“A bistro? What happened to interior design?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, holding his gaze.
“So, just on a whim you looked her up, and now you want to see her?”
“Not exactly.”
My brother hiked a curious brow but didn’t say a word, so I would continue.
“I’ve been having heart palpations and I’m not sleeping well. Something keeps waking me up in the middle of the night. And I’m having nightmares about Isla. She’s all I can think about.”
Roman crossed his leg over his knee, tilting his chin as he considered me. “Maybe it’s just your subconscious messing with you. Don’t go. Just leave her alone.”
“I knew you’d say that.” I reclined in my chair. “I’m not going to invade her life. I just want to see that she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.” Roman put his leg down and leaned forward, setting his elbows on his thighs. “I don’t want you to get hurt. None of us do. Reconsider going. She might have a new man in her life.”
“So?”
“So, I’m worried what you might do. What if she’s married?”
“What do you think I’ll do,brother?” I seethed at the thought of Isla being legally bound to another man. If I ripped his head off his neck, Isla would be a widow. End of problem.
Cazzo! I hated the very idea of another man in her bed… and touching her body.
“Look. You’re doing better. I’m willing to bet Isla is too.”
“Working in a bistro is doing better?” I sneered at him and his stupid logic. This conversation was going nowhere, and I was done stating my case.
“We don’t know why she gave up interior design. Maybe she discovered she loved?—”
“What? Being a waitress? Dishwasher? Earning minimum wage and lousy tips? Never.” I didn’t know why I was still talking to my idiot brother.
“She could be a cook. I mean… a chef.”
“And that’s so much better?” I rocked in my seat and forced myself to calm down. It did me no good to lose my cool with Roman. In fact, it would probably make him believe I’d lost my mind.
“You know how much she loved to prepare fancy meals for you. It’s possible she changed careers. People do it all the time.”
“Enough, Roman.” I stood from my desk, collecting my laptop and sliding it into my Italian leather briefcase. “Call if you need me.” I started toward the door.
“What about Rosa?”
I stopped hard a few feet away from my exit. The jerk knew our sister was the next most important person in my life, after Isla. He also knew she could make me do almost anything.
“If she knew you were going to see Isla, it would only give her hope.”
I turned to face him. “I don’t plan to tell her, and I suggest you don’t either.” And with that, I left.
My flight was in two hours, and I needed to go home to pack a bag. If I ended up staying longer than a couple of days, I would buy whatever I needed in San Francisco.
Roman called out to me, again. But I ignored him and entered the elevator and texted Paulo to bring the car around.
Nothing and no one would keep me from Isla. Roman should have known he couldn’t stop me.
San Francisco. I still couldn’t believe she had moved to the Bay Area. While I was there, I could set up a meeting with Remo and Fabio Ferrari. It’d been a while since we last spoke, and with Isla in their city, it would be good to see the brothers. In case I needed a favor.
I didn’t appreciate Roman bringing up another man. Putting a bullet in someone’s skull or ruining them wasn’t beneath me. I would do whatever necessary to get what I wanted and had the billions to destroy anyone.
