Chapter 48
Isabella returned to her room, leaning against the door as she slowly slid down to the floor.
The lingering thrill in her body hadn't fully faded, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper sense of emptiness.
Her gaze landed on the laundry basket in the corner.
The black underwear Vitale had deliberately left there felt like a silent taunt.
Almost without thinking, Isabella reached out and picked it up. The cotton fabric still carried the faint scent of cigar and ocean breeze.
When her fingertips brushed against her clit, she couldn't hold back a muffled moan. Her mind was flooded with memories of Vitale pinning her against the door, kissing her fiercely.
"Damn it." Isabella gasped in the aftermath of her climax, realizing that even this couldn't fill the longing inside her.
She cursed under her breath at Vitale, the man who made her lose control like this.
Vitale returned to his room downstairs.
His room was right below Isabella's. Opening the window, he heard her faint gasps from above.
The sound teased his nerves like a feather brushing against his heart.
A slight smirk curled on Vitale's lips as he leaned against the headboard. He unbuckled his belt, his hand wrapping around his already hard cock.
Upstairs, Isabella's gasps filtered through the floor, accompanied by the subtle creak of the mattress.
He deliberately matched his movements to the rhythm from above.
As Isabella's moans grew more urgent, he sped up his hand, even letting a few low groans slip from his lips on purpose.
A sudden, startled gasp came from upstairs, followed by a brief silence.
Vitale knew Isabella had heard him.
He pictured her expression in that moment—those blue eyes wide with shock, cheeks flushed, maybe even biting her lip in embarrassment and frustration.
Sure enough, a clear curse rang out from above: "Damn you, Vitale!"
Vitale couldn't help but chuckle softly, though his hand didn't stop.
The sounds from upstairs turned chaotic for a moment, as if she'd knocked something over in a panic.
But the commotion soon settled, replaced by even bolder moans, as if she were challenging him.
Vitale accepted this silent contest.
Separated by the ceiling, they communicated their desires in the most primal way.
When the final moment arrived, Vitale heard a long, drawn-out moan from upstairs, and he reached his peak at the same time.
A moment later, he cleaned up and lay back in bed, satisfied.
Upstairs, there was silence, but he knew Isabella was likely trembling in the afterglow, just like him.
That night, Vitale slept especially well.
In his dreams, he saw Isabella straddling him, her golden hair swaying in the moonlight, her blue eyes glinting with a mix of annoyance and desire.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Isabella buried her face in her pillow, frustrated by Vitale's cunning yet unable to deny that this had been the most unique climax she'd ever experienced.
The next morning, while Sierra was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, Isabella hesitated before speaking. "I think I might need to move to a hotel."
Sierra set down the coffee pot, frowning with concern. "Are you not sleeping well here? No wonder I kept hearing something like mosquitoes buzzing last night."
Isabella's face instantly turned red. "R-Really? I slept okay."
She nervously fiddled with her napkin. "Just not quite used to it, I guess."
Sierra picked up on her odd behavior. "Are you okay? You seem distracted."
Isabella forced herself not to think about those embarrassing memories—how she'd secretly let Vitale in, how they'd fucked on the living room carpet, and how they'd parted on bad terms over a petty argument.
"I just didn't rest well," she said, avoiding Sierra's eyes, "once I'm done with work and back in my own bed, I'll be fine."
Sierra nodded understandingly. "I get it. Like when I stayed at your place, I couldn't sleep all night and ended up cleaning your windows. I still remember the look on your face when you saw those sparkling windows the next morning."
Isabella finally let out a genuine smile. "Oh my God, that morning I almost thought elves had broken into my house."
"Speaking of which," Sierra suddenly lowered her voice, "have you heard about the factory in the suburbs? Rumor has it, it's tied to Lumaria's mafia boss."
Isabella froze mid-motion.
She didn't tell Sierra that the mafia boss in question had been in this very apartment last night, pinning her against the wall and making her legs go weak.
"No," she said, lowering her gaze, "I don't know anything about it."
Sierra petted the small dog by her feet. "That's good to hear. I'm taking Sunny for a walk in the park today."
She flashed a rare smile. "By the way, I've felt so much better since you got here. I slept really well last night."
"Have fun." Isabella said, hugging Sierra, though guilt weighed heavily on her heart.
Sierra's clear, innocent eyes seemed to silently judge her for lying.
That day, Isabella deliberately chose a pair of well-tailored suit pants, not expecting them to highlight the curve of her ass even more.
Walking down the street, she could feel the stares from passersby.
As she passed the apartment downstairs, her heartbeat quickened without her control.
That was the room Vitale had been in during their video call last night.
He hadn't even sent a single text since then. He must really be mad.
Isabella checked her phone countless times on the way, but the screen remained dark.
When Laura picked her up in the car, she couldn't help but tease, "That Land Rover behind us has been following for three blocks. Is your charm just too irresistible?"
Isabella glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Henley's car, sighing helplessly. "It's the boss's arrangement. I can't say no."
When they arrived at the factory, Isabella dove straight into work.
The issues in the accounts were worse than she'd expected. As she frowned in thought, a cup of coffee was gently placed beside her.
"Thanks." She said, looking up in surprise.
Henley stood by the desk, seeming to hesitate.
"What is it?" Isabella set down the files. "You've looked like you wanted to say something all morning."
Henley glanced around to make sure no one was listening before whispering, "Costa tried to run last night. We caught him at the border. He said some things about Jackson."
Isabella's heart sank. "Jackson?"
"The guy who harassed you before," Henley said, his eyes full of concern, "Costa said Jackson knows you're here."
The office air conditioning suddenly felt too cold.
Isabella gripped her coffee cup tightly, her knuckles turning white.
Just then, her phone buzzed. A new message popped up on the screen:
"8 PM tonight, downstairs apartment. We need to talk about something important."
The message was short and cold, but Isabella could sense the suppressed anger behind the words.
She looked up at Henley, suddenly realizing this game was far more dangerous than she'd thought.
"Thanks for telling me. I hope you can forget about this." She said softly. "Thank you."
Henley nodded and left, while Isabella turned her attention back to the ledgers.
Now she finally understood why Vitale insisted on dragging her into these matters. It might not just be personal.
In this tangled web of interests, she had already become an indispensable piece.
The sunlight outside was bright, but Isabella felt a chill run through her.
Tonight's meeting probably wouldn't end with sex like last night.