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“Anything else?” Chance asks, gazing around the room and everyone shakes their head. When no one speaks up, Storm picks up the gavel and bangs it against the table, dismissing us. I stand and turn toward the door, eager to get back to where I left Izzy in the family area with Ali, Carly, and Tate. Streak gets to the door first and pulls it open, blocking me as the guys file out of the room and I clench my teeth as the irritation from before worms its way through me. God, I just want to get my hands on my woman and these fuckers are in my way.

Once the room empties out, Storm approaches me and arches a brow. “How is Izzy really doing?”

“Shit,” I mutter, shrugging. “I don’t know. She hasn’t been herself but I think she’s trying, you know?”

He nods. “Ali is worried about her.”

“Is that why she called you out of the room earlier?” Normally, the wives aren’t permitted to participate in church and Ali would never dream of interrupting unless it was something important and few things mean more to her than her best friends. He nods.

“Yeah.” When he glances over at me, I swear to fucking God, I see the lightbulb go off in his eyes and he grins at me.

“What?”

His grin grows. “Come on. I’ve got an idea to solve both of our problems.”

“Here’s the thing,” I say, eyeing him warily. “That weird ass smile on your face makes me want to say no.”

“Shut the fuck up and just do what I tell you. I’ve been married a hell of a lot longer than you have and I know what I’m talking about.”

I hold up my bare left hand. “Not married.”

“Like it fucking matters. I know the look and if you play your cards right, you will be soon enough.”

Well, shit.

Not like I can argue with that.

Izzy is fucking perfect and I am determined to make her mine as soon as possible. She’s going to fight me every single step of the way because she’s Izzy and it would go against her very nature to just be agreeable so I’ll take all the help I can get, even if it means I have to admit to this asshole that I do, in fact, need his assistance.

“Fine. What’s the plan?”

He smiles again as we walk out of the war room. “Sabotage.”

Chapter Twenty

Isabelle

My precious Isabelle,

You may still be too young to understand this but when your time is coming, when death is closing in on you, it’s something you can feel, deep down in your bones. Ever since Papa passed, I’ve felt it and I know my time on this earth is short. Yesterday, it occurred to me that once I’m gone, there will be no one left to tell you the story of Papa and me. I know how much you love hearing it and I couldn’t stand the idea that you’d have to go the rest of your life without it so I wrote it down for you here. It is my dream for you, sweet girl, that you will find a man who loves you, cherishes you, and devotes his life to you the way that Papa did for me. There is no greater joy in the world than reaching the end of your life and looking back with a smile on all the things you accomplished, the family you built, and the legacy you leave behind. You are my legacy, granddaughter, and I couldn’t be prouder of the young lady you are and the woman I know you’ll become. There is a fire in you - one I recognize since I saw it so often in the mirror - and it tells me that you are strong. You won’t be pushed around and you won’t back down from a fight. It’s this knowledge that allows my heart to be free from sorrow as I think about my passing because I know no matter what life throws at you, you will conquer it.

And if I may, allow me to pass on one last little piece of grandmotherly advice before I go - do not let this world steal your light, Isabelle. People are stupid. I’m not going to mince words or try to be kind because as I’ve said, I’m dying and I don’t care anymore. People are stupid and that’s a fact. It’s also true that you are going to experience pain at the hands of these people but don’t let it dim that fire inside you. You get to decide who you want to be and what you want out of this life. Don’t live in fear and remember, even the happiest story has its trials and tribulations. Without heartbreak, there is no love, and without pain, there is no joy.

Love you always,

Lita

Wiping the stray tear from my cheek, I turn to the next page and my heart clenches as my gaze travels over the familiar opening of how Papa and Lita met and fell in love so many years ago. Their story wasn’t easy but they persevered. They fought against all of the odds, both of them refusing to back down until they had the life they wanted and I’ve always admired their love. Even now, I can remember the way Papa looked at her like she was his life, his heart, and the sole reason he drew each and every breath. Setting the letter down on the bedspread, I touch the page and smile. She was right when she wrote me this letter - I would have been heartbroken if I had never gotten to hear this story again and while it’s not quite the same, I swear I can almost hear her voice as I read over her words. It’s like a warm blanket wrapping around me, bathing me in the comfort I’ve desperately needed this past week.

Dark memories flood my mind and I close my eyes, squeezing them tight. I’ve tried so hard to remind myself that everything I lost was just stuff, replaceable, but remembering the way my home looked when I stood in front of it a week ago is painful. Yeah, it’s just stuff but it was my stuff. I’d spent so long making every little detail of that house perfect and it was my refuge, the place I felt the most peace. It’s still hard to believe that it’s just gone. Tears sting my eyes again and I open them, gritting my teeth as I try to force away the ache. I glance up and jerk in surprise. Diego is standing in the doorway to his bedroom, watching me as he leans his broad shoulder against the door frame.

“Hey.”

I force my expression to relax. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Not much,” he answers, a hint of a smile teasing his lips as he watches me. I narrow my eyes as I fold up my grandmother’s letter and set it on the bedside table. He has his hands behind his back and he’s clearly holding something but I can’t see what it is with his big body blocking the way. “You feeling better?”

After all of the guys spilled out of the war room earlier, Diego came and found me in the living room with Ali, Carly, and Ali’s kids. I’ve been in such a funk this past week but hanging out with them made me feel a little better so I was irritated when he insisted that we should head home. Once we got back to his place, he walked inside with me, then said he had errands to run and that I should stay at the house which only pissed me off more. It’s probably why after he left, I decided to just crawl into bed and let myself wallow in the pain I’ve been trying to push away for the past seven days.