Chapter 102
Vitale said calmly, "I've never allowed anyone to have that title. Even in the most casual, fleeting relationships, I've never given any woman that status."
"So, you should be happy, Isabella. You're the first. And the only one."
Isabella stared at him. "I am happy, but this makes me feel like you're teasing me again. You know I have no self-control around you. If I did, I wouldn't have been so easily handled by you last night."
As she said the last few words, her voice lowered, and her cheeks flushed.
Vitale stood up, walked around the small table, and sat beside her. "But you enjoyed it, didn't you?"
"Last night, when I did that to you, you held onto me, begged me not to stop, said you felt like you were dying. That was all real, wasn't it?"
Isabella's face turned even redder. "Yes, I guess it was."
Her mind was indeed missing a lot of things.
The pending bills, the contracts to analyze, the complicated numbers and logic.
Instead, her thoughts were filled with countless scenes of being intimate with Vitale.
Those images were so vivid, invading her mind so often, that she felt like she'd go crazy if this kept up.
Isabella sighed and bit her lower lip. "You know I've never really experienced love, Vitale."
"Everyone I've ever loved has hurt me in every way you can imagine. Cheating, betrayal, indifference, even violence."
She paused, taking a deep breath. "I have to admit, that's why I'm scared to fall for you. I'm afraid of getting hurt again, of finding out it's just another illusion, another betrayal."
A brief silence fell over the cabin.
Vitale reached out and pulled Isabella into his arms. "You don't have to be afraid."
"You need to listen to your heart, Isabella. Whatever your heart says, that's the truth. It won't lie to you as people do, or twist things as words can."
Vitale cupped her face with both hands and said softly, "Ask your heart, right here, right now, above the clouds, in this space with just the two of us. Ask it, do you love me, Isabella?"
Isabella's heart skipped a beat.
She looked into Vitale's eyes. There was serious anticipation in his gaze, along with a rare hint of vulnerability.
She lowered her head, her eyes falling to her chest.
Then Isabella closed her eyes and truly asked herself that question in her heart.
In the silence, the answer rang clear like a bell.
You love Vitale, Isabella.
You love this dangerous redheaded jerk.
You love his possessiveness, his protectiveness, the vulnerability he occasionally shows, and the fire in his eyes when he looks at you.
You love his dominance in bed, and you love the way he leans on your shoulder when he's tired.
You love him, even if it's crazy, even if it might hurt you again. But you love him.
Isabella knew the answer.
But she didn't want to tell Vitale right away.
Not to toy with him, not to punish him, but because she needed time.
She needed to process this, to make sure it wasn't just another impulsive feeling.
So Isabella opened her eyes, looked up, met Vitale's expectant gaze, and shook her head.
"My heart tells me not yet."
"So, Vitale, you've got to keep trying to make me fall for you."
Vitale raised an eyebrow. Disappointment flashed in his blue eyes before it was replaced by a playful look. "Baby, I'm guessing when you say 'try,' you mean..."
He paused deliberately, his gaze meaningfully sweeping over Isabella's body before returning to her face.
Isabella instantly caught his hint.
Her face flushed again, and she pushed his hand away, her tone a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. "No! Not like that! I mean, try to love me—with actions, with sincerity, with time—not just try to sleep with me."
The last part was said so softly that it was almost just a lip movement.
Vitale laughed, his voice deep and magnetic. "Really? So next time we're together, if I don't try hard, will you still feel good? Will you still reach that peak? Will you still grab my back and beg me not to stop?"
Isabella felt a wave of heat rush through her body.
She glared at him, though there was no real anger in her look.
Then she smiled, a sly grin like a cat's.
"Of course," she said softly, then turned back to her seat, wrapping herself tighter in the blanket until only her face and golden hair were visible. "Vitale, you should know, sometimes quality matters more than quantity."
Vitale stared at her for a few seconds, then burst into laughter.
He shook his head, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and something Isabella couldn't quite read.
"God, Isabella," he said while laughing, "you're really something."
Then he lay down, not returning to the opposite seat but squeezing onto the same couch beside her.
The couch was wide enough for two people with room to spare.
Vitale adjusted his position so Isabella's head rested on his chest, his arm around her shoulders.
Isabella didn't resist.
She relaxed her body, her cheek pressed against the fabric of his shirt, catching the fresh scent of cedar on him and hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
They lay there quietly, doing nothing.
No talking, no kissing, no flirting.
Just cuddling, just being.
It was a rare moment.
In their complicated, dangerous relationship full of passion and conflict, such pure, warm moments were incredibly scarce.
No schemes, no threats, no crises to handle, no enemies to guard against.
Just sunlight, clouds, the hum of the engines, and each other's heartbeats.
Soft jazz music started playing in the cabin.
It was Vitale's kind of music, the saxophone lazy and sensual, like honey melting into whiskey.
Isabella listened to the music and Vitale's heartbeat, her eyelids growing heavy.
Vitale's fingers gently played with her golden curls, his touch as tender as if he were petting a kitten.
"Isabella," he called her softly.
"What is it?" Her voice was already laced with sleepiness.
"Why did you impulsively leave last night?" Vitale asked, his tone quiet but carrying a hint of seriousness. "If I hadn't come back, if I hadn't gone to your apartment to find you, would you have kept misunderstanding? Kept thinking I was with another woman?"
Isabella's drowsiness faded a little.
She opened her eyes but didn't move, still resting against his chest.
"Of course," she said, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "I hated you so much then, Vitale. I thought you'd betrayed me, humiliated me, turned everything between us into a joke."
"Of course, I had to leave. And let me tell you, if you ever betray our relationship in the future, whether on purpose or not, no matter the reason, I'll leave again. I won't stay to endure a second heartbreak."
Vitale's arm tightened for a moment, then relaxed.
He chuckled softly, but there was no mockery in the sound.
"Don't worry," he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against the top of her head. "That day will never come."
Isabella propped herself up, her elbow resting on his chest as she looked down at him.
"Are you sure?" she asked, her blue eyes searching his with seriousness. "Vitale, promises are easy to make, but in your world, temptation, pressure, and schemes are everywhere. Are you really sure you'll never betray me? Never choose to hurt me for family interests, for business, for power?"
Vitale looked at Isabella, his blue eyes like two deep pools up close, clear yet unfathomable.
There was no trace of joking in his expression, only a near-solemn seriousness.
"Absolutely sure. Isabella, I have money, power, status—I have everything most people dream of. But until you came along, challenging me with your wit and courage, until that moment, I didn't know what I truly wanted."
Vitale raised a hand, his fingers gently brushing over Isabella's cheek. "You're not my weakness, Isabella. You're my armor. Because of you, I have something to protect, a reason not to fall into darkness. Betraying you would be betraying myself. And while I may not be a good man, I never betray myself."
Isabella looked at him, at this complex, dangerous man, at the light in his eyes as he spoke those words.
She knew this wasn't a promise made lightly. Vitale never made promises easily, but once he did, he'd uphold them with his life.
Her heart filled with a warm yet heavy emotion.
"I believe you," Isabella said softly, then lay back down on his chest and closed her eyes.
This time, sleep quickly overtook her.
When the plane began its descent, the slight feeling of weightlessness woke Isabella.
She opened her eyes and found herself still in Vitale's arms, and he was asleep too.
His breathing was steady, his red hair slightly messy, his arm still wrapped around her.
She shifted gently, not wanting to wake him, but Vitale's eyes opened instantly.
Those blue eyes were a bit hazy at first, but they quickly sharpened.
"We're almost there," Isabella said softly, pointing out the window.
The clouds were parting, revealing the familiar city outline of Thalassia below, along with the gray-blue of Lake Michigan in winter.
Vitale nodded, sitting up and stretching his body.
His movements were smooth and powerful, like a lion waking up.
After getting off the plane, Isabella noticed Marina stepping down from another aircraft.
On her left cheek, there was a clear red mark from a slap, already starting to swell slightly.
Isabella's heart tightened.
She whispered to Vitale, "Who hit Marina? That mark on her face looks like a man's doing. And it wasn't a light hit."
Vitale followed her gaze, his expression unchanged, but Isabella could sense a slight tension in his body.
"I'm dying of curiosity," Isabella continued, keeping her voice low. "But I don't dare ask her directly. Do you know who did it?"
Vitale turned back to look at Isabella, a slow, mischievous smile curling on his lips.
He didn't answer right away.