said gently, holding it out to her.

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the handkerchief and pressing it against her tear-streaked face. She continued to weep quietly, her shoulders trembling as she let the emotions pour out.

Jaxon sat back, his food untouched. His eyes remained fixed on Isla as she dabbed at her tears, her quiet sobs filling the air between them.

‘This is the second time she’s cried like this in front of me,’ he thought, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar mix of frustration and concern. He folded his arms as his jaw clenched. His mind raced, each tear she shed stirring something deeper inside him.

‘What could hurt her this much?’ His fingers tapped lightly against his arm as his brow furrowed. He stared at her, not in pity, but with a growing need to understand. ‘Who the hell are you, and what did you do to her?’