Chapter 23
Aria got the call and went in first, telling Isabella to hurry up.
Isabella had just stepped into the impressive lobby of Tyson Group when her phone vibrated again.
Sonia's name flashing on the screen made her stomach turn.
Damn it, why won't this woman leave her alone?
Isabella took a deep breath and pressed the answer button, immediately hearing a shrill roar through the receiver:
"Isabella, you shameless slut, didn't you swear you'd never come back to this city? I went to your company today specifically to see how pathetic you looked, and they told me you'd been fired ages ago! My God, you're not trying to come back and seduce Colt again, are you?"
"You're interviewing to stay in this city—you still can't get over Colt's body and his skills, can you?"
Isabella didn't respond. She found talking to this person exhausting. Expressionless, she stuffed the phone into her handbag, letting Sonia's voice become muffled background noise.
Sonia was always screeching like a cat in heat—you could smell the stench in her words even through the phone.
Experience told her that if she just ignored it, Sonia would soon hang up out of boredom.
Strangely enough, since spending that night with Vitale, she found herself less easily frightened.
Was this the courage that love brings?
Before Isabella could think further, her attention was caught by a figure at the lobby entrance.
It was a burly man wearing an overly tight blue shirt, his chest muscles nearly bursting through the fabric.
He leaned against the glass door, his eyes dissecting Isabella from head to toe like a scalpel.
Though his physique was impressive, in Isabella's eyes, it was nothing compared to Vitale's perfect proportions—that elegant strength hidden beneath.
"Excuse me," Isabella said politely but coldly.
The man slowly moved aside, but his gaze remained glued to her, that naked scrutiny making her feel like she was being stripped naked in public.
Isabella walked straight past, leaving him with an indifferent back.
She knew her beauty was an advantage, so she didn't want to give these men any chance to fantasize.
The lobby was packed with people waiting for interviews.
Aria texted: "They're calling the interview team members up first! Hurry!"
Isabella looked at the crowded elevator area, bit her lip, and turned toward the emergency stairwell.
Seven floors. She had to get there within ten minutes.
Just as she started climbing the stairs, her phone rang again from inside her handbag.
Isabella answered while catching her breath, trying to keep her voice steady:
"Listen, Sonia, I was fired by the company. I came back just to find a new job. I swear to God, I will not contact Colt on my own."
At that moment, she clearly heard footsteps behind her, steady and rhythmic, echoing in the empty stairwell.
She whipped around, but saw only the spiral of empty stairs descending below—no one there.
"Why'd you stop talking?" Sonia pressed from the other end. "Don't tell me you're in some man's bed right now?"
Isabella forced herself to keep climbing. "I told you, I'm not interested in Colt."
"Really? What about that mobster then?" Sonia's voice suddenly turned sickeningly sweet. "Didn't you enjoy his attention?"
"It was just a one-night stand," Isabella answered calmly. "I left my number, but he never called. So there's nothing between us. You can rest easy."
Yes, just a one-night stand. Isabella, stay clear-headed.
Isabella's fingertips unconsciously brushed her collarbone, where Vitale's lips seemed to have left their warmth.
That night when he unbuttoned his shirt, the panther tattoo rippled in the moonlight.
When Vitale leaned over her, he didn't take her impatiently, but traced the curve of her waist with his fingertips, as if appreciating a fragile treasure.
"Breathe, little gambler," he whispered in Isabella's ear, his breath penetrating her ear canal.
What made her tremble most was how he kept his eyes locked on hers.
His blue pupils remained startlingly clear even in the midst of desire, as if confirming Isabella's every reaction.
When he entered her, the sudden pause was something Isabella would never forget.
Sweat dripped from his taut jaw, yet he gently wiped away the tear at the corner of her eye with his thumb.
"Tell me your name," Vitale demanded breathlessly. "Your real name."
It was this stubborn demand that penetrated Isabella's defenses more deeply than any physical intimacy.
In the whirlpool of desire, this man stubbornly wanted to capture her soul, not just possess her body.
"Come on, Sonia," Isabella snapped back to reality and rolled her eyes. "Did you call just to say this?"
"Don't act like you don't care!" Sonia's voice was piercingly shrill. "I've seen Vitale with his shirt off, my God, those pecs were like sculpture, those abs so tempting—what kind of luck did you have? How did you end up with such a perfect specimen of a man?"
Isabella held the phone away from her ear. "Watch your language, Sonia."
"I tried to seduce him, you know?" Sonia's voice suddenly turned dark. "At the engagement party. I wore the most expensive lace lingerie and deliberately dressed as a server to bring him drinks."
"And he just drank it and told me to leave, didn't even give me a second glance!"
Isabella couldn't help but chuckle. "Maybe Vitale doesn't like women who are too forward."
"Bullshit!" Sonia was practically screaming. "When have I ever been rejected by a man? He actually said 'Please respect yourself, Miss'—damn respect yourself! A beauty like me throwing herself at him, is he blind?"
"Maybe he's just picky."
"Picky?" Sonia said viciously. "Then why wasn't he picky with you? Someone as plain as you."
"Maybe because I'm not as desperate as you?" Isabella interrupted coolly. "By the way, does Colt know you're so hung up on other men?"
The sound of something breaking came through the phone.
Isabella hung up with satisfaction, Sonia's furious screaming still seeming to echo in her ears.
She gently touched the bracelet Vitale had given her.
Isabella suddenly felt that Vitale's taste was indeed good—at least better than her ex Chris.
The footsteps behind her sounded again, closer this time.
Isabella felt a chill down her spine and unconsciously quickened her pace.
Sonia called again. Isabella needed the sound for courage, so she answered once more.
Sonia suddenly laughed on the other end. "I've got good news for you—Chris got both his legs broken, he's a cripple now. You must be thrilled, right?"
Isabella stopped dead in her tracks, cold sweat instantly soaking her back. "What? I had no idea about this."
"How would you? Didn't you swear you'd never have anything to do with him again?"
The footsteps stopped at the same moment.
Isabella held her breath and looked back—still no one there.
"Dear Isabella," Sonia's voice carried malicious glee, "you know what? That gambling addict Chris got lucky recently—Vitale actually took him on as an assistant, and then just a week ago, he mysteriously became a cripple."
Isabella gripped the stair railing, feeling her legs go weak.
"What's more interesting," Sonia continued, "I heard that Vitale is frantically searching for a woman named Isabella. Isn't that funny—that's your name, isn't it?"
"I just thought of a fun joke, that's why I'm calling you. Isn't it exciting? My dear sister Isabella."