Her words hung in the air between them, each one a barb that seemed to cut deeper into Enrico than she expected. For a moment, he said nothing, his face a mask of tension as if he were struggling to hold back whatever he really wanted to say. He straightened up, his gaze hardening once more.
“You don’t know the full story, Isabella,” he said, his voice controlled but strained.
Isabella’s laugh was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the car. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? That there’s more to the story? That I don’t understand?”
Enrico’s gaze bore into hers, his patience clearly thinning. “It’s not what you think. Things with Carmen... they’re complicated.”
“Complicated?” Isabella scoffed. “Of course, they are. It’s always complicated with you, isn’t it? But guess
