Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

POV: ISABELLA

Three Weeks Later

Isabella sat in the corner booth of a quiet café in Tribeca, her untouched cappuccino growing cold in front of her.

She’d been here for twenty minutes.

Waiting.

Her phone buzzed.

I’m outside.

Isabella’s heart jumped.

She smoothed her hair, checked her reflection in the window....she looked tired, thinner than she’d been three weeks ago, dark circles barely concealed by makeup.

The past three weeks had been hell.

Staying in the city. Maintaining her cover. Acting like an innocent woman who’d been falsely accused and vindicated.

All while completely, utterly alone.

Her father called daily, still trying to convince her to come home to Rome.

Antonio had checked in once....a cold, professional call reminding her to stay out of sight, to avoid Dimitri, to not make any more mistakes.

And Enzo....

Enzo hadn’t contacted her once.

Not since the night he’d pulled her out of the gala.

Three weeks of silence.

Three weeks of Isabella staring at his contact, wanting to call, wanting to hear his voice, wanting to thank him properly for what he’d done.

But too afraid to reach out.

Until yesterday, when the loneliness had become unbearable and she’d finally sent him a text.

Can we meet? Please. I need to talk to you.

He’d taken six hours to respond.

Fine. Tribeca café. Tomorrow. 2 PM. Don’t be late.

Cold. Professional. Nothing like the Enzo who used to text her paragraphs, who used to call just to hear her voice, who used to drop everything if she needed him.

The café door opened and Enzo walked in.

Isabella’s breath caught.

He looked different.

Harder. Leaner. Like he’d lost weight, lost sleep.

His eyes scanned the café, found her, and for a split second, just a split second.....Isabella saw pain flash across his face.

Then it was gone, replaced by cold neutrality.

He walked to her booth, slid in across from her without a word.

”Hi,” Isabella said softly.

”Isabella.” His voice was flat. Professional. Like she was a business associate, not someone he’d killed for.

”Thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.”

”You said you needed to talk. So talk.”

There was no warmth. No familiarity. Nothing.

Isabella felt tears prick her eyes but forced them back.

”I wanted to thank you. For what you did. For getting me out. For...for everything. I know what it cost you. I know what you risked. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Enzo.”

”Are you?” He leaned back, his eyes cold. ”Are you really sorry, Isabella? Or are you just sorry you got caught?”

”That’s not fair....”

”Isn’t it?” He tilted his head, studying her. ”You drugged the wrong person. Nearly killed her. Would have destroyed Dimitri if your plan had worked. And the only reason you’re sorry is because it backfired. Because you had to spend eight hours in a reservoir. Because you nearly died for it.”

”That’s not true! I....”

”If the plan had worked,” Enzo continued, his voice cutting like glass, ”if Eve had never drunk that whiskey, if Dimitri had been the one drugged instead....would you be sorry then? Would you regret it? Or would you be celebrating that you finally got what you wanted?”

Isabella couldn’t answer.

Because he was right.

If the plan had worked, if Dimitri had been drugged and desperate and turned to her for relief....

She would have been ecstatic.

Wouldn’t have cared about the morality. Wouldn’t have cared about the consequences.

Would have seen it as fate. As destiny. As proof that they belonged together.

”That’s what I thought,” Enzo said quietly.

”Why did you agree to meet me if you hate me so much?” Isabella’s voice broke.

”I don’t hate you.” Enzo’s expression didn’t change. ”I just finally understand what my father’s been trying to tell me for years. That you’ll never love me. That you’ll use me when you need me and discard me when you don’t. That I’m nothing more than a convenient tool in your obsession with my brother.”

”That’s not...you’re more than that to me, Enzo. You’re...”

”What? Your friend? Your partner? Your ally?” Enzo leaned forward. ”Then why haven’t you called in three weeks? Why haven’t you checked to see if I was okay after cleaning up your mess? Why am I the one who had to kill a man, corrupt evidence, betray my own brother....while you got to play the victim and walk away clean?”

”I didn’t know how to face you! I didn’t know what to say!”

”How about thank you? How about I’m sorry? How about are you okay?” Enzo’s voice rose slightly, the first crack in his composure.

Tears were streaming down Isabella’s face now.

”I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t....I didn’t think.....”

”No. You didn’t think. You never do. You just act on your feelings, on your obsession, and everyone else has to clean up the mess.” Enzo sat back, his composure returning. ”But I’m done cleaning up your messes, Isabella. I’m done being your safety net. I’m done sacrificing myself for someone who sees me as nothing more than a useful idiot.”

”Please don’t say that. You’re not....you’re important to me. You matter.”

”Do I?” Enzo’s eyes were hard. ”Then prove it. Tell me right now, honestly....if you had to choose between me and Dimitri, who would you pick?”

Isabella’s mouth opened. Closed.

She couldn’t answer.

Couldn’t lie to him.

And her silence was answer enough.

”Exactly.” Enzo stood. ”I hope it was worth it, Isabella. I hope your obsession with my brother was worth losing the one person who would have done anything for you.”

”Enzo, please.....”

”Our partnership continues,” he said coldly. ”The territories, the Volkov backing, the business arrangements....all of it stays in place. My father made it very clear that I’m not to dissolve our professional relationship. So we’ll work together when necessary. But that’s it. No more late-night calls. No more personal conversations. No more me dropping everything to save you when your plans blow up in your face.”

”I don’t want just a professional relationship.....”

”I don’t care what you want.” Enzo’s voice was final. ”You made your choice when you drugged that drink. When you proved that you’d sacrifice anyone...even me for a chance with Dimitri.” He pulled out his wallet, dropped cash on the table for his untouched coffee. ”Stay away from me unless it’s business. Stay away from Dimitri and Eve unless you want to end up in that reservoir permanently. And Isabella?”

She looked up at him, tears still flowing.

”If you ever....ever....do something like this again, if you hurt someone else because of your obsession, if you put me in a position where I have to choose between you and my brother....” His eyes were absolutely cold. ”I’ll choose family. And I’ll let Dimitri kill you himself.”