Twenty Five

Isabella

The bed dips and his scent teases my nose. He doesn't touch me, nor does he speak.

Another few seconds and I crack. "Dante—"

"Do not speak, Isabella. When I am done speaking you may explain yourself, capisce?"

I press my lips together and wait, feeling like a small child who has disappointed a parent. I don't like it. Why is he so angry? Why is he humiliating me like this?

"I am not going to explain to you the reason why I am keeping you here, Isabella. I know you are old enough to understand the insecurity you are in as Roberto's heir. I think you know the kind of danger you put yourself in when you left the estate and roamed your way on the streets of Palermo in the middle night. Terrible things could have happened to you. If Federico had been strategic, he could have killed you that night. I am not going to explain my intentions to you anymore because I am sure you know them but you just love to disobey me, right?"