Chapter 24

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The smell of roasting coffee came floating toward Isabella as she descended the stairs. She paused in her movement, a yawn escaping her. The night hadn't been generous; tossing and turning every other hour.

Then a bang alerted Isabella, making her quickly look up. She looked over her shoulder as she was certain the sound came from the second floor. It was her mother coming out of the guestroom.

''Those doors sure are heavy,'' Donatella spoke when she noticed Isabella at the end of the stairs. ''Did you sleep well, Tesoro?''

(Treasure)

''Like a feather.'' She plastered a smile on her face. ''Where is Papà?''

''Sleeping.'' Donatella huffed. ''At first, he was reluctant to come here and now look at him. Can't even force himself out of bed.''

Isabella laughed lightly. ''Well, the beds are really soft and comfortable.''

''That they are.''

Her eyes scanned Donatella's face, the dark circles visible despite the light layer of make-up. She guessed her mother wasn't able to get a wink of sleep as well but neither of them admitted it to the other.

They walked to the kitchen and the scent of baked goods hit Isabella as soon as she entered the space. Her gaze instantly went to Giovanni's mother who pulled a tray of biscuits out of the oven. Water began forming inside her mouth seeing the treats.

Donatella walked past her daughter and lend Celia a helping hand. Their jaws moving rapidly up and down, speaking about yesterday's incident.

Isabella zoned them out, not wanting to think about it any longer than she had. There were two other men in the room; Giovanni's brothers. She poured herself a cup of fresh coffee and settled in the chair beside the younger brother. Green eyes planted themselves on the door, hoping to see Giovanni come through it.

''Giovanni isn't here,'' Raffaele whispered.

Isabella gaped at him. ''I wasn't- I- You can't just say things like that.''

Am I that easy to read?

''I'd get used to it if I were you.'' He threw one of his charming smiles.

''I don't think I ever will, Raffaele.''

''You can just call me Raffa.'' He winked. ''I never liked it when people say the whole thing. It's too long. Raffa is short. Quick to say and easy to remember. I told Dante and Giovanni to call me that but they don't want to – say that they're used to Raffaele. The shorter version also has another benefit. Want to know what it is?''

Isabella nodded in response.

''It's easier for girls to say it during se-''

''And stop right there!'' Dante said when his kids entered the kitchen.

Isabella looked round the kitchen and had to hover over the chair. There was a boy and a girl, both barely reaching the countertop. The former had short black hair and the latter chocolate-brown hair. She couldn't shake off how the boy bore a striking resemblance to Dante, disregarding the iris colour of the boy.

''Good morning!'' the little girl chimed. ''I'm Caterina.''

Isabella melted at her cuteness. Even though she just met her, the urge to give Caterina a crushing hug was immense.

''They're mine,'' Dante explained to Isabella.

''I didn't see them during the wedding,'' she voiced her thoughts.

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