Page 99 of Isaia

It’s maddening, this duality of wanting to push against his control while feeling undeniably safer within it.

We stop at a small circle of people, and it takes me a moment to realize who they are. Isaia’s family.

Nicoli and Alexius stand side by side, their identical features and sharp gazes impossible to ignore. They’re striking in the way only men who know their power can be, but there’s an edge to Alexius, a steeliness that sets him apart.

Nicoli’s wife, Mirabella, is the first to greet me. Her warm smile and sparkling eyes immediately put me at ease.

“You must be Everly. You’re causing quite the stir, you know. Half the women here are glaring at you, and half the men are plotting ways to take Isaia’s place.”

“Let them try,” Isaia quips and eases me further into him.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Everly,” she says.

“Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you, too.” My energy feels small in comparison to hers, and her warmth is infectious.

Leandra, Alexius’s wife, steps forward next. She’s regal in an almost intimidating way, but her smile softens her sharp features. “Isaia’s plus-one. You’re braver than I thought.”

“Braver?” I ask, my brow arching.

“Isaia’s a handful,” she replies, shooting him a knowing look. “But I suppose you already know that.” There’s no mistaking the edge in her tone—something I can’t quite place.

“So, this is the woman who’s got our little brother’s balls in a twist. I’m Caelian,” he says, his tone laced with mischief. “I’m thefun one. The rest of them are all just boring assholes with sticks up their asses.”

I chuckle at that, Isaia just glaring at his brother, unamused.

His wife, Giana, rolls her eyes but smiles. “Don’t mind him. He lives to be obnoxious.”

“It’s true,” Caelian admits, unrepentant. “And she loves every obnoxious bone in my body…pun intended.”

“God, you’re such a child,” Giana quips.

Despite the weight of the event and the sheer intimidation factor of the Del Rossas, the warmth of their wives surprises me.

Mirabella and Leandra engage me in conversation, telling me about the twins, and Nicoli and Mirabella’s newborn baby girl, Natalie. And how Caelian is trying to keep Giana away from the kids so she doesn’t get any ideas.

Giana leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You look stunning, by the way. Isaia has good taste.”

The compliment eases the tension in my chest. “Does Caelian pick out your dresses, too?”

“They all do,” Mirabella chimes in. “It’s a Del Rossa thing. They want the world to see that we belong to them—stunning, untouchable, and completely out of reach.” She glances at Nicoli like she’s ready to devour him. “I love how possessive they are.”

Before I can respond, the air around us shifts. A new arrival steps into the ballroom, and though I don’t see him immediately, I feel the change. It’s subtle, like a ripple in still water, but unmistakable. When I glance over, nerves erupt along every inch of my skin.

“Anthony,” I whisper.

Isaia’s grip on my waist tightens almost imperceptibly, his body going rigid beside me. I can feel the heat of his anger radiating off him in waves, each more intense than the last, but his face remains a mask of cold, controlled indifference. To anyone else, he’d look calm—composed, even—but I know better. Beneath the surface, he’s a storm waiting to explode.

Across the room, Anthony’s gaze moves steadily over the crowd, his expression open, polite—every inch the charming man I’ve always known him to be.

He pauses briefly to greet someone, with a slight incline of his head and a handshake before his eyes find us. His lips curve into a warm, easy smile that feels more like an invitation than a challenge, and I find myself relaxing despite Isaia’s growing tension.

As Anthony strides toward us, his steps measured but unhurried, the air between Isaia and me grows heavier.

Isaia’s hand shifts slightly on my back, his palm pressing against the fabric of my dress.

Anthony stops in front of us, his smile widening slightly.

“Isaia,” he greets. “Everly. You look stunning tonight.”

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