Chapter 105 Make Your Choice
Isabella POV
I have ended things with Dante because my father would never accept him. I wanted someone my family would embrace, someone they would love like their family. Meeting a handsome man my father approved of seemed like the best way to accomplish that. “I’ll give it a shot. Can’t hurt, right?”
Mom smiled. “Nope. Can’t hurt.”
After my mom left I returned to the solitude of my apartment, she had cheered me up during the day, taking me shopping for cute things I
didn’t really need. I handed over my few new paintings for her to sell at the wine shop. The only one that remained behind was the painting that wasn’t for sale because I could never sell it and now it hung on my bedroom wall, across from the bed.
When the bedside lamp was on, I could see it well enough to study the picture, to remember the night we met with perfect clarity. I couldn’t believe I was going on a date my parents arranged.
Well, I doubted my father had much to do with it because my mother was the mastermind behind it all but the guy was indeed handsome and successful. That was hard to find in a man, so I thought I would give it a try but If there was no connection, at least we could
be friends. I doubted I would want anything romantic with him right away since Dante was heavy on my mind all day.
He was always on my mind, someone knocked on the door. It was almost eight in the evening, far too late for someone just to drop by and there was only one person it could be, and if it wasn’t him, then that would be even worse.
I looked through the peephole and lost my breath because It was him.
Enormous, powerful, and handsome, it was him. I pressed my forehead against the door and closed my eyes, my heart beating so fast and my hand shook as I held the doorknob. He never knocked, just walked inside like he owned the place. He was respecting my space,
which must be difficult for him to do.
He must have heard me on the other side of the door because he said, “Let me in, or I’ll let myself in.” He was hostile and aggressive, our distance hadn’t changed his character at all.
I unlocked the door and opened it. In a black hoodie and dark jeans, he was as handsome as ever and his blue eyes were brighter with emotion, and the lines of his jaw were more
pronounced because his teeth were clenched together. He took a deep breath when he looked at me, his chest rising noticeably as the air entered his lungs.
He stared at me like he loved me and hated me at the same time and I could barely stand there, so I kept my distance. My hands wanted to reach for him, to grab those powerful shoulders and pull him into me not only did I want to kiss him, but I also just wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel those thick biceps, feel that soft mouth against mine. I wanted to wrap my ankles around his waist and keep him pressed against me.
His presence reverberated inside my apartment, and I could feel it seep into my pores. I could feel my breath become shaky because the chemistry between us was still scorching. As if nothing had happened, I wanted him all over again, as if I hadn’t already made my beliefs clear, I wanted to take him to bed and ask him nevern to leave.
My emotional response to him was more aggressive than it wasnbefore. I forced myself to stand back, as if the distance would make this heat more bearable. “Yes?”
“I’m here for my painting.”
I knew he would come for it. I have made it just for him, and I had no use for it. I couldn’t put such a provocative picture on my wall. “It’s in my bedroom… I’ll go get it for you.” I needed an excuse to get away from him and to make sure there was as much distance between us as possible.
I turned my back to him, but I could still feel his heat drill through my skin. I walked into my bedroom, where it was wrapped up and leaning against the wall and he followed me, his heavy foot falls hitting the floor.
I picked up the painting and turned toward him.
He was staring at the painting on the wall. He looked at it for nearly thirty seconds before he turned back to me. Fierce, his blue eyes were penetrating.
He seemed annoyed by the mounted picture rather than touched. He grabbed the painting from my hands and held it with a single hand despite the weight.
We stared at each other, the heat rising as his eyes narrowed with more anger before he turned away and carried the painting out of my bedroom.
I followed him into the living room, watching his powerful back ripple and shift underneath his hoodie.
He walked out the door and slammed it behind him and I couldn’t believe he’d walked out without saying more than a few words to me.
I followed him outside and watched him walk down the steps. “That’s all you’re going to say to me?”
He stopped at the bottom and turned around to look up at me. “We had an entire conversation in there. I could hear it, and so could you.” Cold like ice crystals, his blue eyes bored into mine. “You stood in that room with me and fought against what we both felt.
You still want me to disappear, then fine but you have to let me go. You can’t chase me out here like I owe you something.
I made a sacrifice for you, but you aren’t willing to make the same sacrifice for me. So be it.” He turned around again. “You’re asking me to sacrifice my family.”
He turned back around. “And I already sacrificed mine.” His shoulders tensed as he stared me down. “I dropped my vendetta for this. For us and for you.
I committed to this with everything I had, but you turned your back.” He stepped backward, still looking at me with his fierce gaze. “Now I’m turning my back on you.”
He turned around and walked away, his powerful physique disappearing into the darkness.