27

27


Isabella's POV

When I awakened, Aaron’s betrayal lay heavy on my chest like a stone. The papers I’d photographed from his safe remained on my phone, evidence of my betrayal preserved in pixels. I would close my eyes and I would see myself crouched in his study, hands trembling as I opened his safe and betrayed his trust.

So why did I feel like I was the one who had sold someone out who was innocent?

A gentle knock at my door brought me out of my downward death spiral.

"Isabella? Are you awake?" Aaron's voice, warm and concerned.

"Yes, come in."

He came in with a breakfast tray, the way he did that first morning when we got back from the villa. To see him being thoughtful and considerate after I had done to him wanted me to make me weep.

“You look tired from last night,” he added as he placed the tray on my vanity. “I figured you would like to sleep in.”

"That's very thoughtful of you."

"How are you this morning?"

Like a traitor. As though you are someone who doesn’t deserve such kindness. Like, I’ve committed the worst error of my existence.

"Fine," I said instead. "Just a little tired still."

Aaron perched on the end of my bed, critiquing my face with those knowing eyes of his that were always looking far too much.

"Isabella, is everything alright? You've seemed... distant since yesterday."

“I’m just thinking about our weekend. It was a big step for us."

“It is,” he nodded, his face softening. "I hope it was a good step."

"It was."

The lie was a slick one, but it soured on my tongue.

“I’m going to be a little busy today,” Aaron said, “but I was wondering if we could have dinner this evening. Just the two of us."

"Of course."

"Good." He bent down and kissed my forehead, a gesture so tender and affectionate it made me feel guilty in waves. "I'll see you this evening."

After he left, I buried my face in my pillow and attempted not to dwell on how categorically wrong it all felt. But I could not dismiss the text from Victor waiting on my phone: “Did you get what we need?”

I texted back: "Yes. We need to meet."

"One hour. Usual place."

I made myself put on real clothes and drove down to the coffee shop where Victor was already waiting, seeming more alive to me than he had in months.

“You look like death,” he said when I sat down opposite him.

"Thanks. That sounds like just the thing every woman wants to hear, squared.”

"I mean you look guilty. Like you've been crying."

"I haven't been crying."

"Isabella, what you did was brave. That’s something you should be content about.”

Proud. The word was like a slap in the face.

"Do you have them?" Victor asked, leaning forward eagerly.

I took my phone out of my pocket and showed him the pictures I had snapped of Aaron’s papers. Victor’s eyes twinkled, looking at all of them.

"This is perfect," he breathed. “Perfect, this is exactly what I need.

“What, exactly, do those documents actually prove, Victor?”

"They prove Aaron's been cutting under-the-table deals with your American mobster relatives behind our father's back. Check it out — communication records, financial transfers, territorial pacts. He’s been trading Italian operations in order to curry favor with foreign actors.”

I glanced at the documents once more, now straining to parse what I was observing. “How do you know that’s what these mean?”

“I know how these things go, Isabella. These documents reveal a pattern of betrayal months in the making. Aaron’s been double dealing, robing Americans while pretending to help Italy.”

"And what happens now?"

"Now I take this evidence to the family chiefs and the syndicate bigwigs up north. There's a meeting tomorrow night that will decide the fate of our little enterprise. I now have these papers to prove that Aaron is no man to be followed.”

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yes. Tomorrow night, everything I’ve been building toward will explode. And it's all thanks to you."

Victor reached across the table and held my hand, yet his hold was no longer my comfort.

"What will happen to Aaron?" I asked quietly.

"That's not your concern."

“If I’m married to him.”

“Isabella, you’re not really married to him. Not in any way that matters. This entire situation has been thrust upon you by your father and Aaron’s ambitions.”

“But, but but if Aaron gets hurt?”

Victor's expression darkened. "What if he does? He made his choices, Isabella. He made a pact with our enemy, to betray his family. Actions have consequences."

"I know, but..."

"But what? Are you having doubts about this?”

The question was standing there between us, heavy with meaning. Was I having second thoughts? Every part of me screamed that I’d made a huge mistake.

"No," I said finally. "No second thoughts."

"Good. Because now there is no turning back. Tomorrow night, everything changes."

"Will I have to be there? At the meeting?"

"Of course. You're Aaron's wife - it'll make the accusations more believable. The public needs to have his own wife supporting the evidence against him."

My stomach dropped. Victor was asking me to commit open treachery to Aaron, to stand by while he ruined my husband’s reputation and very possibly his life.

“I’m not sure I can do that, Victor.”

"You can and you will. Isabella, we can't just sit here and give up now."

“But Aaron’s been nothing but nice to me. Even if he’s into bad stuff, he doesn’t deserve to be ambushed like this.”

"Kind to you?" Victor pulled my hand to him to hold tighter. "Isabella, he's been manipulating you. And making you believe he cares about you, so you won’t suspect what it is he is really up to.”

"But what if he really does have feelings?’

"They're not. Trust me, I know my brother. Aaron loves no one but Aaron.”

“But I want us to be together,” Victor said, but as he said those words, I couldn’t help but see Aaron’s face when he had told me about his mother, when he’d told me his dream to be an architect, when he’d looked at me like I was something delicate and precious enough to want to shield from harm.

“I have to go,” I said, getting to my feet.

"Isabella." Victor rose, advancing toward me. "I love you. Everything I am doing is for us, and for our future together. Don’t let Aaron manipulate you into questioning what’s real.”

"I know you love me."

"Do you? The thing is, I'm sure you must be listening to Aaron's bullshit about wanting to take care of you."

"I'm not confused about anything, Victor. I know where my loyalties are."

But on my way home, I wasn’t so sure about that.

The Romano estate was quieter when I entered the building – less like a prison and more like the comfortable place I was betraying. Giuseppe happily greeted me, wondering how my day was. The house manager smiled and informed me that Aaron had requested my favorite blooms set out in the dining room. The guards even nodded respectfully as I walked by.

These were people who had taken me in as one of their own, who wanted to watch out for and protect me. And tomorrow night I was to help ruin the man for whom they all had respect and to whom they all were obedient!

Aaron had, in fact, planned something special for dinner that evening. The dining room was candle lit, my favorite flowers in an amazing centerpiece, and soft music playing in the background. It was perfect.

“This is beautiful,” I said as he held back my chair.

“I really wanted tonight to be special.”

"What's the occasion?"

“Do I need an excuse to want to have a romantic evening with my wife?”

Wife. The word landed on me differently now, with a heft it hadn’t had earlier.

Clearly Aaron had thought of everything — wine that complemented the meal, conversation that made me laugh, little touches such as refilling my water glass and asking what I preferred. He was an ideal husband and I was the most horrible of wives.

“You’re a bit distant tonight, Isabella,” Aaron said as we finished our desert.

"Sorry. I'm just tired."

"Are you sure that's all? You're not the same since we came back from the villa.”

"Different how?"

"Quieter. More withdrawn. I had felt like our time together brought us closer, but now I wonder if I was misreading the situation.”

His voice sounded so vulnerable, my chest ached. "You didn't misread anything. Our weekend was wonderful."

"Then what's troubling you?"

I gazed across the table toward him — this man I’d been forced to marry, whom I’d been raised to regard as my captor, whom I had spent months plotting to help destroy. His dark eyes held an unexpected openness and concern for my welfare, not at all what I would have anticipated from a man like him.

"Aaron, don't you sometimes wish you had never married me? “I asked.

"Never. Why would you ask that?"

“Because I’ve been a terrible wife. Cold, distant, ungrateful for everything you’ve tried to do for me.”

“Isabella, you did not choose this marriage. I’d never imagined that it would be easy for you to shift.”

“But what if I told you I was beginning to have a change of heart? What if I told you I was thinking maybe we could have a real marriage after all?”

Aaron’s face changed, hope transforming it, and in this light he looked much younger, much more vulnerable.

“That would probably make me the happiest guy in the world.”

“Just because it’s taken me this many years to get here?”

“That is especially because it’s taken you so long. It means your emotions are real, not only something you say because you assume I want to hear it.”

Genuine. It was almost too much that word, in the circumstances of what I had done and what I was about to do.

"Aaron, what would you do if someone attempted to hurt you? What if there were people who wished to do you harm?”

"Why are you asking?"

"I just... I worry about you. About the risks of your position.”

"Are you concerned about someone in particular?”

I wanted to let him in. What I really wanted was to tell him what I’d done and warn him about what was going to happen tomorrow night. I wanted to fling myself on his mercy and beg him to forgive me for betraying him.

Instead, I shook my head. "No one specific. Just the normal hazards of your world.”

"Isabella, I want to tell you something."

"What?"

"No matter what goes on with my business, no matter how much I struggle, you're the most important thing in the world to me. Protect your happiness, protect you – that’s more important to me than anything else.”

I just knew by the honesty in his voice that I was completely wrong to be invalidating his heart. I was sitting here with a man who was genuinely concerned for my welfare, who was discussing how to protect me from…tomorrow night I would be standing next to his brother and watching him go down with evidence that I’d deliberately stolen.

“I really should be getting some sleep,” I said standing quickly.

"Of course. Are you feeling alright?"

"Just tired."

Aaron followed me to my bedroom door, as he had taken to doing. But tonight his goodnight wasn’t just a goodnight, it was delivered with my face cupped in his hands.