Page 65 of Prince of Vice

Her words hang in the air between us. The silence stretches between us, taut and fragile. Isabella's tear-filled eyes search my face, aching with vulnerability.

"Primo," she says softly, "you don't have to live this life."

I take a shaky breath, feeling my family's expectations bearing down on me. "As the firstborn son, there are certain expectations I must fulfill. I never really had a choice."

"Everyone has choices," she insists, her voice steady and determined. "They may be hard to make, but that doesn't mean they aren't options."

I swallow hard, unable to meet her gaze. "Can I hold you?" I ask hesitantly, needing the comfort of her touch.

She nods, relenting, and I gather her into my arms, cherishing the warmth of her body against mine. Her heartbeat is a soothing rhythm against my chest, a melody I could lose myself in.

Her words stick in my mind, even as I try to push them away. I promise myself that I'll give them legitimate thought after the trial – if I end up going to prison, there won't be any more choices for me anyway.

"Isabella," I say, my voice thick with emotion, "I'm sorry."

"Are you serious about switching lawyers?" she asks.

"I just want to protect you," I reply, my heart aching at the thought of losing her.

She sighs, understanding but resolute. "That's not the way, Primo."

"Okay," I concede, knowing that I can't deny her the agency to make her own choices. "We'll keep things as they are.

"Maybe we should get a bit more sleep," I suggest, tenderly wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks. She agrees, and I lift her into my arms, carrying her back to our bed.

As I lay her down and pull the covers over us, I hold her close, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest as she drifts back into sleep. The room is filled with the scent of her perfume, a delicate reminder of her presence.

My thoughts continue to race, consumed by her words and the possibility of a different life – one that I can scarcely imagine, yet yearn for with every fiber of my being. There’s both a promise and a plea inside of me – a hope that, against all odds, we may find a way to bridge the distance between us and forge a future together.

But for now, I savor the sweetness of her embrace, allowing it to anchor me in the present moment, as I surrender to the darkness that beckons me from the edge of consciousness.

* * *

The afternoon sun filters through the curtains, casting dappled patterns on the wall as I watch Isabella sleep.

"Primo?" Her voice is groggy, but still music to my ears. She blinks up at me, her eyes slowly focusing on my face. "What time is it?" she asks, clearly sensing that we overslept.

"Nearly noon," I say, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "I had someone pick up everything you need for the trial from your apartment."

"Really?" She looks surprised, but there's a hint of gratitude in her eyes.

"I won't let you out of my sight for the next 24 hours," I tell her firmly. "Unless there's something left for you to prepare, how about we spend a relaxed day together?"

"Okay," she agrees, the corners of her mouth lifting into a small smile.

As we move through the day, I show her the hidden beauty of my home, the small sanctuaries that have offered solace in darker times. We talk, we laugh, and for a moment, it feels as if the shadows have retreated, leaving only light and warmth behind.

I lead Isabella through the grand archway that opens onto the sprawling estate, her hand in mine. The sun bathes the gardens in a golden glow, casting intricate shadows where roses intertwine with ivy and birds sing their sweet melodies from the branches above.

"Wow," she breathes, entranced by the lush landscape before her. "I guess I never really appreciated how beautiful this place could be."

I guide her down the winding stone path and into a greenhouse, past vegetable boxes overflowing with ripe produce and vibrant flower beds that perfume the air. She stops to examine a cluster of delicate orchids, her fingers tracing their petals as if she's absorbing their essence. "This place seems very large for just one person."

"Ah, well, it used to be the family home and center of all our business," I explain, my gaze drifting over the familiar grounds. "But times change, and people want to move out and do their own thing."

"Your brothers?" she inquires, curiosity sparking in her eyes.

"Teddy comes and goes as he pleases; he's here most often," I say, picturing my youngest brother's bright smile. "Giovanni moved out as soon as he could. Constantino... he's mostly a mystery these days. I've only seen him at the mansion twice in recent months."