The next morning, Isabella descended the stairs, her hand brushing along the railing. She was still half-dazed, her thoughts drifting to the night before. As she entered the kitchen, Dante stood by the counter, shirtless as usual, his sweatpants riding low on his hips. His perfectly sculpted physique gleamed under the soft morning light, a cup of coffee in hand.
Isabella froze for a second, taking in the sight. Damn him and his infernal perfection. She tugged her sweater's sleeve nervously, conscious of the prominent hickey on her neck. Dante glanced up from his coffee, a smirk tugging at his lips as his dark eyes trailed over her, lingering on the mark he'd left.
"Morning, micia." His voice was husky, a tease hidden beneath his tone. "Sleep well?"
She cleared her throat, trying to keep her composure. "Better than you, I'm sure. You're up early."
He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. "Work waits for no man—or devil, in my case."
She rolled her eyes, grabbing a glass of water and sitting across from him. "You're insufferable."
"And you're adorable when you're trying to insult me."
She glared at him, but the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her. As she sipped her water, Dante leaned back casually, eyeing her with an amused expression.
"So" he began, his tone deceptively light, "are you going to tell me about him?"
"Who?" she asked, feigning ignorance.
"Your 'friend'. The one from last night. What's his name? Alex?"
Isabella stiffened, her grip on the glass tightening. "What about him?"
Dante tilted his head, his smirk sharp. "Should I be concerned about him, or was he just one of many mistakes?"
"Many?" she scoffed, setting her glass down. "Hardly. My father had control over who I could see. Most of them were... well, approved candidates."
"Approved?" Dante raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"
She hesitated, her cheeks flushing. "There were a few, but I didn't want sex so.....it never worked out" she admitted. "Alex... and some others."
"Names" Dante demanded, leaning forward slightly.
"Christ—" she began.
Dante nearly choked on his coffee, his eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"
"Not that Christ" she snapped, rolling her eyes. "It was his name."
"Of course it was" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Go on."
"There was also Matthew and Bartholomew—"
Dante froze mid-sip, his expression incredulous. "Bartholomew? You dated someone named Bartholomew?"
"Hey, don't judge me!" she protested, crossing her arms. "He was a priest."
Dante set his coffee down, shaking his head in disbelief. "From a priest to a devil. That's quite the leap, micia. Impressive."
Isabella glared at him, but her lips twitched as if fighting a smile. Before she could respond, the sound of a door opening interrupted them.
From the adjoining door to Matteo's house, Clara strolled in, wearing what was unmistakably Matteo's oversized t-shirt. Her hair was tousled, her bare legs on full display. Behind her, Matteo burst in, looking both sheepish and panicked.
"Clara—" Matteo started, but the words died as he locked eyes with Dante, Isabella, and the scene unfolding.
The room fell into stunned silence. Dante raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, while Isabella's mouth fell open. She pointed a trembling finger at Clara.
"What... why... how?" Isabella stammered, her brain struggling to process the sight.
Clara opened her mouth to explain, but Isabella cut her off. "Don't. Just—don't."
Matteo attempted to step in. "Isabella, I can explain—"
"Oh, you will" Isabella said sternly, her tone sharp enough to make even Dante glance at her in approval. "In the study. Now."
She turned her attention to Clara, her eyes narrowing. "And you—stay here. No eavesdropping."
Clara raised her hands in mock surrender, but the mischievous glint in her eyes remained. "Fine, fine. Can't I at least get a coffee?"
Isabella's glare intensified, making even Clara shrink back slightly. "And you—" She spun toward Dante, her cheeks flushing as she realized he was still very shirtless. "For the love of God, put on a damn shirt!"
Clara smirked. "Oh, come on, Isa. Can't we enjoy the view for a bit?"
Isabella's glare turned deadly, and Matteo groaned, muttering, "Clara..."
Dante chuckled, clearly entertained, as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.
"We're having words, Matteo."
"Yes, ma'am" Matteo muttered, shooting a warning glance at Clara as he disappeared through the door.
Inside the study, Isabella closed the door with more force than necessary, crossing her arms and glaring at Matteo. He stood near the desk, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. She paced back and forth before stopping abruptly, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"Explain. Now" she demanded, her voice low but dangerous.
Matteo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, it's not what it looks like."
Isabella arched a brow, unimpressed. "Oh, really? Because it looks like Clara walked into my house wearing your shirt, looking like she just crawled out of your bed."
Matteo opened his mouth to respond but quickly closed it, clearly struggling for words. "Okay, maybe it is what it looks like" he admitted, earning a sharp glare from Isabella.
"Matteo" she said slowly, her tone dripping with exasperation, "how long has this been going on?"
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "A few weeks... maybe a month."
"A month?" Isabella's voice rose slightly before she took a deep breath to calm herself. "And neither of you thought to tell me?"
"I wanted to" Matteo said quickly. "But Clara insisted on keeping it quiet. She said you'd overreact."
"Well, she was right" Isabella snapped, pacing again. "This is Clara we're talking about! She's impulsive, reckless, and—"
"Crazy about me" Matteo interrupted, his voice softening.
Isabella stopped mid-step, staring at him. Matteo's usual calm, indifferent demeanor was replaced by something she rarely saw in him—vulnerability.
"She's... different with me, Isa" he said, meeting her eyes. "It's not just some fling. I actually care about her."
Isabella's expression softened slightly, though her frustration remained. "You're serious?"
Matteo nodded. "As serious as I've ever been about anyone."
She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine. But if you hurt her, Matteo, I swear—"
"I won't" he assured her. "You have my word."
"Good" she muttered, heading toward the door. "Let's go before Clara burns the house down."
Matteo followed her out, but the sight that greeted them in the living room made Isabella freeze.
Clara was lounging on the couch, her legs casually draped over the armrest, tossing a stress ball up and down. Dante stood nearby, his jaw clenched, his dark eyes filled with barely restrained irritation.
"Are you always this annoying, or is it just for me?" Dante asked coldly, glaring at Clara.
She smirked, entirely unfazed. "Oh, lighten up, devil. You're not so scary."
Dante's fingers twitched, and Isabella could tell he was seconds away from snapping. She stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.
"Dante" she said firmly, giving him a warning look.
He glanced down at her, his anger softening slightly, but the edge in his voice remained. "She's testing my patience, micia."
Clara sat up, grinning. "Oh, come on. Don't I get points for making your life more interesting?"
Dante took a slow, measured breath, clearly restraining himself. "You're lucky Isabella likes you."
"And you're lucky she likes you" Clara shot back.
Matteo groaned, stepping forward and grabbing Clara's arm. "Okay, that's enough," he said, pulling her to her feet. "Let's go before you push him over the edge."
Clara pouted but allowed herself to be led toward the door. As they left, she called over her shoulder, "See you later, devil!"
Dante rubbed his temples, muttering under his breath in Italian. Isabella hid her smile, patting his chest soothingly.
"Relax" she said softly. "She's harmless."
"She's insufferable" he corrected, but the corners of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement.
Isabella leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for not killing her."
"Yet" he muttered darkly, but his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. "You owe me for this."
She laughed, resting her head against his chest. "I'll bake you cookies."
Dante smirked. "You better. Lots of them."