Chapter 10: Temptation and Resolve
The club was quieter now, the vibrant energy of the night settling into a dull hum as patrons trickled out. Isla stood behind the bar, wiping down the surfaces with mechanical precision, though her mind was far from the task at hand. The evening's events played over and over in her head, the tension in Dante's voice still ringing in her ears. He was getting closer, and she had to be careful. One wrong move, and everything she and Alex had worked for could be ruined.
She needed to talk to him. She needed to hear his voice, get his perspective.
As if on cue, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, relieved to see her brother's name flashing on the screen. She quickly answered, her voice low. "Alex?"
"Isla, it's late. You good?" His tone was calm but laced with concern, always a reminder of the bond they shared. He was the only one who truly understood what they were doing.
"I'm fine," she said, though she didn't feel it. "Just… thinking. I'm starting to feel like I'm losing control of this situation. Dante's not backing off."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Isla could almost hear him thinking. "Listen to me, Isla. You can't let him pull you in. I know it's hard, but we have a plan. You stick to it. Don't get distracted. We're doing this for Dad, not for some guy's pretty face."
Isla gripped the phone tighter, her knuckles white. Her eyes flickered over to the VIP section, where Dante had been all night. His dark eyes met hers for a brief second, sending a shiver down her spine. He had that effect on her—too much of an effect. She forced herself to look away, focusing back on Alex's voice.
"I'm not getting distracted. But I can't just ignore him either. He's everywhere, Alex. Everywhere I turn, he's there."
"You know what you have to do," Alex reminded her, his voice unwavering. "Stay focused on the endgame. Everything else is just noise."
She exhaled, the weight of his words settling over her. He was right. This was about revenge, about making Antonio DeLuca pay for what he did to their father. Dante was just a tool, a means to an end. She couldn't afford to let herself get pulled into whatever dangerous web he was weaving.
"Yeah," she replied, her voice more firm than before. "I'll keep my head in the game. Thanks, Alex."
"Always," he said with a sigh, the line going quiet for a moment before he added, "Just be careful, okay? Don't get too close."
"I won't. Promise."
As she ended the call, a heavy sense of resolve washed over her. She could do this. She had to do this. She wasn't some naive girl caught up in a romance; she was Bella Caruso, a woman on a mission. Nothing would sway her from it.
She shoved her phone back into her pocket and straightened up, forcing her mind to focus on the task at hand. But as she did, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Dante with Elena Ricci.
Elena. The woman Dante was supposed to marry
Dante stood close to her, his posture relaxed, his arm draped over her shoulders. Elena was laughing at something he said, her lips curving into a bright smile. And then, to Isla's shock, Dante leaned down and kissed Elena.
The kiss was brief but intimate, full of familiarity. It wasn't just a peck; it was possessive, like a claim. And for a moment, Isla felt the breath rush out of her, her chest tightening. The sight of them together, so at ease with each other, stirred something inside of her—something she didn't want to feel.
Jealousy.
She quickly shoved the feeling down, her jaw clenching as she forced her attention back to the bar. She couldn't let this affect her. She was here for revenge, for justice, not for some fleeting attraction to a man who belonged to someone else. Elena had been with Dante far longer than Isla had known him, and no matter how tempting Dante's touch was, he was out of reach.
She wasn't here for him. She was here for Antonio.
Isla took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The jealousy was a weakness, and she couldn't afford that. She had to be strong, focused. Her brother's words echoed in her mind: Don't get distracted.
As the evening wore on, Isla went through the motions of her job, keeping her distance from Dante as much as possible. She made sure to avoid his gaze, concentrating instead on the various customers that came and went, each one adding to the chaos of her thoughts.
But even as she worked, she couldn't help but notice him watching her from across the room. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and for a split second, she wondered if he could sense her discomfort. Or worse—if he knew what was going on inside her head.
When the night finally started to wind down, she was on her last shift of the night, wiping down the bar one last time. The club was quieter now, the music softer, but there was still an intensity in the air, a simmering tension that she couldn't escape.
As she turned to grab another glass, she almost bumped into Dante. He stood there, right behind her, his presence overwhelming.
"You've been avoiding me," he said, his voice low, teasing.
Isla forced herself to smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm not avoiding you. I'm just busy."
Dante didn't move. "Is that so?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear. "Because it seems to me you've been running away from me for the past few hours."
Isla's pulse quickened, but she pushed the feeling down. "I'm not running from you, Dante. I just have work to do."
He stepped closer, his hand brushing against her arm as he leaned in. "You think you can keep your distance from me forever?"
For a brief moment, she found herself frozen. His proximity was intoxicating, his scent—warm and earthy—filling her senses. It was hard to think clearly, to remember what she was here for. But then, as if a switch flipped, she reminded herself of the plan.
No distractions.
"No," she replied, her voice steady, "but I'm not here for you, Dante."
His expression darkened, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a growl. "You're here for something else, then?"
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with renewed determination. "I'm here to do my job. Nothing more."
He seemed to consider this for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. "We'll see about that," he said softly, before he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart racing in her chest.
Isla took a moment to collect herself, her mind whirling. She was in too deep. She knew it. But she couldn't pull herself out now. She had a plan, and she had to stick to it.
Even if it meant ignoring the way Dante made her feel. Even if it meant letting him kiss Elena while she burned with jealousy.
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