Page 444 of Rosetti Family New York
But something in his tone suggests we should leave soon. I've learned to read the subtle shifts in his voice, the way business Matteo is different from the man who whispers filthy promises in my ear at three in the morning.
"Important meeting?"
"The kind where you remind people why they pay us for protection instead of seeking it elsewhere." His smile is sharp, dangerous. "Nothing you need to worry about."
Except I do worry. Not because I'm afraid of his world anymore, but because I've become part of it. The Rosettis don't just tolerate me now. They respect me. Look to me for insight, for the kind of strategic thinking that comes from years of navigating Chase's manipulations.
"Should I come with you?"
His eyes sharpen with something that might be pride. "Would you want to?"
But a few months ago, the idea would have sent me into a panic attack. Now I just nod. "If you think it would be useful."
"God, you're perfect." He kisses me again, harder this time. "Dom will love having you there. The Torrino brothers respond better to elegant intimidation than the kind that involves breaking kneecaps."
The casual way he says it makes me laugh. These past months of learning that violence is just another business tool, that the men I've come to love would do anything to protect what's theirs. That I'm part of what's theirs now.
"I'll need to change."
"You'll need to do more than that." His hands slide up to cup my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones. "You'll need to put on that mask you wore for Chase. Cool, untouchable, better than everyone in the room."
"I can do that."
"I know you can." His voice is rough with something deeper than lust. "They look to you because they see what I see. Strength wrapped in elegance."
The words settle warm in my chest. Not the empty flattery Chase used to manipulate me, but real recognition of who I've become. Who I always was underneath the fear.
"What time should I be ready?"
"Nine-thirty. Wear that gray Armani." His grin turns wicked. "The one that makes me want to bend you over my desk."
"Matteo."
"What? It's a fact." He kisses my neck, teeth grazing skin. "Though maybe save that thought for after the meeting."
I push at his shoulders, laughing. "Go shower. Let me drink my coffee in peace."
"In a minute." He doesn't move, just holds me against him like he's memorizing the moment. "Isabella?"
"Yes?"
"This. Us. It's not going anywhere, is it?"
The question surprises me. Not because I doubt his feelings, but because Matteo Rosetti doesn't ask for reassurance. He takes what he wants and holds it with both hands until the world bends around him.
But I understand what he's really asking. If I'm here because I want to be, or because I don't know how to leave.
"No," I say softly, meeting his eyes. "It's not going anywhere."
Relief flickers across his features, gone so quickly I might have imagined it. But I didn't. Even dangerous men need to be certain of the things that matter most.
"Good." He kisses my forehead, gentle and possessive. "Because I'm never letting you go."
* * *
The Torrino meeting goes exactly as Matteo predicted. Two hours of careful negotiation disguised as polite conversation, with me playing the role of elegant authority. The brothers defer to me in ways they don't to Dom or Matteo, something about a woman's perspective making them feel safer.
If they only knew how thoroughly Matteo had trained me in reading people's weaknesses.
