Page 64 of Isaia

Her head snaps toward me, her eyes blazing. “You meanyou’reall the same. You’re from the same world, so how are you any different?”

It’s a challenge. One that digs under my skin like a blade.

I shift in my seat, fighting the urge to put my fist through the nearest wall. Images flash in my mind—Anthony’s smug face, bloodied and broken under my hands while I cut off his motherfucking ring finger and feed it to him.

“So, you expect me to believe that you and Paladino are…friends?” I can barely choke out the word without sneering. Can a word be poison? Can a word taste like goddamn bile? “That your free will is more important to him than a power move for a Rinaldi-Paladino alliance?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything. Believe what you want.”

“It makes no fucking sense, Everly. An alliance like that will tip the balance completely in their favor. They’ll be fucking untouchable.”

“Anthony is my friend.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I scoff.

“You think I can afford that house on a waitress’s pay?” Her eyes flash as she continues, her words spilling out like she’s been holding them in too long. “Think I can outrun a man like Michele on my own?”

My jaw tightens, and I drag a hand down my face, trying to rein in the storm building inside me.

“Anthony’s the only reason Michele hasn’t sold me off yet.” She says it like it’s some badge of honor. Like Paladino’s the white knight who rode in to save her. “He made it clear—if Michele so much as touches me or follows through on any of his threats, it’ll mean war between the Rinaldi and Paladino families.”

My grip tightens around the glass in my hand, the image of that smug bastard playing protector lighting a fire beneath my skin.

“So now Paladino’s your fucking savior?”

“He’s the only one I trust. The only one who’s ever tried to protect me.”

“Yet I was the one who protected you when your psychopath stepdad tried to kidnap you.” It’s only after the words leave my mouth that I realize what I said. The bomb I dropped.

Everly’s eyes widen, her cheeks pale. “What?”

“The other night at the restaurant. His men were outside waiting to grab you the second you stepped out.”

She stares at me in disbelief, instantly pale. “What are you talking about?”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Why do you think I got you out of there so fast? Michele wants to take you back to New York, and my guess is it’s not for high tea with your mother.”

I watch her carefully as she digests it all, purposely not telling her about the guy I killed practically on her fucking doorstep. She doesn’t need to know about that.

Everly takes her empty glass and silently pours herself another drink, this time to the brim, then locks eyes with me. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

The leather of the chair creaks as she sits back down, taking large gulps of bourbon. “It doesn’t make sense. Even if he gets me back in New York, Anthony won’t marry me because I will never consent to it.”

I almost laugh at how much faith she has in this man and their so-called friendship. “Maybe he had a change of heart.”

“No.” There’s steel in how convinced she is. “He promised me, and I trust him.”

There’s that fucking word again. Trust. And now I’m seeing all these images inside my head. Him standing too close, his hand on her back, introducing her as his wife to his associates, whispering things in her ear that make her smile.

The thought alone makes my fists curl, straining the glass in my hand under the pressure.

I clench my jaw, already knowing I’ll regret asking, “Is he in love with you?”

She stares at me, not saying a word, yet her silence screams the answer so loudly my fucking ears bleed.

I’m going to kill him. Slowly. Painfully.

---