SLOANE
Spending a couple of hours going through my things, I sort them into different piles. Stuff for storage and items to take with me. A lot of the belongings I’ve accumulated over the years are household items I won’t need any longer. I’m sure Cristian’s house is fully equipped, and his stuff will be much better quality. Excitement bubbles inside me at the thought I’ll get to live in the home he built after all. I have often wondered what it looks like and whether Cristian and Elio are happy there.
Humming to myself as I rummage through my things, I’m relieved everything seems intact and untouched. I’m skimming through my photo album and sketch pads when the doorbell chimes. I’m not expecting anyone, but it’s possible Cristian arranged a food delivery.
Sounds of arguing tickle my eardrums when I approach the front door, but the voices are muffled, and I can’t hear what’s being said. Using the peephole, I check to see who is outside, instantly scowling when I recognize the woman arguing with John Angelo. Cristian said his new head bodyguard was also his personal guard, but it’s no surprise he made him stay here to watch over me. That’s a totally Cristian thing to do.
The arguing stops the instant I open the door. “What’s going on?” I ask, my gaze bouncing between them.
“You.” Isa seethes, her nostrils flaring, gaze burning with hostility. “So, it’s true. You are back.” If looks could kill, I’d be ten feet under by now.
“Yes, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Oh, it’s my business all right,” she says, shoving past me into the hallway.
“I can make her leave,” John Angelo says.
“No, it’s fine.” I have dealt with much worse than Isotta Da Rosa, and the inquisitive part of my brain wants to know why she’s here.
“You don’t have to talk to her,” John Angelo adds as the annoying woman huffs in outrage behind me.
“I know I don’t, but I’ll humor her. Don’t worry.” I shoo him away when he moves to come inside. “We’re going to attempt a civil conversation, and then Isotta will be on her way.” I’m not concerned. I can handle the jealous bitch.
“I’ll be right outside,” John Angelo cautions. “Shout if you need me.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Isa hisses, stalking forward. “I’m just going to give her a piece of my mind, not riddle her with bullets, so there’s no need to look at me like that.” She slams the door shut in his face as if this is her place.
Thrusting my shoulders back, I stand tall and level her with a sharp look. “Let’s not pretend we like one another. Say what you came to say and then leave.”
“You don’t call the shots,” she snaps, digging something out of her purse. “And I’ll decide who is leaving.” Thrusting a square card in front of my face, she smirks as she says, “If you’ve come back for Cristian, you’re too late.”
Bile crawls up my throat as my gaze skims over the wedding invitation. It’s for her impending wedding to…Cristian. What the fuck? My heart thuds painfully against my chest wall as I stare at the offensive invite.
“Cristian is mine, and you need to fuck off back into whatever hole you crawled out of,” she snarls, putting her face all up in mine.
“I don’t believe you.” I’m hurt and confused, but this has got to be a trick. A last-ditch effort to get rid of me by a woman who has always wanted my man. Young me would probably have fallen for it. But I’m not the same naïve girl anymore. Cristian wouldn’t lie to me, and I’m going nowhere until I talk to him. Pushing her back out of my face, I rip the invite into pieces and throw them at her. “Get out, you malicious bitch, and stay out.”
“You can’t throw me out!” she shrieks. “I won’t let you ruin this for me again.”
Anticipating her move, I thrust my fist out and punch her in the nose before she can touch me. Isa screams, tripping over her feet and falling flat on her ass on the floor. With more calmness than I feel, I open the door and request John Angelo to escort her from the building. Isa is screaming threats and expletives as John Angelo tries to wrangle her out the door. More bodyguards show up, and together they get her into the elevator.
Closing the door, I lean back against it and try to slow my racing heart. My eyes drift to the tattered remnants of the invite on the floor, and uneasiness settles on my chest. Isa is a conniving cunt, but how could she produce a professional wedding invite mere hours after Cristian and I reunited? I can’t even blame Elio for blabbing the secret to his aunt because he’s only a child, and he didn’t mean any harm.
A knock on the door drags me from my troubled thoughts. After checking the peephole, I let John Angelo in. “We put her in a taxi and sent her home. She won’t bother you again. Are you okay?”
“Is something going on with her and Cristian?” I ask, not mincing my words.
“That’s a question for the boss,” he replies, averting his eyes.
“John Angelo.” My voice is stern. “Tell me what you know.”
“Sloane.” He squeezes my hands. “Cristian loves you. He was the happiest I’ve seen him in years earlier, so forget whatever that woman said and wait until Cristian gets back. He’ll explain it.”
“Explain he’s marrying her?” I snap, losing the tenuous hold on my composure as anger rears its head. John Angelo grimaces, and I stagger back. “It’s true?”
“Aw. Fuck.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “Look, I’ve heard rumors, that’s all.”
“What have you heard?” Crossing my arms around my waist, I already know I’m not going to like this.
