Page 22 of Betraying the Mafia Boss

“Yes.”

We find Naomi in one of the wards upstairs. She’s checking a patient and her eyes light up the moment she spots us. “Vincent!” She glances at me and Luca, then at the patient. “Give me a moment,” she says to us. She spends an extra minute telling the patient how well she’s doing and after she’s done, she walks to us. “You haven’t shown up for days.”

“I had business to take care of.” I’m looking around for a glimpse of Isabella. “Where’s your friend?”

“She went to take a call. I think she’s on the balcony,” Naomi answers, she’s all smiles and sunshine. “Did you miss her?”

I snort. Just when I was happy Luca didn’t ask, she does. “There’s something I need to talk to her about.”

“Then you need to hurry, I doubt she’ll be free to talk to you later.” She stops smiling when her gaze slides to Luca. “You, come with me.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Luca bites out. For someone who likes women, he is always angry when it comes to Naomi.

Naomi narrows her eyes on him. “You’d better follow quietly.” She flashes a grin at me then walks away. To my surprise, Luca follows her like a lost puppy, and without trying to argue.

It takes a while for me to find Isabella on one of the balconies on the ninth floor. She’s clenching her phone and seems far away when I find her.

“You okay?” I ask, cautiously edging closer.

She sucks in a sharp breath, then tucks her phone in the pocket of her scrubs. “I’m fine, just spoke to my Nana.”

“Is she okay?” I scrutinize her expression. She looks sad, as if she’s breaking inside and is merely holding herself together to keep from crumbling. My chest tightens with worry.

Isabella nods, then she tries to flash a fake smile but it dissipates before it can even form, giving away that I’m right about her being sad.

“What is it?” I ask, lifting a hand to cup her face. It’s so small, her skin silky and smooth. She feels like she’s made of porcelain in my hand.

Her tongue darts out, licking her lips. “My Nana is the only family member I have left, and she’s dying. I’m a nurse but there’s nothing I can do to help her.”

A sharp sting slices through my chest and a sense of nostalgia washes over me, bringing back bitter memories. I know that feeling well enough, being able to help everyone else but the people you truly care about. For a moment, I’m thrown back to that night when the full moon was covered in dark smoke and the sky was starless. I can hear the screams, the cries, the explosions. And my friend taking his last breath, his hands clenching mine, begging me to save him.

I swallow, forcing the lump in my throat down. “Where is she?”

“In a nursing home. I wish I could take care of her myself, I really miss her.” Tears well in her eyes and she looks away, pinning a distant skyscraper with her gaze. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be emotional in front of you.”

“Hey…” Placing my hands on her slender shoulders and squeezing gently, I spin her around. “You can be anything in front of me.”

She jerks away from my grip. “You don’t understand. You don’t know anything.’

I inch close enough so our clothes are brushing. “Trust me, I understand enough. I’ve watched someone I loved die, and I wasn’t able to do anything to help them.”

Her eyes soften as she looks at me. “Really?”

I nod. “It’s a kind of pain I never want to experience again. I know how bad it hurts, but the only thing you can do for you and your grandma is to love her while she’s here.”

“And you, were you able to love this…someone?”

My heart stops beating. “No, I didn’t get that chance.”

“Do you mind telling me about this someone?” She sucks in a breath. “Sorry if I’m intruding, it’s okay if you don’t want to share.”

I hate she’s trying not to pry when I actually want her to. I want her to need me, to want to know me and pry into my life, not caring about anything else. “That someone was very special to me. It’s been two years now and I still haven’t gotten over that person’s death.”

“Do you do charity work and make donations in memory of that person?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly, but I omit the part about my family. The Romano’s are well known, so I assume she’ll find out who I am pretty quickly if she’s interested in me, that is if she already hasn’t. I won’t be the one to tell her, though.

She sighs. “You must’ve have loved that personal dearly.” There’s a touch of jealousy in her tone. I like it.

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