Page 17 of (UN)Bounded

“What? Do you know which brother?” I ask, heat rising in my chest.

“No, boss. I didn’t hear his name.”

“Okay, thank you, Rocco.”

I take a sip of my wine as I think this through. If she had called Luca, I’d have already heard about it. He'd be giving me shit the entire flight from Chile to Italy. That means it can only be Gio. Maybe leaving the States for a while would be good for him. Time will tell.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there? I thought by now I’d find you making out with a girl or two by the beach.” Vicente pulls me out of my thoughts as he sits beside me, and a waiter brings him the menu.

We’re staying at a private villa, and the service is top-notch. I always enjoy coming here. The views are spectacular, and yes, as my brother loves to point out, I’ve had my fun here.

“Nah, bro. Those days are over. The last thing I want these days is to catch a disease or get someone pregnant.”

Vicente laughs at my answer, and I simply smile at him as he orders his lunch.

“So I just got word that Bella bought a cheap car, and Gio is on his way to Bologna.”

My brother’s laugh dies quickly, and his eyebrows shoot to the sky.

“Oh, shit. Gio…?” Gio rarely ever travels anymore. So yes, it’s a big fucking deal that he’s going to Bologna.

“I honestly don’t understand what’s going on with Isa,” Vicente continues. “When you said you were hosting her for the summer, I just thought you were going to let her stay in one of your apartments and call it a day. You don’t need to babysit her, you know?”

I pass my hand across my face as I heave a frustrated sigh. I know Vicente is right, but for some reason, the moment I saw her at the airport, I decided to claim her as mine.

“I don’t know, man. That’s what I thought, too. That was the plan, actually, but then Luca called and gave me the guilt trip and…” I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a crazy person.

“And then what?” Vicente asks, not missing a beat.

“And then I saw her,” I tell him honestly.

“What do you mean ‘and then you saw her’?” Vicente is fucking relentless; he won’t let me get away with not spelling it out for him.

“I know I’ve seen her many times in the past, but the moment I saw her walking off my jet… I don’t know. I felt an urge to protect her.” I know I’m not making any sense, and it frustrates the hell out of me because I’ve never been like this before.

“So you decided to leave Bologna to avoid her? Wow, brother. That’s a great way to protect her and very on-brand for a thirty-year-old,” Vicente states with too much joy in his voice. I glare at him, but it only makes him dissolve into a fit of laughter, and I can’t help it; I join him.

“Fuck, man. I’m like a teenager ogling her like I've never been with a woman before,” I tell him. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough, so I toss my napkin at him and continue. “Last night, when I came home, she was dancing in the living room. Did you know she used to dance ballet and then transitioned to contemporary dance? And, I kid you not, she almost brought me to tears just by seeing the passion in her every move. It was just beautiful. And then she prepared niños envueltos for dinner. I almost melted on the spot.”

“She can dance and cook, so what? Don’t you have enough money to hire chefs for a restaurant? Oh, wait a minute. That’s right. You already own a restaurant, which, by the way, has three Michelin stars,” Vicente deadpans, and I want to erase the smirk off his face. I really dislike it when he’s so shallow.

“It’s not only that, weón. She has a pretty amazing plan. Did you know her goal is to open a gallery? One of the reasons she’s in Italy is to scout Chilean and Argentine artists to bring their art back to their home countries. She’s just simply amazing, smart, beautiful, strong. She’s the whole package.”

I take a deep breath and think about all the little things I like about Bella. “She has this bubbly personality that I’ve never been into before. It reminds me of when I started my architectural firm. Now, I feel like I’m just working because I’ve created this huge name that I can’t escape. I feel like if I try to reinvent myself, the industry will push me down.” I take a big gulp of my wine, asking the waiter for a refill.

“You are Gabriel fucking Godoy. You’re a hell of a good architect—your eye for intricate designs with a modern flare is what has given you your name. But don’t think for a second that’s the only thing you can be. You’ve worked hard for where you are, brother. You are your own boss. If you decide to take on a new venture and it flops, guess what? It’s not the end of the world. You can rebuild and recoup the investment. It’s not like you’re using your entire fortune. Right? So if that’s what’s holding you back, don’t waste more time thinking about the potential outcomes and just do it.”

I’m stunned at Vicente’s speech. He has always been so stuck in his ways. I wish he’d take his own advice.

“You’re right. Thank you for the advice.” I look at him sympathetically. “Now, how about you apply it to your own life?”

His face immediately transforms—the walls he usually keeps up to protect himself from the outside world resurface, blocking out even his brother at the mere suggestion of introspection. Damn, I should have waited a little bit longer to tell him that.

“Let’s circle back to the issue at hand. What are you going to do with Isabella when you get back? I don’t think you’re planning to stay here for the next three months.” A damn smirk appears on Vicente’s face, and the asshole I’m used to is back.

It irritates me to no end that Vicente refers to Bella as an issue. My nostrils flare, and it suddenly hits me: this is what she must feel when all of us men make decisions on her behalf.

Fuck.

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