Chapter 63: Has he fucked you yet?

The words hit home. Eve saw it in the flash of anger in Isabella’s eyes.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t I?" Eve leaned forward. "You said you’ve loved Dimitri since you were nine. But have you ever actually talked to him? Not about business or alliances or strategy, i’m talking about real things. His mother. His nightmares. The birds she taught him to name. The guilt he carries. The way he takes his coffee or the small changes he’s made since I came into his life."

Isabella said nothing.

"You don’t know him," Eve said gently. "You know the idea of him. The power. The position. But you don’t know the man who cried when I told him I loved him. The man who sits awake at three AM watching me sleep like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. The man who’s learning how to love for the first time in his life."

"He told you about his mother." Isabella’s voice was flat.

"Everything. About Claire. About what happened. About why he’s terrified of loving me."

"And yet he does it anyway." Isabella looked away, toward the window. "He actually loves you."

"Yes."

Silence stretched between them.

When Isabella looked back, her expression had shifted. Less hostile. More... evaluating.

"I came here to intimidate you," she said. "To find your weaknesses. To see if you were worth all the disruption you’ve caused."

"And?"

"You’re stronger than I expected." Isabella took a sip of the espresso she’d ordered before Eve arrived. "But strength doesn’t mean you’re ready for what’s coming. Antonio won’t accept this. He’ll use you against Dimitri. Others will too. And eventually, you’ll have to make a choice, your safety or his happiness."

"I’ve already made that choice."

"Then you’re a fool." But Isabella said it almost kindly. "A brave one. But still a fool."

Eve smiled. "Probably. But I’m his fool. And that’s enough for me."

Isabella studied her for a long moment, then did something unexpected.

She laughed. Really laughed.

"God, no wonder he loves you." She shook her head. "You’re nothing like what I expected. I thought you’d be... softer. Easier to break."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"You didn’t." Isabella’s smile was sharp but not entirely unkind. "You proved exactly what I needed to know."

"Which is?"

"That I’ve already lost." Isabella stood, smoothing her suit. "He’s chosen you. Completely. And nothing I do will change that." She paused. "But that doesn’t mean I won’t make things difficult. I have my pride, after all."

Eve stood too, meeting Isabella’s eyes. "I’d expect nothing less."

"One question before I go." Isabella’s voice dropped, intimate and cutting. "Has he fucked you yet?"

Eve’s heart stuttered.

The question was so unexpected, so deliberately vulgar coming from someone so polished, that for just a second.....just a fraction of a moment....Eve’s eyes shifted.

She caught herself immediately, schooled her expression, lifted her chin.

But it was too late.

Isabella had seen it.

The realization dawned across Isabella’s face like sunrise....slow, then all at once.

And then she laughed.

Not a polite chuckle. A real, delighted, incredulous laugh that made several other patrons turn to look.

"Oh my God," Isabella breathed, her hand flying to her mouth. "He hasn’t. Seven weeks together and the Devil hasn’t actually fucked you."

Eve’s face went hot. "That’s none of your...."

"He’s been making you wait." Isabella’s eyes were bright with malicious glee. "All this time, all this devotion, breaking engagements and declaring war for you, and he hasn’t even given you what every other woman gets on the first night." She leaned in close. "Do you know what that means, Eve?"

"It means he respects me," Eve said, her voice tight.

"It means he’s using you." Isabella’s voice was poison-sweet. "He’s keeping you desperate. Addicted. Making you think you’re special because he’s denying you what he gives everyone else freely. He’s playing you, Eve. And you’re so in love you can’t even see it."

"You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t I?" Isabella’s smile was cruel now. "I know Dimitri Valentino. I know how he operates. And I know that if he actually valued you the way he claims, he would have made you his completely by now. The fact that he hasn’t?" She laughed again. "Well. Now I know I’ve been worried for nothing. You’re just another toy he’s playing with. And when he gets bored, and he will get bored...he’ll toss you aside like all the others."

"Get out of my way," Eve said, her voice deadly quiet.

"Gladly." Isabella stepped back, still smiling. "Enjoy your coffee, Eve. And when you’re ready to admit that you’re in over your head, that you don’t actually belong in our world, that you’re just a placeholder until he finds someone worthy....." She shrugged. "Well. I’ll be around."

She walked away, her heels clicking on the tile floor, leaving Eve standing alone with her cooling latte and her racing heart.

Marco appeared immediately, having seen through the window.

"Ma’am? Are you alright?"

Eve didn’t answer. She was already pulling out her phone, typing a message to Dimitri with shaking fingers.

Where are you?

The response came within seconds: Office. What’s wrong?

I’m coming to you. Now.

Eve, what happened?

She didn’t answer. Just grabbed her coffee, walked past Marco, and headed for the car.

"Phoenix Talent," she told the driver. "Then the penthouse. I need to pick something up first."

***

POV: DIMITRI

The text from Eve came at 2:47 PM, and Dimitri’s blood went cold.

Where are you?

Something was wrong. He could feel it in the terseness of her message, in the lack of explanation.

Office. What’s wrong?

I’m coming to you. Now.

His chest tightened. Eve, what happened?

No response.

He immediately called Marco.

"Boss?"

"What happened? Where is she?"

"She just met Isabella. Café Noir. They talked for maybe ten minutes. Isabella left first, and Eve...." Marco paused. "She looks upset. She’s heading to her office, said something about picking something up, then coming to the penthouse."

Isabella.

Of course.

"What did they talk about?"