Chapter 82 LXXXII.

Chapter 82 LXXXII.
Isabella's POV.

The taxi rolled to a stop in front of the massive Ricci family mansion. I paid the driver and dragged my luggage onto the pavement. As the cab pulled away, I adjusted my oversized sunglasses and stared up at the imposing façade.

After being away for so long, you'd expect returning to feel strange, but looking at that house, I felt like I'd only left yesterday. The home that held my childhood memories remained exactly the same on the outside. Not a single thing had changed.

I took a deep breath and walked up to the porch. I knew my family wasn't home; Izzy had already informed me they were on their business trip. Thank God I had told her to keep my early arrival a secret. If our dads knew, they would've waited for me to get back and dragged me along to Italy.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but I can't stand the pressure of being around them. They have a very specific idea of who I should be as a daughter, and I just don't fit that mold. That's why I moved out on my own years ago. My parents hated the idea, but thanks to Grandpa's intervention, I got to do what I wanted.

I'm very different from my twin sister, Isadora. I crave freedom, and once you've had a taste of it, you never want to be tied down by responsibilities again. I know Dad Rowan hopes I'll take over the company someday, but I can't do it. I'll leave all that to Izzy. She's the smart one, anyway.

Stepping into the mansion, the familiar scent of home washed over me, and I grinned. It was exactly the same inside, too. The living room was still posh and luxurious, every expensive item perfectly in place.

A maid walked into the living room, and when she saw me, her eyes went wide.

"Miss Ricci? What are you doing here? I thought you left with your parents yesterday."

I smirked at the young woman. She looked a bit older than me, maybe in her early thirties. Okay, that was a lot older than me. I had just turned eighteen. She was very pretty, though.

I decided to play along with the confusion. The household staff probably knew that Izzy had a twin, but they'd never met me and certainly didn't expect me to be back today. Pretending to be Isadora for a while sounded amusing.

"Well, I suddenly felt sick thinking about how far I'd be from my friends, so I decided not to go," I lied smoothly. "My dads agreed I could come back and stay here until they return."

She looked confused but nodded. "Alright. I'll just call Mr. Ricci and let him know you've arrived safely."

I quickly shook my head. "No, don't call them. They specifically said not to be disturbed during this trip. It's an extremely important business deal, and they'll be very busy."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Well, I suppose you're right. What about a message, then?"

I shook my head again, amused by her persistence. "Don't worry about it. I'll text them myself later."

She smiled. "Okay, Miss, if you say so." Her eyes flickered down to my luggage, narrowing slightly. "I could've sworn you took a pink suitcase with you yesterday."

I glanced down at my bright red luggage with a slight frown before looking back at the maid with an amused arch of my brow. She was certainly observant.

"Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, honey. You need more sleep."

Her eyes widened at the slight jab. I wanted to savor her confusion, but I didn't have all day to be interrogated by the help.

"Aren't you going to help me take my bags upstairs?"

She snapped out of her daze. "Yes, Miss. I'm so sorry."

She hurried forward, grabbed the handle of my red suitcase, and hauled it up the grand staircase.

I followed behind her, looking around at a house that hadn't changed one bit. Not one detail. My dads hadn't even bothered repainting the awful gray walls. Red would've been so much better.

We reached Izzy's room, and I couldn't help rolling my eyes. It was exactly as I expected—a total Barbie dreamhouse explosion. Everything was in shades of pink, and the bed was covered in a mountain of stuffed animals.

Seriously? Was she still five years old?

"Do you need anything else, Miss Ricci?" the maid asked gently.

I nodded. "Yes. Can you bring me dinner? Fried chicken and a beer would be great."

She blinked so rapidly I feared her eyelashes might fly off.

"Fried chicken and beer? L-like... alcohol?"

I tilted my head, enjoying her obvious discomfort.

"Yes, alcohol. Since my parents aren't here, I think I should live a little, don't you?"

The maid looked extremely hesitant.

"Uh... I really don't think Mr. and Mr. Ricci would approve of that."

I took a step closer to her, lowering my voice.

"You can join me, you know. It might help..."

I trailed a hand down her arm.

"...take the edge off."

She gasped and quickly stepped away from my touch.

"A-as you wish, Miss Ricci. I'll have dinner set and order some beer."

She turned to hurry out, but I called after her.

"You are going to join me, though, right?"

She shook her head violently.

"N-no, thank you."

In a flash, she was out the door, and I couldn't help but laugh.

Why was she so flustered?

I wasted no time making myself at home in Izzy's space. Our tastes couldn't have been more different, even if we shared the same face, but I could adapt.

After taking a long bath, I sat on the bed wrapped in a towel and called Izzy.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, sissy. How's Italy?"

She sighed on the other end.

"Boring, mostly. I've been stuck in my hotel room all day."

I frowned.

"Why? Don't you want to go out and see the city?"

"I don't feel like it. I guess I'm just really missing my friends," she groaned dramatically. "Two weeks is already feeling like a year."

I chuckled as I picked up a framed photo of Izzy and a shorter girl wearing glasses. Izzy had her arm draped around the girl's shoulders, grinning like an idiot, while the girl blushed furiously at the camera.

I scoffed.

"Are you missing all your friends, or just this particular short best friend of yours? What was her name again?"

"Trisha!" Izzy snapped. "How could you possibly forget her name? I talk about her constantly."

I rolled my eyes and set the frame back down.

"For someone as pretty as you, I honestly expected you to have better-looking friends."

"What is that supposed to mean? Trish is beautiful!"

I laughed, knowing she'd defend her anyway. If I didn't know better, I'd swear they were dating. Izzy had more pictures of Trisha in her room than of me, and that was saying something.

"Okay, whatever you say. I just called to let you know I'm back in Cali, and the maids think I'm you."

"You didn't tell them who you actually are, did you?" she asked, sounding exasperated, as though she already knew the answer.

"Where's the fun in that?" I teased.

She sighed.

"I know you love playing games, Isabel, but I didn't tell our dads you're back, so you better keep your end of the bargain and not cause any trouble. Do you understand?!"

I laughed at her bossy tone.

"Sure thing, sissy. I'll see you when you get back."

"Whatever!" she snapped before ending the call.

She's still such a brat. That much is for certain.

I stood up and opened her closet to find something to sleep in, but my eyes immediately fell on the rows of clothes hanging neatly inside.

A smirk spread across my face as an idea formed.

Instead of sitting around here for two weeks waiting for my family to return, I was going to have some fun of my own.

I decided to play a little game—pretending to be my sister and seeing who was smart enough to realize I wasn't her.

Two weeks here alone?

Oh, this was going to be highly entertaining.