CHAPTER 49: Fault Lines
CHAPTER 49: Fault Lines
It was another sunny afternoon. Luca had taken the day off from work to meet up with Isabella's doctor's appointment, and they were now having lunch at home.
She felt relaxed and completely at home, which was surprising to her since she was supposed to be on a mission. It was even more surprising that she was wearing one of Luca's oversized shirts again, and she made no conscious effort to hide how happy she was to be spending time with him.
Riccardo however was livid as he watched their romantic gestures, and even his food refused to go down correctly. His eyes kept darting back and forth between Luca and Isabella with visible irritation, and every quiet laugh they shared between them felt like they were mocking his presence.
Luca, for his part, wasn't even helping matters. He seemed entirely uninterested in anything else except Isabella.
He kept touching her hand unnecessarily, and his tone was very low and conspiratorial as if they were sharing secrets that didn't concern him. Whatever she murmured in response as he spoke made him smile…an actual smile that was soft and genuine…and Riccardo felt his anger rising with every passing second at the sight of them.
“So,” Luca said casually, cutting into his food without looking away from her, “are you still convinced that my coffee is terrible?”
Isabella grinned like a spoiled brat. “Actually, I’m pretty much convinced that you have no taste.”
“That’s slander,” Luca retorted, laughing out loudly and finding an excuse to touch her again.
She kept on grinning. “I'm actually being honest, Don Moretti.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re hurting me, Bella.”
Now he was rubbing her hand lovingly as he spoke.
“You’ll survive,” she replied sweetly, reaching for her glass.
Riccardo couldn't stomach anymore of the cringy madness in front of him. Without hiding his irritation, he angrily stabbed his fork into his chicken.
“I was saying,” he began coldly, “that Vazquez has been quiet for too long. That kind of silence should be telling us something don't you think? I personally believe he may be up to something sneaky.”
Luca hummed distractedly. “We’ve handled this case already, Riccardo. Let it go.”
“Let it go?” Riccardo asked in disbelief. “You’re brushing it off again.”
Luca finally looked at him, with a mildly annoyed look on his face. “I already told you multiple times, Riccardo. Vazquez has been out in his place, and there's nothing more to do unless he decides to challenge my warning. Until then…we'll go on with business as usual.”
“You're getting it all wrong,” Riccardo continued stubbornly, not wanting to lose Luca's attention. “We have to send a message that will also put off any possible attempts from the other families.”
But as he spoke, his eyes glanced disdainfully at Isabella, and Luca’s eyes darkened instantly when he noticed.
“Finish that thought carefully,” Luca warned.
Riccardo swallowed his next words, but the damage was already done. Isabella had noticed it all…the hostility, and the way Riccardo’s attention kept circling her.
She smiled slowly and deliberately leaned closer to Luca.
“What was it you were saying earlier?” she asked him softly. “About that gallery opening in Brooklyn?”
Luca’s irritation melted immediately, and he smiled sheepishly at her. “That I’d go with you if you wanted.”
Riccardo stared in surprise.
“Are you fucking serious?” he demanded. “You’re talking about gallery openings while our enemies are possibly regrouping to strike at us?”
Isabella turned her attention away from Luca and stared directly into Riccardo’s eyes.
“You seem very interested in Luca’s schedule and what he chooses to do with his time,” she said coldly. “Is that your job now? His personal chaperone?”
Riccardo's temper flared, but he forced himself to remain calm. “You don’t belong in these discussions, Isabella. I suggest you leave men's talk to them and focus on the child you're carrying.”
“It’s a pity,” she replied smoothly, “I’m actually here and not the one throwing tantrums like a pregnant teenager.”
Luca reached for her hand under the table, brushing his thumb against her knuckles in a gesture so intimate it made Riccardo’s blood boil even more.
“I think we've all said enough,” Luca said calmly. “We should focus on having a peaceful lunch instead.”
Riccardo laughed humorlessly. “No Luca, I think you should know when to keep your mistress under control.”
Isabella tilted her head, amused at the comment. “Careful now, Riccardo. You’re starting to sound quite jealous.”
“And you’re playing a dangerous game,” he shot back, ignoring the death stare from Luca.
“So is everyone at this table,” Isabella replied with another infuriating smile.
It seemed the tension was about to escalate even further when Isabella's phone suddenly started ringing.
She froze when she saw the name of the caller, and a subtle look of concern appeared on her face…a look so quick that anyone not watching her closely would have missed it.
But not Riccardo. He had seen it all…even when Isabella rejected the call.
When she thought she had escaped from Dante's disturbance however, the phone started ringing again.
She glanced worriedly at Luca, but he was focused on his plate, completely unaware or uninterested.
Riccardo, however, felt a slow, malicious satisfaction bloom inside him.
“Well?” he asked cunningly. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“It’s nothing important,” Isabella replied dismissively, rejecting the call yet again.
The phone rang yet again, even more insistent this time around, and Isabella cursed Dante furiously in her mind.
Riccardo was not done with his attack. “Sounds pretty important if you ask me.”
She ended the call without answering yet again, but the phone still rang again almost immediately.
Luca finally looked up, with concern now replacing his earlier nonchalance. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” Isabella said quickly. “It’s just…someone who doesn’t know when to stop.”
Riccardo smiled thinly. “Quite persistent aren't they?”
She shot him a warning glare.
“Take the call, Isabella,” Riccardo continued in a smooth voice. “Wouldn’t want whoever that is to feel ignored.”
“She just said it's not important,” Luca snapped.
“But don’t you think it’s strange?” Riccardo pushed even further.
“What’s strange, Riccardo,” Luca said coldly, “is your sudden interest in her phone.”
The ringing started again, and Isabella's hands actually trembled now. She stood up abruptly, but not before glaring savagely at Riccardo.
“Excuse me.”
She turned the phone off entirely, fingers moving fast, then looked at Luca with forced composure. “It’s handled.”
Riccardo watched her like a hawk.
“Handled,” he repeated. “Interesting choice of words.”
Luca stood up as well, with all his authority radiating off him. “You’re done,” he said to Riccardo. “Another insinuating word and I'll be forced to kick you off my lunch table.”
Riccardo’s smile vanished, and he pushed his half finished meal away from him.
Isabella exhaled quietly, with relief now flooding her face. She gave Luca a grateful look, one that earned her a smile of approval in return.
Riccardo noticed that too as he stood up slowly, and his eyes never left Isabella.
“You should be careful,” he said to her softly. “Secrets don’t stay buried for too long in this house.”
“Neither should lies and false accusations,” she replied boldly.
Riccardo turned and left the room without another word.
Isabella sat down again, then reached for Luca's hand.
“It's really nothing important…”