Chapter 2: He's Her Stepbrother?

"God, spare me," Isabella murmured a prayer under her breath, her heart steeped in despair as if Death himself had once again swung his scythe in her direction.

"Isabella, you look as pale as a ghost. What's the matter?" Grazia's eyes filled with worry as she noticed the distress etched across Isabella's face.

Shaking her head slightly, Isabella tried to mask her vulnerability. However, when the man's gaze suddenly fell upon her, it was as if a vice had clamped around her throat, squeezing the air out of her lungs. She felt like a fish stranded on dry land, gasping desperately for breath with each attempt to open her mouth.

Her reaction was always the same when she was faced with an unavoidable danger – a suffocating sense of being a fish out of water, struggling to breathe even as she gasped for air. She was timid and fearful, her courage long since drained away by the relentless torment she had suffered living with her aunt and cousin.

As Isabella grappled with her inner demons, she saw a smile crack across Emanuele's icy visage. It was a strange smile, one that sent a shiver down her spine. He recognized her, too! The realization hit her like a freezing tidal wave, causing her muscles to tense involuntarily. She felt a sudden fear that this man might gun her down right there in front of everyone.

The people around them were blissfully unaware of the silent standoff between them. Grazia approached Emanuele first, wrapping him in a hug. He kissed the top of her head, murmuring, "Sorry I'm late."

After giving Sophia a hug as well, Sophia led Isabella towards Emanuele.

"Emanuele, meet my daughter, Isabella Gould. She will be your sister from now on."

"Sister," Emanuele echoed the word, as if grappling to comprehend it. The strange smile still lingered on his face, his eyes swirling with a dark, hidden intent. He extended his hand towards Isabella. "Isabella, it's good to meet you."

Isabella stared at Emanuele's large, sturdy hand, the very same one that had been drenched in blood not long ago, the hand that had taken a man's life without remorse, and had nearly taken hers as well. Her stomach churned in discomfort. How could she possibly summon the courage to shake hands with Emanuele?

She couldn't understand her mother's decision, why she would choose to marry a retired mafia boss when she was still young, beautiful, and had so many better options. Marrying into such a family was akin to stepping into the depths of hell, and as Sophia's daughter, Isabella had no choice but to face the wide-open gates of the underworld.

The man standing before her was her grim welcome.

Seeing Isabella's hesitation to shake his hand, Emanuele's eyebrows knitted together, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. His irritation was palpable, though he managed to keep it in check.

"Since we're going to be family, I'll overlook this small breach of etiquette," Emanuele stated.

Isabella had hardly breathed a sigh of relief when Emanuele suddenly drew her into an embrace. His hold was firm and unyielding. As her cheek brushed against the rigid fabric of his suit, she winced slightly. His overpowering masculine scent, a mix of woody cologne and the faint, elusive scent of blood, enveloped her, overwhelming her senses.

"But only this once," Emanuele's hot breath tickled Isabella's ear as he whispered in a low growl, "I regret not killing you when I had the chance."

With just those words, Isabella's body tensed up. She couldn't help but recall the near-death experience from earlier. It made her want to scream and run away from here.

Emanuele released her just as quickly as he had embraced her, leaving Isabella to regain her senses.

"Let's eat!" Grazia urged Isabella, guiding her towards the dining room. Sophia and Leo followed closely behind.

"Don't be scared of Emanuele," Grazia tried to comfort a visibly shaken Isabella. "He may seem intimidating, but he's actually a good person."

Isabella couldn't help but scoff inwardly. Good person? The man was a devil in disguise!

Regret washed over Isabella. Why did she have to be here, in this situation? Even with her back turned to him, she could feel Emanuele's gaze on her, his eyes piercing her like those of a venomous snake, making her feel like she had no escape.

Despite her best efforts to ignore Emanuele, his presence was an undeniable force. He was like a Category 5 hurricane, impossible to disregard even when he was standing still.

The house was grandiose, the luxury she had witnessed in the living room carried through to the dining room.

In contrast to the small, round dining table at her family's home, this one was long and adorned with an extravagant feast. Candlesticks with slowly burning candles were arranged neatly, and a vase filled with fresh roses and lilies, their petals glistening with dewdrops, sat in the center of the table.

Leo motioned for the servants to pour the champagne, announcing, "From tonight onwards, we're all family."

The scene was picture-perfect, setting the stage for a pleasant dinner. But Isabella's appetite had deserted her, especially when Emanuele chose to sit beside her, disregarding the sprawling table and numerous vacant seats.

Before sitting, he had politely asked, "You wouldn't mind if I sit next to you, would you?"

Isabella wanted to express her discomfort, but she held back. It was her first meal with her mother and stepfather, and she didn't want to cause a scene or embarrass her mother.

"I don't mind," Isabella managed to utter, her words slow and deliberate.

Emanuele seemed amused by her response. His demeanor became more relaxed, his hand resting casually on the back of her chair. When he thought no one was watching, he gently ran his fingers down her back.

She was small, but her figure was well-defined. Through her thin clothing, he could feel the softness of her back, the faint warmth seeping through, reminding him of a kitten, and he found himself reluctant to stop.

His gaze roamed over her chest without shame. Despite her modest attire, he could still discern the shape of her breasts, rising and falling with each breath.

Isabella felt a surge of annoyance at his touch and shot him a glare, "Please, respect me!"

Even a cornered rabbit would bite when threatened. She might be scared, but she wasn't spineless.

Emanuele, however, found her reactions amusing. Her fragile frame, her petite stature, her delicate neck – it looked as if he could snap it with a mere flick of his fingers. She appeared less of a threat and more like a cute, frightened animal in his eyes.

Emanuele scoffed at her audacity. This little thing had no idea of her place, daring to challenge him? The last person who had had the audacity to cross him ended up as dinner for the dogs.

With these chilling thoughts swirling in his mind, Emanuele reached out, his hand closing around the back of Isabella's neck.