Chapter 9 - Fire and Ice
By the time Matteo returned to Westchester, it was three in the morning. The blizzard had fully set in, trapping the estate in a cocoon of white silence.
When he walked through the front door, Isabella was waiting in the foyer. She didn't hesitate. She ran across the marble floor and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into the crook of his shoulder.
Matteo caught her, holding her tightly against his chest, inhaling the soft scent of jasmine in her hair. The heavy, dark weight he had carried all night finally slid off his shoulders.
"He's safe," Matteo whispered into her hair, his arms locked securely around her waist. "He's on a flight out of JFK right now. He won't be hurt."
Isabella pulled back slightly, looking up at his bruised knuckles and wet hair. She reached up, gently touching his jaw. "You saved him. Even after he betrayed us, you saved him."
"I saved him because he is your blood," Matteo said, his grey eyes searching hers. "And because I promised you I wouldn't be a monster."
Isabella looked at this man—this feared mob boss who had risked his reputation, his standing, and his life to keep a promise to her. She realized with sudden, absolute clarity that her father had been dead wrong. Matteo wasn't using her. He loved her.
"Come upstairs," she murmured softly. "You're freezing."
They went up to the master bedroom. Isabella built up the fire in the hearth until warm orange flames danced across the dark room, casting cozy shadows on the walls.
She helped him out of his wet suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt with slow, deliberate fingers. Matteo stood still, letting her care for him, his eyes never leaving her face.
When he was stripped down to his trousers, Isabella reached for a dry towel, gently drying his wet dark hair and wiping the melted snow from his broad shoulders.
Matteo reached out, taking the towel from her hands and tossing it aside. He pulled her flush against his chest, his large hands resting on the small of her back.
"You changed everything, Isabella," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "When my father forced this marriage, I thought I was taking on a burden. A political headache. But you... you brought life into this dead house."
"I was terrified of you," she admitted, looking up at him, a soft, teasing smile playing on her lips. "I thought you were going to lock me in a room and use me for an heir."
Matteo let out a low, breathless laugh, his thumb softly stroking her hip. "And now?"
Isabella leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips softly to his. "And now... I think I'm ready to give you one."
Matteo’s eyes darkened with a sudden, intense heat. He didn't say a word. He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her to the wide, warm bed.
May you like
That night was different from their first. The hesitation was gone. The caution was replaced by a deep, ferocious passion. They moved together in the firelight, two souls forged in the dark world of violence finally finding peace in each other's arms.
There were no unwritten rules left between them, no lingering doubts. Isabella surrendered to him completely, and Matteo held her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.
