Chapter 177
After Isabella fainted, she sank into endless darkness.
The blaze of the explosion, Vitale's bloodied arm, Eva's figure disappearing into the flames...
These fragmented images twisted and spun in the dark, weaving into the most terrifying nightmare.
Isabella felt herself falling, torn between scorching heat waves and icy pools of blood. Vitale's desperate shouts echoed in her ears, yet they seemed so far away.
"No!"
She jolted awake from the nightmare, her heart pounding painfully, cold sweat soaking through her thin pajamas.
In front of her was an unfamiliar ceiling, an unfamiliar soft bed, and the air carried a faint smell of disinfectant mixed with a cold, masculine scent of cologne.
This wasn't Barton's prison cell, nor was it the cliffside cabin Eva had taken her to.
But the overwhelming panic and the lingering fear from the nightmare clouded her judgment.
Only one thought filled her mind.
Escape! Get out of this strange place! Get away from any cage that might trap her!
Isabella flung off the soft, warm blanket, not even bothering to put on shoes. The cold floor stung her bare feet, but she didn't notice.
Like a frightened deer, she stumbled barefoot toward the closed door.
Her trembling fingers fumbled with the doorknob. As soon as the door cracked open, she couldn't wait to rush out.
Instead, she crashed hard into a solid, warm chest.
The scent of male hormones, mixed with a faint hint of tobacco and a familiar, comforting smell, instantly enveloped her.
But panic blinded her senses. She thought it was a new guard, one of Barton's men, a devil like Aldo.
"Let me go! Let go!" Isabella screamed, her hands clenched into fists, pounding with all her strength against the man's iron-hard chest and shoulders. Her feet kicked wildly, tears and fear spilling out uncontrollably again, "Let me go! Please, let me go! Vitale, Vitale, save me."
Her struggles and cries were so desperate, so fierce, as if she was releasing all the fear and pain she had bottled up over the past few days.
The man she was hitting didn't let go. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her even tighter, like iron clamps, pulling her closer, almost as if he wanted to merge her into his body.
He lowered his head, his warm breath brushing over her messy hair, a low, hoarse, familiar voice sounding in her ear, piercing through the fog like thunder, "Isabella, it's me..."
He paused, as if making sure she was aware, or perhaps calming his own turbulent emotions, before saying clearly and firmly, "I'm Vitale."
Her pounding stopped abruptly.
Isabella's body froze, as if someone had hit a pause button.
Her rapid breathing echoed loudly in the quiet hallway.
Slowly, she lifted her head from the safe embrace.
Tears blurred her vision. She blinked hard, then blinked again.
The face before her looked worn out, with dark stubble on his chin and sunken eyes. But those gray-blue eyes were fixed on her, unblinking, filled with overwhelming joy, heartache, relief, and a deep, possessive love that threatened to drown her.
It was Vitale.
It was really Vitale.
Not a dream, not a hallucination.
He was right there, holding her with his real warmth and heartbeat.
The joy of reunion crashed over Isabella like a tidal wave, breaking down her last defenses. What followed was an even stronger wave of grievance and lingering fear.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat felt blocked, only broken sobs escaping.
Tears poured down like a broken dam, soaking Vitale's shirt in an instant.
Seeing Isabella cry so hard, Vitale felt an unbearable ache in his heart, completely at a loss.
He clumsily tried to wipe her tears, but they only fell faster.
In the end, he chose the most direct, instinctive way.
Vitale lowered his head and kissed her trembling, tear-salted lips deeply and firmly.
At first, the kiss was meant to comfort, gently sucking away her tears and fear.
But when Isabella's lips parted slightly under his touch, letting out a soft whimper, the kiss turned fiery and intense.
It was the familiar taste, the familiar warmth, the familiar aggressive and possessive tongue that forcefully entered her mouth, tangling with hers.
Vitale's kiss was like a flame, instantly igniting Isabella's cold, stiff body, pulling her fully back from the nightmare into reality.
She wasn't alone anymore.
Her Vitale, her man, her salvation, was right here.
Isabella responded almost instantly.
She wrapped her arms around Vitale's neck, clinging to him completely, kissing him back eagerly and clumsily, using all her strength to feel his presence, to confirm he was real.
Her fingers slipped into his slightly curly short hair, touching the warm skin of his neck. That familiar, living touch of Vitale almost made her cry with joy.
Right at the bedroom door, they held each other tightly, kissing passionately, as if pouring all the longing, fear, and love from their time apart into this moment.
As they kissed, they moved unconsciously, stumbling and spinning back into the warm bedroom.
Vitale casually hooked the door shut with his heel, blocking out the outside world for now.
He didn't stop kissing her, continuing to devour her lips while holding her. In a few steps, he reached the bed, gently laying her down on the soft mattress. His body followed, covering her completely with his presence and shadow.
Sinking into the soft bed, covered by Vitale's hot breath and heavy frame, Isabella didn't feel trapped. Instead, she felt an unprecedented sense of safety and belonging.
She greedily breathed in his scent, felt the strength of his heartbeat, her hands frantically exploring his broad back, as if confirming every inch of him was real.
The kiss was long and intense, until both were slightly breathless, only then pulling apart a little.
But Isabella's eyes showed no satisfaction, only a deeper longing and a near-panic fear of losing him again.
She needed more, a closer connection, the most primal way to fill the huge void in her heart.
She started fumbling to tug at Vitale's shirt.
But the more she hurried, the less her fingers cooperated, unable to undo the buttons.
Instead, she only made the shirt messier.
Seeing her frantic, eager movements, with tears still lingering in her blue eyes yet shining with such vivid desire for him, Vitale felt a wave of indescribable tenderness and heat in his heart.
He chuckled softly, his laugh full of affection and a hint of restrained desire, "So eager, baby?" Vitale took her fumbling hands, guiding them to unbutton his shirt.
However, this teasing remark acted like a splash of cold water, making Isabella freeze suddenly.
She stopped everything, sitting on the bed with her hands still held by Vitale, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks.
Her gaze was complex—full of love, longing, relief from surviving a nightmare, but also the shadow of fear that hadn't fully faded.
Slowly, Isabella lifted her other hand, gently cupping Vitale's face with both hands.
His stubble pricked her skin, his face warm, and she could feel the slight tension in his jaw.
"Vitale," her voice was still hoarse from crying, yet clear, each word spoken with all her strength, "I missed you so much."
Such a simple sentence hit Vitale like a heavy blow, striking his heart and shaking his soul.
All the exhaustion, rage, and lingering fear seemed to be smoothed over and soothed by this pure, straightforward expression of longing.
He looked at Isabella's thin, pale face, slightly flushed from their kiss.
Seeing the deep dependence and love in her eyes, a love so intense it could drown someone, his heart ached deeply.