5

ISABELLA

The water cascades over my body, healing the aches that have been bothering me ever since I first got here.

Not because Dominic hurt me so much, but he did drag me through the streets and shove me into his car. I’m definitely suffering the ramifications of that.

But as I slide deeper under the water and I let my eyes fall closed, it isn’t any of that troubling me. Truth be told, I’m not panicking about anything Dominic-related.

Instead, I’m taken back in time to a few months back, the last time I was in Ireland.

I knew it was about to be a serious conversation. To have my dad and all four of my older brothers in the same room with me, was so rare, it made me feel all on edge.

Probably not the best way to feel around my family, but it’s always been that way. They’ve spent way too long trying to shade me from their life, even though I’ve always kinda known that they aren’t… you know, the heroes in anyone’s story.

The only reason I was eventually—after lots of arguments—allowed to go to New York City and to nursing school was to be able to patch up wounds, and to send back any information I hear.

Nothing to do with my dreams of course…

“So, Isabella, the reason I wanted you to come back to Ireland,” Dad started, with a darkness in his gaze. “It's because it’s time for you to get married.”

“Married?” I exclaimed in shock, dropping my fork, causing a loud clatter on the plate. “What do you mean?”

“Risty Falesco Junior has expressed interest in you, and you know how good that would be for us. He’s the second son to the Falesco’s Mafia Family, so if you wed him, it will help increase our power in Ireland.” Dad smiled, trying to sell this to me like I was going to love it. “Plus, we get to have you back here.”

“But I’m just getting started in New York.”

Why did I even bother arguing? Dadknowsthat he can usually get me to do what he wants, butthis…

“We have supported your dream,” Dad snapped, a little angrier then. I hated making him mad, but this was my life. “I let you go to America, to do your nursing. I even funded that clinic you work in, to make sure it can open twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, so you can work with the needy.”

“But I’ve repaid you, Dad. I’ve given you tip offs about anything in the city that might affect the mob. Every single time I’ve heard something from the people I’ve worked with, I’ve passed the information over to you. Haven’t I proven myself enough to you?”

Dad sighed, staring at me like I was the biggest disappointment in his life. As his only daughter, I haven’t received that look much, so it sucked to deal with.

“Isabella, you know how it is. Everyone has a role to play. Your brothers are all playing their part, giving themselves over to the Family. You need to as well.”

“But…”

Dad rolled his eyes, unimpressed with my rejection. “This is your destiny, Isabella. This is what you were born for. To help the Family in any way that you can. This is how you play your part.”

The sexist nature of the way this conversation went still sickens me to this day—the way my brothers have been actively made a part of the mob, and my role is just to ‘get married’, using my life as a business transaction.

I don’t want to be in the mob. I want to be a nurse.

Why can’t I be just that?

I left on bad terms with my family, promising to think about it.

But I don’t need to think about it. I already know I don’t want to be married to anyone picked out for me. I want to marry for love, not for some bullshit arrangement.

How does that benefit me?

To marry a drunk womanizer who will never love me, means I’ll also have to give up the life I live here. My work in New York, the people I know in the city.

I’ll have to sacrifice everything that makes me who I am.

Somehow, I’m going to have to get out of that arrangement. Now that my original plan has flown out the window, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Maybe I’ll get lucky and Risty will find someone else while I’m trapped here.

I might as well getsomebenefits from being kidnapped.

With a deep sigh, I flick my eyes open, and I take my time washing my body while I try to push the past into the background, and focus on the reality I’m dealing with right now.

The reality that involves Dominic freaking Amore.

I don’t knowwhatI’m going to do with this man, especially after that intense moment in the kitchen.

He told me he was going topunish me, but he didn’t elaborate, allowing my imagination to run away with me. I keeppicturing all the ways in which he could tell me off for being abad girl.

“What is wrong with you?” I mutter to myself as I finally climb out the bath. “Stop having these silly little daydreams. This man kidnapped you.”

But even with the ankle monitor and the electrified doors, I don’t reallyfeellike I’ve been kidnapped. Not when I can do what I want in this cabin, and say what I want too. Not when Dominic has made the effort to get me a wardrobe filled with clothing in my size.

It’s not how I imagined being kidnapped would be.

Not that I’ve spent a lot of time imagining being kidnapped, of course.

I throw a robe over me, not bothering to dress, because what’s the point in that? It isn’t like I’m going anywhere, is it? If it wasn’t for the scent of food, I would have just gone to bed.

But I’m lured into the kitchen where Dominic is cooking again.

Half naked.

Why does he always have to have his muscular chest on show? Sometimes I think it’s just to torture me. It’s as if he knows the effect he has on me.

I shake my head, refusing to be distracted by him.

He can try this all he wants… doesn’t mean it’s going to work.

“Do you think maybe I can get out of here now?” I ask as I take a seat to watch him.

“Hmm?”

He doesn’t even look at me.

“I said ‘can I get out of here?’. Why the hell are you keeping me here now?”

“I’m making Risotto. Does that suit you?”

Frustration bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I curl my fists in rage.

“Dominic, I’m trying to talk to you here. I want to know what I’m still doing here. What’s the end game? You’ve told me that I’m in trouble and I’m being followed, but that doesn’t mean I can just hide out here forever. That’s crazy.”

He says nothing.

But he does smirk.

Asshole.

“Come on, what the hell is the point of this? Just let me go. I can go back to Ireland if you want. Hang out with my father for a while until I’m safe. Surely he’d prefer that.”

Not that I’d ever go back to Ireland. Then I’ll end up married to a man I hate.

But Dominic doesn’t need to know that!

“Why are you ignoring me, Dominic? This is getting stupid now!”

He plates up the food, still ignoring me and takes the food over to the fire place.

I guess we’re eating now.

Fuck sake!

I huff and follow him, even eating what he’s cooked for me.

Mmm, this is damn good.

Maybe I should try and break his walls down a little. Get him talking to me before I renegotiate my release because I need to get out of here before I go crazy.

“When did you learn to cook?”

“Military.”

Is that all I’m getting? One word answers?

“Do you ever miss it?”

Now he doesn’t even bother to talk. Just a one shouldered shrug, that's it.

“How do you know my father?” He just shoots me a knowing look. “Come on, how do you know him? How did you become a mob guy? Surely that doesn’t just happen? Especiallyto someone who came from the military.” He isn’t giving me anything, but I’m going to keep going. See what I can get out of him. “I was born into a family already involved in that life, so I haven’t been left with much choice, but you…”

The death stare silences me.