Chapter 180 Cassian Start Work

Chapter 180 Cassian Start Work
Isabella POV

Dante pulled up to the winery in his truck and I sat in the passenger seat, feeling resentful toward my family before I even opened the door.

My father was blinded by hate, and so was everyone else. If only they understood how much this man loved me, they would be able to let go of the past and move on but the Conti were so damn stubborn that didn’t seem possible.

Dante looked at me when I didn’t hop out right away and I was almost tempted to ask him to drive back to the house but he killed the engine. “One day at a time.” Like he could read my mind, he addressed the sadness in my eyes. “Yeah…”

Dante went to work, working in the warehouse where the bottles were placed in the boxes then dollied to the storage facility before they were placed on the truck for delivery.

This man was undeniably rich, and now he was working for free....for someone else. I went into the tasting room and hung up my paintings on the walls. The nails were already there from my previous works, so these were easy to hang. I arranged them based on color, grouping similar images together so the
presentation was more aesthetically pleasing.
Mom came to my side. “They’re lovely.”

“Thanks.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“I don’t know…I don’t really have one.” My favorite painting I’d ever made was sitting in my apartment nothing else I ever painted compared to that work, probably because I’d never felt so emotional in all my life.

“Not a single one?” she asked, her arms across her chest.

“Well, my absolute favorite isn’t on this wall…”

Mom nodded in understanding, her eyes still looking over the seventeen different pieces I’d put on display. “I wonder how long it’ll take for you to sell them all. A week? The weather is nice, so we’ll have a lot of business.”

“A week seems a little unrealistic.”

“You don’t know how much people love these paintings. I didn’t have to pitch them at all because everyone enjoys their wine and cheese and gazes at them. They seem to feel something, something so strong they can’t leave without that picture, you’ll see.”

She turned back to the bar. “You want to help me out today?”

“Sure.” Dante would be working all day, so I should give myself something to do. “Hand out wine all day and talk about it? Sounds like a walk in the park.”

Mom smiled. “Just don’t drink all of it.”

“Well…we might have a problem there.”

We’d just finished setting everything up when my father walked inside, wearing dark jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. His muscular arms and shoulders stretched the fabric, and it was so nice to see him stand tall, looking healthy and unafraid. It was the perfect antidote to my nightmare, to see him alive and well.

Overcome with emotion, I came around the bar and hugged him. I held on, my arms squeezing his torso as my face rested against his chest.

My father looked down at me, hesitating before he returned the embrace. “Everything alright, bella?”

I nodded. “I had a nightmare last night…”

He patted my back and gave me all the time I needed. “Your mother used to have bad nightmares too. It’ll pass.”

“I know…it’s just nice to see you.” I turned away, hiding my face so he wouldn’t see the emotion in my eyes. I headed back to the bar and pulled out the bottles we would be serving that afternoon then y father kept looking at me.

My mother watched him. “So, Cassian is working in the warehouse today?”

Father stopped staring when my mother addressed him. “Yeah. One of the staff called in sick anyway, so that worked out.”

“Yeah, it did,” Mom said noncommittally.

“Isabella and I will do the tastings together. Her paintings are on display, and I’m sure people will be mesmerized by them, as usual.”

Father turned around and admired the paintings he hadn’t noticed before. He walked up to them, examining with the same diligence Dante gave when he looks at my creations.

Father moved his hands into his pockets and stared at them, devoting a lengthy time to just stand there when he had a business to run.

I knew I shouldn’t care what anyone thought of my artwork, but my family’s opinion mattered to me. Dante opinion mattered to me too and seeing my father study my work so closely filled my heart with a special kind of warmth.

He pointed to the one on the top left. “That’s my favorite of this bunch.” It was a painting of the city of Florence from the edge of the countryside. Erect and tall in comparison to the low hills, the city stood tall like a skyscraper.

“I’ve seen this very view all my life, driving to town or the market…” He turned back around. “But I like them all.”

“Thanks, Father.” I smiled.

Father came back to Mama a few moments later, his expression softer than it had been before then he leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek, the simple gesture carrying the kind of familiarity that came from years of loving someone. “Free for lunch?”

Mama looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I’m always free for lunch. You’re the one who usually isn’t.”

There was a teasing edge to her voice, but I could hear the affection underneath it. She wasn't truly complaining.

Father smiled. “Well, I’d like to set some time aside for you today.”

Her expression softened, and she gave him a look that made it obvious she appreciated the effort, even if she wasn't going to make it easy for him. “I’ll think about it.”

He chuckled softly before leaning down to kiss her cheek again then he walked out, leaving Mama with that same faint smile on her face.

I watched them, and a familiar warmth settled inside my chest.

I had always noticed my parents' affection for each other, even when I was young. It wasn't always in grand gestures or dramatic declarations.

Sometimes it was something as simple as a kiss on the cheek, a teasing remark, or the way they looked at each other after all those years together, their love had always felt natural to me.

I had grown up watching and quietly wishing for myself. The kind of love I wanted to find in my own marriage someday.....a man who would still make time for me, still look at me with affection, and still find little reasons to remind me that I mattered to him.

Back then, I never could have imagined how close I already was to having it but little did my parents know, the exact relationship I had always admired in them was the same kind of love I shared with the man I loved right at that very moment.