I run cold water over my hands and stare at myself in the mirror for a moment and then I walk back out too.
I take my seat. Pour coffee. She's already in hers, hands folded in her lap, face composed.
Her fingers find mine under the table the moment I sit.
I let her.
I glance up and Salvatore is watching us. Not obviously, not in a way anyone else would notice, but I see it in the way his eyes flick down to the table and back up, in the small shift of his expression that suggests he's seeing something interesting and filing it away for future use.
Fuck. I hope I’m wrong.
I don't let go of her hand though.
The meeting continues for another hour, going through guest lists and seating arrangements and timing and security protocols, and through all of it Isabella's hand stays locked with mine under the table, our grip the only thing keeping me from standing up and putting my fist through Vittorio's face.
When it finally ends, when the planner closes her folder and thanks everyone for their time, Vittorio stands and pulls Isabella's chair out for her and offers his hand and I watch her take it because she has no choice.
They walk out together and I sit at the table and watch them go and feel something in my chest crack clean through.
Matteo stands and claps me on the shoulder. "Let's go home."
I stand and follow him out and get in the car and drive back to the compound with my jaw so tight it aches.
Rafael finds me in the garage an hour later.
I'm under one of the cars doing maintenance that doesn't need doing, using the work to keep my hands busy.
"We need to talk," he says.
I slide out from under the car and look up at him. "About?"
"Don't play stupid. It doesn't suit you." He leans against the workbench and crosses his arms. "Whatever is going on between you and Isabella, it's obvious. To me. Probably to Salvatore based on the way he was watching you both at that meeting. And Matteo is a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them."
I sit up and reach for a rag to wipe the grease off my hands. "Your point?"
"My point is you need to tell him before this gets worse."
"There's nothing to tell."
"That's a lie and we both know it." He tilts his head slightly. "I've known you for fifteen years, Enzo. I know what you look likewhen you're holding something back and I know what you look like when you're about to do something catastrophically stupid. Right now, you look like both."
I toss the rag aside and stand. "I'm handling it."
"Are you? Because from where I'm standing it looks like you're watching the woman you're in love with get engaged to someone else and doing nothing about it."
The words land like a punch.
"I'm not in love with her."Right? This is just sex, right?
Rafael laughs, short and sharp. "Right. Sure. That's why you looked like you wanted to kill Vittorio every time he touched her. That's why you were holding her hand under the table for an hour. That's why you look like you haven't slept in days."
He saw me holding her hand. Shit!
I don't answer because there's nothing to say that isn't an admission.
"Tell Matteo," Rafael says, and his voice goes serious. "Before someone else tells him. Before this situation explodes in a way none of us can control. He deserves to know the truth."
"I know he does."
