Chapter 88
The moment Vitale grabbed Ali's wrist, time seemed to freeze.
Everyone's eyes were locked on that hand with its distinct knuckles.
Ali was stunned.
A few seconds later, the pain finally traveled from his wrist to his brain. His expression shifted from surprise to confusion, and then to suppressed anger.
"What's going on?" Ali tried to sound casual, but there was a hint of tension in his voice. "Mr. Luca, what do you mean by grabbing my hand? We're just catching up."
"You'd better not get too touchy with me," Isabella spoke up before Vitale could.
She took a step forward, standing beside Vitale, her shoulder brushing against his arm. Her voice was clear and calm. "Because my boss doesn't like seeing anyone mess with his people."
She paused, noticing the shock flicker in Ali's eyes, then continued, "Yes, you heard that right. My boss is Vitale."
Vitale let go of Ali's wrist, and Isabella saw the clear red marks left behind by his fingers.
Ali rubbed his wrist, his gaze darting quickly between Isabella and Vitale.
His expression changed from confusion to disbelief, and then to something almost comically shocked.
"God," he muttered, his amber eyes widening. "The most feared person in the mafia is your boss? Vitale is your boss?"
"Isabella, you've got to be kidding me. This can't be true. Everyone says Vitale's assistant is some tough guy named Amboni or something, someone who can snap a neck with one hand. How could it be you? With your tiny frame?"
The words "tiny frame" made Vitale's eyes narrow dangerously.
"We should head up," Isabella said softly, sensing the dark edge in Vitale's mood. "The party is about to start."
She tried to lead him toward the elevator, but Ali's voice rang out again.
"Isabella."
Isabella stopped but didn't turn around.
Ali stepped in front of them, this time keeping his distance, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
"About what happened before, I've always wanted to explain. That night, I didn't mean it. I was drunk, and I made a stupid bet with my friends. I just wanted to scare you, but things got out of hand."
"I hope you'll give me a chance to explain, just once. I've felt guilty about it all these years."
Isabella's heart thudded hard.
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Vitale cut in, "No."
Isabella and Ali both turned to look at him.
Vitale pulled Isabella closer, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "You're not meeting alone. I'm the boss, and I decide."
Ali frowned, clearly confused by Vitale's reaction.
He couldn't understand why a boss would care so much about an employee's personal matters, or where the intense anger burning in Vitale's eyes was coming from.
But he shrugged, trying to keep things light. "Alright. Anyway, we'll have plenty of chances to talk. The business negotiations will take at least a week. We can chat then."
Isabella looked at Ali, at the man who had once haunted her nightmares, now standing there with a sincere apology and a desire to make amends on his face.
The wave of fear from earlier had faded quite a bit.
A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'd be happy to hear your explanation, Professor Paul."
Vitale looked down at Isabella, his blue eyes flashing with a mix of disbelief, anger, and hurt.
Ali's eyes widened, testing the waters. "The rumor about Vitale's weakness—could it be you? The woman he made an exception for, the one they say he'd fight his whole family for?"
Isabella's face instantly turned red. "No..."
"Shut up," Vitale interrupted her, not giving Ali another chance to speak.
"You're not taking her away from me alone. If there's an explanation, I'll be there. Got it?"
Before Ali could respond, Isabella spoke up, "No."
The air froze again.
Vitale slowly turned his head, staring at Isabella. "What did you say?"
"I said, no," Isabella forced herself to meet his gaze, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "If Ali wants to explain, that's between him and me. It's my past, my scar. You don't need to be there."
Vitale's tone darkened. "You're rejecting me for another man?"
"Think about what happened to Chris, Isabella."
A chill crept up Isabella's spine.
"It's not the same. This is a wound from my past. I need to face it and heal it on my own."
Ali stepped forward, trying to ease the tension. "Vitale, don't push her. There's definitely a misunderstanding between us, but it's our own business. You getting involved won't help; it might even make her push back more."
Vitale turned to Ali, his expression icy. "Is that so, Isabella?"
Isabella opened her mouth to speak, but Ali nodded first. "Yes, Isabella and I have a lot of memories. Some things need to be sorted out by the people involved."
He reached out, as if to pat Vitale's shoulder in a friendly gesture, but stopped at the last moment.
Vitale's warning glare made him pull his hand back.
Vitale stared at Ali for a long time, then suddenly smiled.
"I think I get it. But I still don't want you taking Isabella away. Not tonight, at least."
He paused, as if making a decision.
"But I can talk to you tonight first."
"How about I drive your sports car? I saw that red Ferrari parked outside."
Isabella's heart clenched. "Vitale, no—"
"Of course!" Ali answered quickly, a smile spreading across his face. "Though that car's a bit tricky to handle."
"I've handled trickier things," Vitale said, his gaze pointedly sweeping over Isabella. "We'll take a quick drive, have a chat, then head to the party."
Isabella grabbed his arm. "Vitale, don't go. Let's go to the party together. Henley can drive—"
"Be good," Vitale said, his eyes devoid of warmth. "You go with Marina and Judy in Henley's car. Change into your outfit and be there on time. I'll be there soon."
Then he turned away from her, gesturing to Henley. "Take care of them."
With that, he walked toward the hotel entrance, his steps calm, but Isabella could sense the storm brewing beneath that calm.
Ali's red Ferrari was parked right outside the hotel, looking like a crouching beast.
Vitale opened the driver's door, got in, and adjusted the seat and rearview mirror.
Ali slid into the passenger seat, barely fastening his seatbelt before Vitale slammed his foot on the gas.
The engine roared like a wild animal, tires screeching against the ground as the car shot forward like an arrow, speeding down the winding mountain road.
Ali was thrown back against the seat by the force, letting out a startled yell. "Slow down! This road has a lot of sharp turns—"
"Shut up," Vitale said, his voice calm, but the veins on the back of his hand bulged as he gripped the steering wheel.
After about ten minutes, Vitale finally eased off the gas a little. "Tell me about your past with Isabella. All of it."
Ali swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing. "There's not much to it. She was my student. One time, I was drinking with some professor friends, and we made a bet. They said Isabella looked too perfect, that she'd probably cry if someone scared her."
"I said she was tougher than that, that she wouldn't. I was drunk, and to prove it, I stopped her and said some things to freak her out."
"But she didn't cry. She fought back hard. I really didn't mean to hurt her. I regretted it right away."
The car suddenly sped up, rushing over a steep incline, almost lifting off the ground before crashing back down.
Ali hit the roof of the car, letting out a pained grunt.
"So you tried to assault her," Vitale's voice was eerily calm. "Because of a stupid bet, you almost ruined a girl's life."
"I didn't! I just wanted to scare Isabella!" Ali protested, though his voice lacked confidence. "And I tried to apologize later, but she dropped my class, avoided me, and then she graduated. I never saw her again until today."
Vitale didn't say a word.
A few minutes later, they entered the nearest small town.
Vitale suddenly slammed on the brakes, stopping the car in front of a building that looked like a warehouse.
Ali looked out the window, confused. "Aren't we going to the party? Blake's waiting for us. Where are we?"
Vitale turned off the engine, pulled out the key, and got out of the car.
He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and motioned for Ali to get out.
"I'm feeling a bit restless," Vitale said, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile that held no humor. "How about a few rounds, Ali?"
Ali's eyes widened as he stared at Vitale.
Standing under the streetlight, Vitale was nearly six feet three, with broad shoulders and muscles clearly visible under his shirt.
Even in a suit, it was obvious his body was trained to perfection, brimming with raw power.
Then Ali looked at himself.
He kept in decent shape, hitting the gym three times a week, but more for looks than for fighting.
At six feet tall with an average build, he felt like a gazelle standing in front of a lion.
"Fight you?" Ali's voice came out dry. "I think you could probably knock me down with one finger."
"And look at me, with my small frame, I really can't. I can't get hurt tonight. Blake's waiting for me."