Chapter 193 ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-THREE

Chapter 193 ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-THREE


•A week later•

Isabelle stood before the mirror, her fingers trembling as Sophia fastened the last clasp of the dress.

“Breathe,” Sophia whispered, stepping back to admire her work. “He’s still the same man you're in love with. And if he doesn't collapse when he sets his eyes on you, bets on him that he's not human.”

Isabelle let out a small laugh. “No one’s gonna collapse and he's human.”

She smoothed her palms down the fabric—a dark cherry silk that looked like it was made just for her curves. The dress  hugged her waist way too perfectly and coupled with the thigh high slit, she looked different—exactly like someone going on a date with a powerful man.

Sophia brushed a loose curl behind Isabelle's ear. “You're glowing,” she murmured.

Isabelle hesitated for a bit. “I hope he notices.”

“Oh, trust me,” Sophia snorted. “Alessandro notices everything about you.”

Sophia walked towards the window when they both heard a screeching sound outside. 

“Oh my goodness, he's here!” Sophia announced, peeking through the window.

“Do I look ready?” Isabelle asked, nervous as hell even though this was a man she was used to seeing. 

“That’s like the sixth time you've asked me that,” Sophia responded, grabbing her by her hand. “You look great. I'm sure he'll be at the door any mo—”

A knock came at the door, startling them both.

“You're gonna tell him today, right?” Sophia asked, smoothening her hair again.

Isabelle bit her lip, “Yes, I would. We've never really talked about it before. I don't know what his reaction to the news would be.”

“Oh, come on, you're worrying way too much. Infact, forget about that and just live in the moment. And yes, don't forget to breathe—you passing out might make him panic.”

Isabelle smacked her arm lightly as Sophia slipped into one of the rooms, leaving her alone.

Another knock.

She inhaled, and took three sure steps, opening the door.

And there he was.

Don Alessandro Moretti looking like he was only used to perfection. She didn't think it was possible for her breath to be stolen away, but it was, because now she was struggling to breathe.

Calm down, Isabelle.

Calm down—she mentally told herself.

His charcoal-black tux fit him like it had been tailored for perfection… fit him exactly like a glove would. His black shirt was crisp—collar opened slightly, exposing his throat, giving her a sneak peek of his inked chest.

The expression on his face halted time for a moment, making it seem like they were the only ones on earth.

Alessandro froze. “Isabelle…” He rasped, his eyes trailing from her hair downwards. “Dio Mio! You look—fuck! You look like something I don't deserve to breathe near.”

Heat flooded her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. “Thank you. You look extremely handsome, Don Moretti,” she complimented, the ‘Don’ slipping out on purpose.

His jaw tightened. “If you call me ‘Don’ one more time tonight, I'll put you over my shoulder and cancel the date,” he threatened.

She swallowed. “Then what should I call you?”

He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Call me like we're strangers. Like tonight is the first time we're meeting each other.”

The butterflies in her stomach flipped. Then she remembered—they had a deal.

Tonight, they would pretend they were meeting for the first time—free of death, loyalty, blood and whatever skeletons in the closet that once threatened to tear them apart.

She blushed, unable to control herself. Playing along, and lifting her chin, she started, “Well then, sir… may I know your name?”

He smirked, but his eyes softened and she could tell there was love in them for her. 

“Alessandro.”

“I'm Isabelle.”

He extended a hand. “Isabelle… would you let me take you somewhere?”

She slipped her hand into his. “Anywhere.”

He led her outside, down the staircase where a black Rolls Royce was situated, but instead of guiding her to the door , he walked her past it.

Her brows furrowed, “We’re not driving?”

“No.”

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “We're flying.”

Her breath hitched when she saw it— his private jet, gleaming just outside the estate.

“Alessandro,” she called out, not able to believe her eyes. “Where—?”

“Anywhere that feels like a first time,” he murmured.

When they got to the jet, the interior was what finally stole her breath away. It wasn't just luxurious. It was rather too intimate. There was a soft golden lighting, a table set for two with white roses and a bottle of wine.

“Is it to you liking, Ms Isabelle?”

“It is. I like it very much.”

The moment they took off, she looked out the window and it felt like the sky belonged only to them. Everything was beautiful at night.

“So,” Alessandro started off, leaning back a bit while his eyes roamed her dress as if worshipping every inch of her body. “Tell me, Isabelle. What do you do when you're not stealing the breath of an unsuspecting man on a plane?”

She laughed genuinely. “Nothing,” she answered, looking down and playing with her dress. I’m trying to figure out this new version life is offering to me. I've spent too long surviving, now I just want to live.”

“I would like to be part of that.”

She slapped him playfully on his cheeks. “You just met me and you're flirting with me already.”

“In that dress, amore mio bellisima, there's no way I wouldn't flirt with you.”

Her eyes met with his, her heart beating rapidly for a good reason this time. Their eyes held each other's far longer than strangers should. 

Then Alessandro leaned in, their lips only a few inches away. He studied her for a moment as if waiting for her permission for a go ahead. She nodded, and that was his cue.

He took her bottom lip in first, tasting it for a few seconds before letting his tongue slip in. His hand went to her waist, holding her possessively while he kissed her gently… without a rush like this was their first time. He arched his head to the side at some point to get a better angle of her lips, kissing her ravenously but keeping it in check just to elaborate the whole ‘first time passionate kissing moment.’

Reluctantly, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling, the desire in his eyes evident, especially with the way he looked at her.

The jet landing brought them back to reality and he led her out, Isabelle realized they landed on a private rooftop. If she thought the jet was intimate, then it was nothing compared to being on the rooftop.

There were petals everywhere, music playing somewhere that seemed distant even though it was from the rooftop,  candle lit paths leading to a glass table directly underneath the stars and opposite it was the most beautiful decoration she has ever seen with neon lights letters spelling the words ‘Please, marry me, again.’

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my… Alessandro… this is…” 

And when she turned to complete her statement, Alessandro was down on one knee with a little box opened before her, and in it was the prettiest diamond ring—rather exquisite, dazzling and exactly what she would have chosen for herself.

“I know the first time we walked down the aisle together, you hated me. You hated me because I forced you into doing something that you found sacred enough to share with the man who you would fall in love with, and that man wasn't me in that moment. I was selfish… so selfish that I took that happiness away from you. So, this time around I decided I wanted things to be different… to be exactly how you want it. I want you to have a choice this time around, and I'm hoping that choice would include me.”

A tear slipped from her eyes, and she didn't bother wiping it off. She let herself live in the moment.

“Please, Marry me, Isabelle… again. Because with you by my side, life feels like a walk in the park.”

“Yes… yes, yes, I’ll marry you again and again.”

“Really?” He asked, looking genuinely scared. 

“Yes, I am,” she answered and he slipped the ring into her hand. He rose up, making an attempt to kiss her, but she placed a hand to his chest, stopping him.

“I need to tell you something.”

Alessandro stiffened, “You changed your mind?”

“No.” She shook her head, “God, no.”

He exhaled, relief washing over him. “Then what is it?” 

“I never got to say it back when you said it for the first time.” She took a deep breath, smiling. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn't say it back then. I love you without the past, despite the past. I love the man who kidnapped me… and the man who's with me right now, pretending we're strangers on a first date.”

For a long moment, Alessandro didn't move. Then he took a step, pulled her in by the waist and kissed her like he had been drowning his entire life and just discovered air recently.

When he finally broke away, his forehead pressed to hers, “I love you. I love you so fucking much I don't know how my chest holds it.”

Tears steamed down her cheeks, and he brushed them away.

“Isabelle,” he whispered. “I’m yours. All of me. Whatever you'll take.”

She closed her eyes. “Then I hope you'll take this too,” she said, guiding his hand to her stomach.

Alessandro froze. Like truly, absolutely froze. His eyes widened—fear, disbelief, hope, joy—every emotion, he felt them all at once.

“Isabelle…” his voice cracked and he held her like she was something fragile.

She nodded, crying again. “I'm pregnant.”

He staggered back, then came forward before dropping to his knees before her. He looked at her like she just hung the moon. “Are you serious?”

She laughed through the tears. “Yes.”

Alessandro pressed his forehead to her stomach. “You’re giving me a family,” he rasped. “After everything I lost… after everything I took… you're giving me the most precious gift of all.”

She cupped his face. “We're giving it to each other.”

He rose, pressing his forehead to hers again. “Say it again,” he whispered. “Please.”

“I'm pregnant.”

“And I'm the happiest man alive.”

❇❇❇❇

They spent the rest of the night on the rooftop with her on his lap, his hand resting protectively on her stomach. Alessandro murmured against her neck, “You were my firecracker when you pointed a gun at me for the first time in my basement.”

She grinned. “You deserved it, even though I missed.”

“Probably,” he admitted. “But, I would do anything to go back in time just to relive that moment. If it means you still end up here.”

“In your arms?”

“In my life.”

She kissed him softly. “Then don't let me go ever again.”

“Never.”