Page 24 of Isaia

I didn’t expect to see him—definitely not in Ember & Bean. Anddefinitelynot dressed like he just walked off the cover ofMafia Vogue.

I steal a glance at the paperwork spread across the table, and the tension tightens in my chest. This isn’t a casual visit. Something is happening, something that sets off every warning bell inside me.

I place the tray down, avoiding eye contact, but Isaia’s gaze is penetrating, like it’s seeping through my pores.

His eyes follow my every move, daring me to react. And damn it, I’m reacting.

God, his broad shoulders fill out the jacket like it was made for him, sharp lines emphasizing the way he commands the room without even trying, looking casual as hell.

There’s a slight uptick at the corner of his lips—like he knows exactly what he’s doing and how much it’s getting under my skin.

I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to stay calm, to act like his presence doesn’t rattle me. But the way his eyes keep sliding over to me—it’s like he’s daring me with some unspoken challenge.

“Thank you, Everly,” he says, and my name on his lips is like a seductive touch down the small of my back.

Our gazes meet, and it’s a single moment of forgetting who he is, what he might be up to, the danger he represents.

My stomach twists, my insides coiled with…something—something I don’t want to name.

I leave the office as quickly as I can without making a scene, but the second the door closes behind me, I lean against it, sucking in a deep breath.

“What the hell is that?” I whisper, my heart racing.

Molly rounds the corner, her brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m either having a panic attack or a seizure. Take your pick.”

Her eyes widen with concern. “What happened?”

“Isaia just happened.”

“What?” Molly looks ready to panic.

“Yeah. He’s in there with Mrs. Wright.”

She steps closer. “Do we know why?”

“No idea, but it’s something.” I glance back at the door, my pulse still erratic.

“Shit.” Molly bites her thumbnail, glancing at the office. “I don’t like this, Everly. I’ve worked here for years, and never once have I seen a Del Rossa in here. Now Isaia’s inthere?” She points toward the office. “With our boss?”

“I know. It’s the end of the world.” Dramatic, I know. But by God, the timing for dramatics is perfect right now.

About half an hour later, after I’ve downed three espressos and jittered through my nerves, Mrs. Wright and Isaia finally emerge from the office.

I’m just about to unlock the doors to the café when I freeze, staring as they shake hands, exchanging polite smiles—the kind that hide something darker.

My nerves are already frayed, but when Mrs. Wright walks away, Isaia’s eyes lock on mine, and I hold my breath.

There’s something there, a hidden message, a challenge, and I can feel every single espresso doing its job way too well. My heart’s practically moonwalking out of my chest, and I’m one poorly timed wink away from an actual medical emergency.

He rubs his jaw as he studies me from across the room, and I can feel the exact moment he decides to toy with me. The cocky glint in his eyes is blinding.

I narrow my eyes as he takes off his jacket, tossing it over a chair before he sits. He loosens his tie, unbuttons his collar, and starts rolling up his sleeves—all while his eyes remain on me.

My pulse races.

This man is trouble. I know it. I should walk away. I should keep my distance. But every instinct, every pull inside of me tells me to walk toward him.

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