Chapter 93
Vitale's figure disappeared behind the door leading to the VIP room.
Isabella, feeling uneasy, followed after him. Just as her hand touched the doorknob, a figure blocked her way.
Henley.
He didn't say a word, just shook his head slightly, a hint of apology in his eyes.
This was the first time.
The first time, Vitale had someone stop her.
Isabella felt a sharp sting, a mix of hurt and confusion.
She opened her mouth to say something, but Henley's look made her swallow her words.
She stepped back, her fingers slipping off the doorknob.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice a bit hoarse. "I won't go in."
Henley gave a small nod but stayed put, standing there like a stone statue guarding the door.
Isabella turned around and walked back to the main area of the banquet hall.
The atmosphere inside had changed. The long tables were pushed against the walls, and a huge screen in the center was showing a soccer match, clearly a game of some important Eldoria team.
The men crowded in front of the screen, waving their arms, shouting loudly, beer and whiskey sloshing in their glasses.
The women stood in small groups on the sidelines—some pretending to be interested in the game, others whispering to each other, and a few stepping out to the terrace to smoke.
Isabella didn't get soccer.
All she knew about the sport was that there was a goal, a ball, and a bunch of people running after it.
The complicated rules, formations, and player names were like a foreign language to her.
Isabella felt a piercing sense of loneliness.
She pulled out her phone and texted Vitale: [Where are you? What's going on?]
No reply.
Isabella waited two minutes, then called him directly.
The phone rang five times in her ear before going to voicemail.
Isabella stared at the screen, feeling her heart sink.
What on earth was Vitale doing?
Was he really mad? Because of her conversation with Ali?
Then why did he invite her to Eldoria?
Why did he hold her on the plane when she was scared of heights?
Why did he prepare a dress for her with the same pattern as his handkerchief?
"Isabella."
Marina walked over, holding a glass of champagne, her dark brown eyes gleaming with malicious delight.
"Looks like Vitale doesn't want you anymore?"
"Well, men are like that, always changing their minds. Especially someone like Vitale—he has too many options, too many women ready to sleep with him without him even asking."
Isabella snapped her head around, her blue eyes burning with icy anger.
"Get lost, Marina."
"If you've got nothing better to do, go sleep around with different guys as Judy does."
"Really?" Marina's smile widened. "Maybe I should try my luck with Vitale. He's probably great at that kind of game, isn't he? After all, he's such a control freak."
Isabella wanted to rip Marina's face off, make her shut up, make her disappear forever.
But reason held her back.
Isabella took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.
"Let's make a bet."
"If I win, you stay away from Vitale for good."
"If I lose, you can go for it. I'll only see Vitale as my real boss from then on and won't meddle in his personal life, including who he sleeps with."
Marina raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the proposal. "Deal."
Isabella nodded, then turned to face the big screen.
The commentator was speaking rapidly in passionate Eldoria language, and the crowd cheered or groaned with every attack and defense.
A few minutes later, Isabella felt a wave of despair.
How could she possibly win? She didn't even know which team to root for.
Just then, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind.
Isabella's body tensed instantly, her instinct to struggle kicking in.
But the next second, a familiar, dangerous scent that belonged only to him filled her senses.
It was Vitale.
He rested his chin on Isabella's shoulder, his lips close to her ear, his voice so low only she could hear.
"Relax, it's me."
Isabella's body softened, leaning into him.
"The guy on the left, number 10 in the red and black stripes," Vitale continued, "he's fast, but he's off his game today. He's already missed two chances. See the number 7 next to him? He's the midfield core, but he's got an old ankle injury and isn't running at full speed."
"So..." Isabella whispered, "which side should I bet on?"
Vitale spoke, his lips almost brushing her earlobe. "Bet that number 10 will score in the second half."
Isabella nodded, pulled out her phone, and quickly placed a bet on the gambling app.
The moment she finished, on the screen, the ball was passed to the number 10 striker. He took a shot.
The ball rocketed toward the top right corner of the goal and smashed into the net.
The score on the screen changed from 0:0 to 1:0.
The entire banquet hall erupted.
The men jumped up, hugging each other, beer spilling everywhere.
The women screamed and clapped along.
Isabella stared at the screen in shock, then spun around, throwing her arms around Vitale's neck.
"He scored! He really scored! Just like you said!"
Vitale laughed, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around before kissing her passionately.
No one noticed the heated kiss in this corner, except for one person.
Marina.
She stood a few feet away, her face filled with anger.
Vitale ended the kiss, but his forehead stayed pressed against Isabella's. Both of them were breathless, their eyes locked on each other.
"I wasn't ignoring you."
"There was an urgent matter in the VIP room just now. Blake got word that the police are looking into a shipment of his from last month. He needed my help to smooth things over."
"I didn't want you dragged into it, so I had Henley stop you."
Vitale's fingers brushed across Isabella's cheek, his blue eyes filled with genuine apology.
"I'm glad, Isabella. I'm glad you joined this bet for me."
Isabella's heart felt like it was wrapped in warm honey.
At that moment, Marina walked over and stopped in front of them.
"You're cheating," she accused, her voice trembling with anger. "Vitale, you helped her place the bet. That's not fair."
Vitale turned, stepping in front of Isabella protectively, his expression shifting from tender to icy in an instant.
"Marina, you know I'm not interested in you. Never have been."
"If you keep causing trouble, I can arrange a plane to send you back to Lumaria right now."
"Your father and Simon don't have time to deal with you anyway—they're still on the run."
Marina's face went pale instantly.
She stared at Vitale, her lips trembling as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.
Isabella stepped out from behind Vitale, facing Marina.
"Marina, you've brought us together. Thank you."
Marina practically ran out of the banquet hall.
Isabella watched her leave, letting out a soft sigh.
"In the courtyard, the way you looked at me and then just walked away..."
Vitale cut her off, resting his chin on top of her head. "I just didn't want you meeting him, but now I see I was wrong. I should trust that you can handle it."
"Besides, it looks like you missed me. Back there in the crowd, you looked like a little abandoned kitten."
Isabella lifted her head defiantly, smirking. "Not at all. I just thought some other guy might come flirt with me. I mean, I look pretty good tonight. But then you came back and ruined my chance for a romantic encounter with someone else."
Vitale knew Isabella was teasing him on purpose.
His blue eyes darkened, and one hand slid down to her waist, pressing lightly on her most sensitive spot through her dress.
"If you want to fuck, I can satisfy you right now. The perfect way to celebrate our big win."
"Right in the VIP room, or back at the hotel, or even here, if you're bold enough."
Isabella felt a rush of heat surge through her body, but she forced herself to stay calm.
She gently pushed Vitale's hand away, a challenging smile on her lips.
"No, I'm busy. I'm going to meet Ali. There's a misunderstanding, and I want to hear the explanation myself."
"After all, you said you trust me to handle it."
Vitale's gaze dropped to Isabella's chest.
Her neckline had shifted slightly from their earlier embrace, revealing a hint of her curves.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.
"I happen to have a few meetings to wrap up as well."
"I hope you don't take too long. I need you to take notes. You're my secretary, remember?"
"Of course I remember," Isabella said, adjusting her dress and hair. "I don't want to take long either. You know I'm into good looks, and Ali doesn't quite cut it. At least not like you do."
Vitale's eyes widened, then he laughed.
"I thought I'd already worn you out just now, but it seems not enough. Next time, we'll try something different, like..."
He paused, deliberately teasing her curiosity.
Isabella's interest was piqued, her cheeks flushing. "Like what?"
They'd already tried so many positions for sex.
In bed, in the office, on the deck of a yacht, even in the bathroom of Vitale's office right before an emergency meeting.
Each time was deep and intense, his cock filling her pussy completely, leaving her barely able to walk the next day.
Those memories lingered in her mind like secret treasures, replayed over and over on lonely nights.
Vitale smiled, his fingers lightly tracing her collarbone.
"I won't tell you until you come back."
"It's motivation—motivation for you to finish with Ali quickly and come back to me."
Isabella felt a sweet, tingling sensation.
"Alright, then what about our contract? How are we handling this? And Blake's side..."
"Use those smart eyes of yours to look it over. If there's no issue, we'll sign. I don't want to waste too much time here, Isabella."