Ruined Secrets: An Age Gap Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (Perfectly Imperfect Book 4)

Ruined Secrets: Part 2 – Chapter 22



“Turn right here,” Isabella says when we reach the intersection. “It’s there, just next to the big flower shop.”

I follow her directions and park in front of the building with a glass façade. Even from the outside, it’s visible that the restaurant is high-end kind of place. Each car parked in the lot is priced at more than a hundred grand. I can’t see the inside because the glass is mirrored, but I know it has black wood finishings and tall ceilings with fancy iron chandeliers. In the center, there’s a huge round space with an open ceiling where the best tables are set. I know all that without having any recollection of ever visiting the place. I’ve been here. Before.

It’s taken me some time to accept the concept of before. The first few days after the crash, I was sure my memory would come back. Every time I woke up, I expected the recollections to hit me, certain that my loss was temporary. When Isabella and Damian started filling me in on the details of my life, I assumed that some of it would trigger my brain and start an avalanche of memories. It didn’t. Neither did coming home. Facing my daughter was my last chance for something to spark my memories. There was no spark, however. No trigger of any kind. I saw the girl with long black hair running into my arms, and I felt not even an inkling of recognition. The moment I held Rosa in my embrace, I decided I would accept the situation as it was. I stopped dwelling on the possibility of my memory and old life returning someday. In a way, I decided to cut my losses and focus on the now. The before became only a time marker.

“Have I brought you here at some point?” I ask as I help Isabella out of the car. She’s wearing a navy silk dress that’s adorned with lace and flows over her upper body and flares out from the waist. I’ve chosen it for her. I keep picking dresses that have flowy skirts because the idea of another man ogling her ass makes me go ballistic. Her pretty behind is only mine to look at.

“Nope.” She shrugs. “I came here once with Angelo.”

“Angelo Scardoni?”

“Yes. We were kind of engaged.”

I grab her hand and turn her to face me. “What?”

“It was just an agreement that my father set up when I was eighteen. Nothing came out of it, as you already know,” she says and smiles. “But I have to say, you are sexy when you’re jealous.”

“So why did he take you to dinner?”

“Because I wanted to go out with someone, hoping it would cure me of my crush on you, Luca.” She raises her free hand and takes my chin between her fingers. “A hint for you. It didn’t. Nothing and no one managed to make me even slightly interested in anyone other than you.”

“He’s ten years younger than me,” I say through my teeth.

“But he isn’t you. I’ve always wanted you.” She squeezes my chin. “You. No one else.”

I stare at her, then grab her around the waist and bring her flush with my chest. Then, I slam my mouth to hers.

Isabella

I know we’re fucked the moment we step inside the restaurant and my eyes find the table at the center where Lorenzo is sitting. He’s not alone. Sitting next to him is a man in his midthirties, with sandy blond hair and glasses. He stands up when he sees us approaching, a wide smile on his face. Davide Barbini. Lorenzo’s nephew. And one of Luca’s friends from school.

My heart explodes into an insane tempo while my brain works in overdrive as I try, and fail, to come up with a way to get us out of this shitstorm. Damian and I never briefed Luca on his childhood friends because none of them had anything to do with Cosa Nostra. None, except Davide Barbini, who moved to Italy two years ago and should have stayed there, damn it!

There’s no time to warn Luca because we’ve nearly reached their table. They’d notice if I tried to say something to him. And we can’t just turn around and leave. Fuck! Think!

A fifteen-step distance divides us from our demise, and I have nothing. There’s no way Luca can pull off a whole meal without slipping. Ten steps. There will be high school jokes and mentions of other friends from that time. We’re doomed.

Six steps. The sound of high-pitched laughter reaches me from our right. My head snaps to the side, my eyes finding a blonde woman sitting at the table in the corner, laughing at something one of her friends said. Simona. I never would have thought that seeing Luca’s ex would make me so happy. I could kiss that bitch right now. Two steps. Lorenzo rises from his chair. It’s now or never.

I pull my hand out of Luca’s, turn toward him abruptly, and start yelling into his face. “How could you!”

Luca

I stare at Isabella, stunned. What the fuck?

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” she continues. “Asking me to accompany you, when you knew she would be here!”

Everyone at the restaurant, including Lorenzo and the blond man with him, have gone deadly quiet. I have no idea who the guy is.

“Isabella, calm down,” I say, reaching for her hand. I don’t know what’s riled her up so much to make a scene with at least sixty people watching.

“Calm down?” she shouts, pointing with her finger to her left. “I know you’ve been cheating on me with your ex, but to insist we come to the same restaurant where you knew she’d be?”

“What?” I look to the table she’s pointing at and see Simona sitting there, looking as shocked as everyone else.

“I let the incident with the maid go,” Isabella keeps shouting, waving her hands through the air. “But this . . . this is too much! I’m not staying here a second more.”

An incident with a maid? What the fuck is she talking about? We both know it’s utter nonsense. Something’s going on here. From what I know about Isabella—and I think I know her very well by now—she’d never make a fool of herself in front of an audience. Not without a reason.

“Isabella,” I say and try to place my arm around her, but she moves away a step.

“Fuck you, Luca,” she sneers at me and storms toward the exit.

I watch her leave, then turn toward Lorenzo and the blond guy. They too are staring at the door Isabella just went through.

“Looks like you have a problem, Luca.” The blond guy laughs and looks directly at me just as a jolt of pain pierces my brain. I don’t worry about the fact that he knows who I am. Instead, I turn my back to them and head for the exit.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Lorenzo,” I call over my shoulder and leave the restaurant, stalking after my exhibitionist wife.

I find Isabella standing next to our car, leaning on the door with her eyes closed. Another pang hits me as I walk toward her. When I reach her, I place my hands on either side of her, caging her in against the car.

“You made a fool out of yourself there, tesoro.” I bend until our faces are at the same level.

“I know,” she says, keeping her eyes closed. “And with Simona there to witness it, I’m sure the whole Cosa Nostra will know what happened within an hour.”

“It was because of that guy who was with Lorenzo, wasn’t it?”

“Davide Barbini.” She nods. “You two went to school together. If we’d have stayed, it would’ve been a disaster. We needed an out.”

“So, you made a fool of yourself because of me?” I lift my hand and place it at the back of her neck.

Isabella’s eyes open and she looks at me, holding my gaze. “There are not many things that I wouldn’t do for you, Luca. You should know that already.”

I watch her for a few moments, etching her defiant eyes and stubborn chin on my very being it seems, then I crash my mouth against her lips in a soul-shuttering kiss.


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