Isabella and Dominic's project continued to move forward, with Isabella throwing herself into the work to distract from the lingering fear and anger from the attack. The tension within the Romano family simmered beneath the surface, but Isabella maintained her resolve to act cautiously. Vincenzo, determined to ensure her safety, hired more guards to protect her at all times.
One evening, Marcus found himself in a dimly lit bar, nursing a drink and brooding over the latest family developments. He was on his third drink when a striking woman caught his eye. She moved through the crowd with a confident sway, her dress clinging to her curves in a way that drew the attention of nearly every man in the room. Marcus, however, was not just any man—he was a Romano, and he had a history with women that was as dark as his family's secrets.
His gaze followed her every move as she approached the dance floor. Unable to resist, he downed the rest of his drink and stood up, his predatory instincts kicking in. He maneuvered through the crowd until he was right behind her, placing a hand on her waist as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"Hey there," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "If you're bored, why don't you keep me company?"
The woman turned to face him, her eyes raking over his expensive watch and tailored suit. She recognized the signs of wealth and power. Smiling seductively, she allowed him to lead her back to his seat. As they sat down, Marcus placed his hand on her thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress.
"What's your name?" he asked, his fingers gently stroking her leg.
"Camila," she replied, her voice equally sultry. They exchanged a few more words, their conversation laced with innuendos. After a few more drinks, Marcus leaned in closer.
"How about we continue this at my hotel room?" he suggested, his eyes dark with intent.
Camila nodded, fully aware of what he meant. They left the bar, making their way to his hotel with a sense of urgency. Once inside the room, Marcus wasted no time. "Get undressed," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.
Camila paused briefly, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. But as she began to comply, Marcus's impatience got the better of him. He grabbed her, throwing her onto the bed with a roughness that made her gasp. He bent her over, his hands gripping her hips as he pushed into her with a force that made her cry out.
"Good girl," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Just like that."
He moved deeper, each thrust more intense than the last. Camila's moans filled the room, mingling with Marcus's grunts of pleasure. He complimented her, his words a mixture of dominance and approval, spurring him on as he continued to take what he wanted.
Time seemed to blur as their bodies moved together in a rhythm of primal need. Marcus reveled in the control he had over her, his power evident in every motion. When he finally reached his peak, his release was accompanied by a raw, guttural sound that echoed in the room.
As they lay there, their breathing heavy and mingled, Marcus felt a sense of satisfaction that was fleeting at best. He knew that no amount of physical pleasure could quell the turmoil brewing within the Romano family, nor could it silence the guilt gnawing at his conscience.
After catching his breath, Marcus rolled off Camila and lit a cigarette. The room was thick with the scent of their recent activity, and the silence was only broken by the soft hum of the hotel air conditioning. He glanced over at Camila, who was now sitting up and fixing her hair.
"That was…intense," she said, her voice a bit shaky.
Marcus smirked, taking a drag from his cigarette. "You enjoyed it."
She nodded, though her eyes betrayed a hint of unease. "Yeah, but I should probably go."
Marcus didn't argue. He watched as she dressed quickly, her movements efficient. As she opened the door to leave, he called out to her. "Hey, Camila."
She turned, her hand on the door handle. "Yes?"
"Don't tell anyone about this," he said, his tone carrying a subtle threat.
Camila nodded quickly. "I won't. Goodbye, Marcus."
The door closed behind her, and Marcus was left alone with his thoughts. He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray, then lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind wandered back to the family and the ever-present threat of Isabella. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much she was a thorn in his side.
As the night wore on, Marcus's thoughts grew darker. The pleasure from earlier faded, replaced by a cold, calculating anger. He couldn't let Isabella take what he believed was rightfully his. He needed to regain control, to reassert his dominance within the family.
Meanwhile, Isabella and Dominic's project continued to thrive. Isabella, unaware of the danger lurking around her, threw herself into the work with renewed vigor. She met with investors, negotiated deals, and worked late into the night, determined to make her mark and prove her worth to her father.
Vincenzo, ever vigilant, increased security around Isabella. He hired more guards, ensuring she was never alone. The memory of the attack still haunted him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Marcus and Luca were behind it, despite their denials.
One evening, as Isabella was wrapping up a late meeting, she received a call from Vincenzo. "Isabella, I need you to come home immediately. It's important.
"Isabella's heart skipped a beat. "Is everything okay, Dad?"
"Just come home. We'll talk then."