Chapter 5 Emotional Crisis

Isabella’s POV

I had never felt my chest this heavy before. Everything that happened last night still spun in my head like a broken record. Enzo was my brother, the tattoo, the fight with my mom. It was too much. I needed to breathe, to talk to someone before I completely lost it.

So, I did what I always did when life went up in flames.

I called Tasha.

“Girl, you sound like someone who just saw a ghost.” Tasha’s voice came through the phone, bright and dramatic as always. “What happened this time? Did your mom finally agree to buy you a private island?”

“Tasha, it’s serious.”

“Oh, so not an island. Okay, spill.”

I sighed, pressing my fingers against my temple. “Can we meet? Like now? It’s kind of… urgent.”

That got her attention. “On my way. Same café?”

“Yeah. Please hurry.”

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in our favorite corner of the café, nursing a half-cold latte. The clink of cups, the smell of roasted coffee beans, and the low hum of conversations filled the air. It should have been comforting, but my mind was chaos.

Then came the whirlwind—Tasha, in oversized sunglasses and a bright pink jacket, strutting in like she owned the place. Heads turned, as always.

“There she is! The woman who dragged me out of my bubble bath on a Saturday morning,” she announced dramatically, sliding into the seat across from me. “Now talk before I assume you’re secretly pregnant with your professor’s baby or something.”

I groaned. “Can you be serious for five minutes?”

“I can, but where’s the fun in that?” she teased, smirking. “Okay, tell me. What happened?”

I hesitated, my heart pounding. Where did I even start? “I—uh—spent the night with Enzo.”

Tasha froze mid-sip of her iced latte, eyes going wide.

“Wait, wait, wait—back up.” She leaned forward, slamming her hand on the table. “You lost your V-card, and I wasn’t aware? And who is Enzo, exactly?”

I winced. “Tasha, keep your voice down!”

“Oh, don’t you dare hush me, Bella!” She whisper-yelled, clutching her pearls like she was about to faint. “You go and lose your virginity to a man and then call me days later like it’s a grocery update?”

“That’s not even the worst part,” I whispered, glancing around nervously. “Tasha… he’s step my brother.”

For a full five seconds, she said nothing.

Then “I’m sorry, what?” She shrieked, nearly choking on her drink. “You mean to tell me you—oh my God—girl, are we in a Netflix drama right now?!”

“Shhh!” I hissed, waving my hands frantically. “Keep your voice down!”

She blinked at me, stunned, then covered her mouth, giggling nervously. “Okay, okay. Breathe, Tasha. Don’t faint. But please, start from the beginning. This is way too much tea to sip without context.”

So I told her everything—the dinner, the tattoo on Giovanni’s neck, and the fight with my mom. How Enzo had acted so cold afterward, and how my world tilted when I found out the truth.

By the time I finished, Tasha’s expression had cycled through at least five different emotions—shock, disbelief, outrage, and something close to pity.

When I was done, she just sat there for a moment, blinking. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “Girl, your life could fund three seasons of a hit series.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, that helps.”

“No, I’m serious,” she said, grinning. “Mafia tattoos? Secret family drama? A forbidden attraction? Bella, this is not your downfall—this is your origin story.”

I shook my head, trying not to smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously fabulous,” she corrected. “Now, what’s your plan? Because if it were me, I’d march up to that fine man—brother or not—and demand an explanation.”

Before I could reply, my phone buzzed on the table.

Tasha’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me—”

I glanced down. “Oh my God.”

“Who is it?” she whispered, leaning over like a cat ready to pounce.

“Enzo,” I said, heart skipping.

Her grin turned wicked. “Talk of the devil and he shall text.”

I opened the message. It was short. Hey, sis.

I blinked. That was it. No explanation, no apology. Just hey, sis.

Tasha’s eyes darted between me and the screen. “Wait, that’s it? That’s how he’s playing it? Like this whole thing is some cute little family reunion?”

“I don’t get it,” I muttered. “How can he act so calm? Like… he’s totally fine with this?”

“Maybe he’s trying to mess with your head,” Tasha suggested. “Or maybe he’s actually that chill—which, let’s be honest, makes him even hotter.”

I glared at her. “Tasha!”

“What?” She shrugged innocently. “Just because he’s your brother doesn’t mean my brain stopped working.”

I groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m realistic. And you,” she said, tapping my arm, “are overthinking this. You need to calm down, talk to your mom, and get the full story. Don’t let your brain write the worst version before hearing the truth.”

I sighed. “You think I should?”

“Yes! You’re already drowning in assumptions. Go home, talk to her, and find out what really happened. Then, and only then, can we plan whether to cry, scream, or burn the house down together.”

Despite everything, I smiled faintly. “You’d actually burn the house down with me?”

“Girl, I’d bring the gasoline and snacks.”

I laughed softly. “You’re insane.”

“I prefer the term ‘loyally dramatic,’ thank you.”

Later that evening, I found myself standing outside the house, staring at the front door. My palms were sweaty, my heart uneasy, but Tasha was right—I needed to know.

I took a deep breath and went in.

Mom was already waiting in the living room, as if she knew this talk was inevitable.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was thick, loaded.

Then she broke it first. “Bella, we need to talk.”

“Then go ahead.” I said,

“We’re going to Paris,” she said quietly.

I blinked. “What?”

“For the wedding,” she continued. My heart froze.

Wedding?

Before I could even process it, she added, “And you’ll understand everything when we get there.”

My breath caught, my pulse racing as the words sank in.

Paris.

Wedding.

All of us.

Imagined his grin, his perfect white teeth, and how he looked incredibly gorgeous whenever he showed it. I hate the dreading feeling. I couldn’t last half an hour before I lost my mind around him.

Whatever was waiting there—it wasn’t going to be simple.

And somehow, deep down, I knew this was just the beginning of something far bigger than the chaos I’d already faced.