Page 60 of Isaia

“All the Del Rossas are.” Molly studies me. “Are you in love with him?”

The question hits like a sucker punch. Love? No. That’s not what this is. It can’t be.

“It’s not that simple,” I say, shaking my head. “Isaia, he’s not the kind of guy you fall in love with. He’s the kind of guy you survive.”

Molly’s about to respond when the air around us shifts.

I feel him before I see him—an oppressive weight settling over the room like a storm rolling in.

My pulse quickens, a familiar tension coiling in my chest. I don’t need to look up to know who it is. His presence is unmistakable, filling the small space with a heat that makes the air feel too thick.

“Everly.” My name is a quiet command on his lips that speaks to every molecule of my being. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his dark eyes locked on me. “Didn’t know break time included private meetings.”

Molly straightens, her confidence faltering under his gaze. “We were just catching up.”

Isaia’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Good. Don’t let me interrupt.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his attention pinning me in place. “We should get back to work,” I mumble, standing abruptly. “Thanks for the coffee, Molly.”

She nods, worry etched across her face as I slip past Isaia. His hand brushes mine, a fleeting touch that sends a jolt of awareness through me.

“We need to talk,” he says.

“Not now, please.”

Isaia wraps a hand around my elbow, his grip firm but not harsh. “Yes. Now.”

Before I can respond, the bell chimes, and we both turn as a man strolls in.

“Anthony,” I whisper, my heart thumping wildly.

Isaia stiffens next to me as we watch Anthony Paladino stroll in like he just bought the whole damn block, his tailored suit impeccable.

His tie is slightly loosened, just enough to give off a devil-may-care vibe. But it’s the way he carries himself—an aura of quiet dominance, the kind of confidence that commands attention without needing to demand it.

It’s easy to see that even though they’re not from the same family, Isaia and Anthony are definitely gods in the same world.

My throat’s suddenly tight, my pulse thundering in my ears. Anthony’s gaze sweeps the room, calculated, assessing, until it lands on me.

A slow, easy smile tugs at his lips, one that somehow manages to look both charming and dangerous.

The tension skyrockets, and Isaia’s grip tightens. “Paladino,” he grits out with barely restrained hostility.

“Del Rossa.” Anthony’s tone is smooth, unbothered, as his sharp eyes take Isaia in. “We’ve never officially met.”

“I was hoping it’d stay that way.”

Anthony ignores Isaia’s jab as his gaze slides over to me, his entire demeanor shifting into something softer, more familiar.

“Everly,” he says my name laced with warmth. “It’s good to see you.”

Isaia lifts a brow. “You know him?”

“Ye—”

“Of course she knows me,” Anthony cuts in smoothly, taking a deliberate step closer, his focus locked on me. “We go way back, don’t we, Everly?”

The tension between them is suffocating, vibrating like static before a lightning strike. My heart pounds as Isaia shifts, subtly placing himself between Anthony and me. His presence is unyielding, a wall of protective fury.

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