Page 62 of The Veiling

I glanced down at my bloodied dress and dug my phone from the pocket, placing it to my ear.Giacomo.

Hello, Miss Ayala. So sorry, I was in the guard house when you called me. What can I do for you?

I twisted my blood-splattered hand, observing the mess. Then, my eyes trailed down my attire.I just got finished with something and need to clean it up, but would you please take me to the juice bar down the road afterward?

Absolutely. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.

Sounds good.

My morning of important meetings regarding some overseas business deals, and one with Miguel about Jesse, turned longer than I thought it would. Once I was home, I got ready in a hurry and drove Isabelle and I to the country club for dinner. Security accompanied closely but kept their distance enough to allow us adequate privacy. More than I was used to. Isabelle was pleasant, but extra quiet on the way. Reaching over, I rested my palm on her thigh while she stared out the window.

“You okay, bella?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed.

“I’m sorry it took so long today,” I apologized, “but I had to handle some things that were unavoidable.”

“Cool, no problem at all.”

“Cool,” I repeated her curiously.Hmmm. I pulled into the country club parking lot. She did not wait for me to open her door as she usually did. She stepped out the moment the black, 1971 Benz 280 SE came to a stop.

I strode to her side, presenting her with my arm. She flickered her gaze to mine and hooked her hand in the crook of my elbow. Joseph walked at my side, and Noah remained two steps ahead, opening the door for us.

Sibyl, the assistant manager, approached with a bright grin. “Good evening, Mr. Greco and Miss Ayala.”

“Isabelle’s fine, thank you,” Isabelle bit, which was unlike her. She knew the rules of formality.

I arched a brow at her, but she did not meet my gaze. I glimpsed at Joseph, then Noah, who shrugged a shoulder and shook his head.

I was unaware of whatever I had done, but it was clear she was pissed about it. I guided her to a table toward the back of the empty restaurant. A male server stepped over, pulling her chair out for her. Normally, I would have fought him to do it, but she smiled for the first time since we had left the house, and I did not want to cause a scene.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, miss.” He sped away and came back to fill our water glasses.

The moment he was gone again, I leaned forward. “Isabelle.”

She peeked up from her menu, with lifted brows. “Yes?”

“What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem, Valentino.”

Squinting, I sat back, shaking my head. Another server sped over with the same bottle of wine I always ordered. He got ready to pour her a glass, but I lifted my hand.

“Just for me, please, and no need for a tasting tonight.”

“Right,” he nodded, “sorry sir.” He filled my glass with red wine and sped away to give us privacy.

I sat back, taking my earpiece out, and tucked it inside my jacket pocket. There was too much chatter among security tonight. Propping an elbow on the armrest, I stared at her. She was looking everywhere except at me. Just as I got ready to speak, she shifted her gaze to mine. I offered a smile and sat up, reaching my hand across the table. Typically, she would grin and place her hand on mine. This time, she just watched me with an indifferent appearance.

“Bella,” I sighed, “what’s wrong? Talk to me. Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Is the baby okay?”

She nodded again.

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