Chapter 19: THE PAST

ISABELLA’S P.O.V. I would have enjoyed my reception better if I had been allowed to do anything. Lorenzo kept a firm grip on my waist and refused to let anyone get within five feet of me. It was cute at first but then it became annoying. I knew I was his prisoner but he could have at least waited a few hours or even days before implementing it. People were dancing and drinking while I sat there bored. I had no intention of sitting there and playing the part of a trophy wife so I waited until Matteo came over. Once they were deep in their conversation, I stood to my feet with asmile. Both men watched me with varying levels of interest. “I want to dance,” I announced and Matteo shook his head while muttering words under his breath. I turned to him. “Will you do me the honors?” “It would be my pleasure,” he took my hand and led me to the busy dance floor. He waited until we had started swaying before he spoke. “I know we got off on the wrong foot but planning my death is a low blow, don’t you think?” “I have no idea what you are talking about.” He gave me a knowing look and moved us so I was facing Lorenzo. Lorenzo was watching us with eyes as sharp as a hawk’s. His eyes were narrowed and I knew if he gripped his glass any tighter, he would break it. “I take it he didn’t learn how to share as a child.” Matteo laughed loudly. “You might just be good for him. It is refreshing to see a woman who doesn’t want him for his power or his dick. I think we will get along just fine, Isabella. As long as I stay out of the firing line.” “Where is the fun in that?” We spent the remainder of the song in silence. Matteo was a fun guy and I was sure that within my one year, he would make life more bearable. When I realized that the song was ending, I asked the question that had been plaguing me all night. “Will it be bad?” I asked and he scrunched his brows in confusion. “Living with him, will it be like a prison?” “That depends on what your definition of a prison is.” “You know what I mean.” He sighed. “We are all in prisons of our making. I would rather have a golden prison than one of brass. Think of it this way, you have some of the most powerful men at your beck and no one will dare lay a hand on you unless they want to risk Lorenzo’s anger. You never have to work another day in your life.” For the next one year, at least. I didn’t say that part out loud because I was not sure whether Matteo knew about it or not. Instead, I smiled softly and the song came to an end. He started leading me back towards the table when a man cut in front of us. I didn’t recognize him but Matteo did because he froze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lorenzo sit up straighter and I knew that whoever this man was, he was important. “I want a dance with my daughter-in-law,” it wasn’t phrased as a question. He pushed past Matteo and grabbed my upper arm. My eyes widened in panic but there was nothing anyone could do, he had already led me back onto the dance floor. As the man moved with me, I realized that he was an older version of his son. Their only difference was in their eyes and his lack of scars. There was also something off about him, something old and cruel. “What did you trap him with?” he asked and my brows furrowed in confusion. “There has to be something because there is no reason why my son would choose you out of everyone. You are a common bartender.” “I didn’t realize that making an honest living was such a bad thing,” I quipped knowing very well that I was making a mistake. “Then again, I would take advice from the man who owns an illegal empire with a grain of salt.” “You disrespectful child,” he spat in a whisper. “I can have you killed right here and no one would blink twice.” “Except maybe your son,” it was a huge bluff but it worked because he gritted his teeth. “The way I see it, you don’t like me and honestly, it is mutual at this point. I want nothing to do with you and I am sure that you feel the same. I am sure we can stay away from each other and achieve a cordial relationship.” His father was pissed. If this was a cartoon there would have been steam coming out of his ears. He looked like he wanted to stab me to death but he held himself back. “He should have picked someone better, someone pure,” he spat the words like vomit. “You look like a common street whore.” “And yes, I am married to your son. I guess that makes him my number 1 client.” Before he could respond, the song ended and Lorenzo cut in between us and pulled me out of his father’s grip. “I will be taking my wife with me now,” his father nodded and walked away. Lorenzo didn’t speak until we had gotten to the table. “What did my father say to you?” I shrugged. “Nothing worth repeating.” “If he ever bothers you again, tell me. I will make sure he understands that you belong to me.” “Don’t,” I cut him off and he turned to me in confusion. “I can handle bullies like your father. Just leave him to me, and for the record, I do not belong to you.” The corner of his lips curled up in a smirk. “You might be able to handle my father but make no mistake about it, cara mia, you are mine.” “Even if that is true, it is just for a year.” “If that makes you feel better, then sure.”