Chapter 24 What will it be?
Dante's POV
I don't know how long it has been. Maybe weeks, or months since I last heard that voice.
I stopped with the wine glass halfway to my lips, but didn't bother turning to meet the direction of the voice. That voice, the smooth, teasing tone laced with that heightened glint of a Spanish accent I used to crave.
It brought rushing back memories from the past in that split second, stirring shit I thought I'd buried deep.
I kept my cool, though. The last thing I wanted was letting her think I'm bothered by her presence. I resumed my act, sipping from my glass slowly before setting the glass down carefully on the table.
I still didn't look up when I decided to respond. "Isabella," I called her directly. "What are you doing here?"
She laughed heartily, like I had said something funny. That same light, musical sound that used to pull me in every time.
I heard her footsteps getting closer before she stood by the table. "Quite rude not to offer me a seat, Mr. Russo," she slurred out before sliding into the seat Nico had just vacated.
I didn't meet her eyes though, preferring to stare at my glass in hand while I could feel her gaze on me all the while. "I ask again," I dragged out. "What are you doing here, Issabella?"
She laughed again, then I caught the sight of her lifting her leg over the other like she owned the place. Those bare, smooth looking legs. "I was in town," she said and I could practically picture her shrugging. "Thought I'd visit an old friend."
I scoffed, finally lifting my eyes to meet hers and I regretted it immediately.
Damn it. She looked even better than I could remember. Her hair had grown long, wavy black and falling over her shoulders neatly. Her olive skin glowed under the dim lights and those deep brown eyes stood out regardless of her thick lashes.
She looked the epitome of classic Spanish beauty, sharp cheekbones and full lips painted red. She looked to have added too, from what I could see, her curves looked more pronounced.
Her hips were wider now and everything looked thicker in the best possible way. My gaze lingered a second too long before I pulled it down.
"Friend?" I asked, keeping my voice flat. "Last I remember, we parted ways for good, Isabella."
She tilted her head, flashing me that confident smirk she always wore. "We? Oh, Papito, you mean you decided for both of us."
I gave her a hard look. "Your services were no longer needed, you became my past when I made that decision," I spat out.
She laughed, taking me by surprise. "After how long, Don?"
She leaned forward slowly, letting her chest brush the table top of the table just slightly. My eyes dropped instinctively, falling on those round, perfectly shaped cleavages that fought against her low-cut top.
I peeled my gaze away as quickly as I had let it fall, then to her hand as she reached for my wine glass. She picked it up delicately as her fingers brushed the rim of it.
I caught her eyes, then her smirk. She'd caught me staring.
"Fuck," I cursed under my breath and heard her giggle lightly.
She brought the glass to her mouth slowly, flicking her tongue out to lick the brim. Teasing me deliberately. She took a sip, then licked her lips again. Her eyes never left mine all the while.
"What game are you playing?" I asked in a low rough voice.
She set the glass down, acting all offended. "Game? That's rude, Dante. I came all this way to see you again, and you think I'm playing?"
"Then what the hell are you here for?"
"Simple." She leaned in closer. "I missed you. Wanted to see you."
I hardened my tone. "Quit the bullshit and get to the point. Or get the fuck out."
She pouted dramatically, popping a finger into her mouth. "You're hurting me with your words, Papito."
I shook my head, rolling my eyes around the empty room. We were all the way at the highest floor, just the two of us. "How'd you even get in here? No one's supposed to come up."
She shrugged. "I still have my ways around. Besides, have you forgotten so quickly? I used to rule everything by your side."
"That was the past."
"A past that lasted ten years?" She asked almost immediately, tilting her head at me.
I gritted my teeth. "You know damn well it only dragged on cause of our parents."
"Yeah." Her voice turned sharp. "And after your father died, all you did was bring home different women. You even had the guts to screw some of them right in my face!"
"Watch your tongue," I growled through gritted teeth.
"Or what? You'll hurt me more?" She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I thought we'd get married. Ten years, Dante. You had my body every way you wanted and never got tired for ten years! After all that you just sent me away like trash?"
My fingers tapped my lap repeatedly. My patience was running slim fast. "Enough!"
But she kept going. "I know you still miss it. No one gives it to you like I do."
I scoffed. "Apparently, you've got nothing real to say. Time to go."
She stood slowly, then twirled around, showing off every curve. Her hips swayed dangerously in my face. Her ass so round, so full.
I didn't want to look, but damn, she was way thicker than before. Her skin even looked fairer and smooth, begging to be touched, to be licked.
I forced my mind to Serena, her curves, her soft tender body with a fierce heart. I pictured her naked, the way she arched under me. But Isabella's movement pulled me back as she dropped right onto my lap.
I tensed up. "Get off!"
"Is that what you really want?" She smirked, shifting seductively over my crotch. She grinded into me, pressing down on my now hard dick with her soft ass.
"Get... off."
She leaned in. Her lips were inches from mine. I could feel her warm breath on me, even her sweet cologne. "Are you sure you want me to get off... or get my clothes off?"
"Fuck—off," I struggled to let the words out but it cracked on its way. Her ass on me and that familiar scent stirred some old nasty shit.
She smiled wickedly, like she knew exactly what she was doing. "I locked the door on my way in. There's staff around, work's closed for the day," she explained slowly.
Her hand stretched behind me, pulling the rope and dropping the curtains. "So... what is it going to be, Papito?”