Chapter 8 What are your intentions?
Isabella's perspective.
I stood on the balcony, resting my elbow on the cool parapet, my eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. Mom had really outdone herself, managing everything so beautifully—the garden below was lush and vibrant, and the veranda on the first floor looked like something out of a magazine. But as I took it all in, I couldn't help but remember that it hadn't always been this way. The last time I visited, everything was more chaotic, less perfect.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed when my mom's car pulled away from the mansion. The sound of the engine fading into the distance brought me back to reality. I sighed deeply and let my gaze wander to the swimming pool. So many memories were tied to that pool—memories of my mom, my dad.
Lost in thought, I was startled by a soft cough behind me. I turned, spotting Ezekiel standing there with two mugs in his hands. I immediately felt a surge of irritation and turned away, refusing to acknowledge him.
He moved to stand beside me, close but not too close. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge his intentions.
"I made cappuccino," he said, his voice gentle, as if trying to soothe the tension between us.
"I heard someone likes it."
I turned away, ignoring Ezekiel, but he wasn't about to give up that easily. He extended the mug toward me, flashing a confident smile. "I guess she won't mind having something from this handsome cook."
I shot a sidelong glance at the mug, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. After a minute of silent resistance, I finally accepted it with a moody expression. As I took the mug, I noticed Ezekiel's smile widen, clearly pleased with himself.
"Thank you!"
I took a tentative sip, half-expecting it to be awful, but to my surprise, it wasn't bad at all. In fact, the taste was unique, unlike any cappuccino I'd had before. A pang of regret hit me—I shouldn't have thrown that cake away. If Ezekiel wanted, he could probably open a restaurant.
"How is it?" he asked, watching me closely.
I raised my brows, trying to play it cool.
"Um… not bad."
"Not bad? So, it's not so good, right?" he teased, clearly fishing for more.
I arched my brows in response. "When did I say it's not good? I just said 'not bad,' which means it's good."
Ezekiel's grin widened as I took another sip. I couldn't help but think that he probably enjoyed hearing compliments a bit too much. Maybe it was a common trait among handsome men—they thrived on praise.
I decided to play along. "You could open a restaurant, you know?"
"That means you like it?" he asked, leaning slightly, clearly enjoying the banter.
I smiled, taking another sip before replying, "After all, a handsome man made it. How could I say it's bad?"
**
Ezekiel chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful exchange between us. Despite myself, I was beginning to find our back-and-forth amusing. Even though he was my mom's boyfriend, there was something disarming about him that made it hard to stay annoyed.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, "How did you meet my mom, Mr. Ezekiel?"
He leaned casually against the wall, his gaze steady on me. "We met because of a business purpose."
He paused, as if recalling the memory fondly.
"Then, after working with her, I started falling for her."
I rolled my eyes dramatically.
"Boring…"
Ezekiel raised an eyebrow at my reaction, clearly surprised.
"I didn't think it would be boring. If it's about my mom, then maybe, but I didn't expect that from you."
He laughed again, a deep, genuine sound that caught me off guard.
"You've only known me for a few hours, and now you're expecting me not to be boring?"
"Of course, you're not easy to impress. I can tell a lot about a person's likes and dislikes after talking to them, seeing their tastes," I said, raising an eyebrow.
"What are your intentions?"
He sighed, as if the answer was simple. "Right now, my intention is to take you out and show you around."
"Want to go out?"
A smile tugged at my lips, surprising me. "Not a bad idea. I was starting to think my day was going to be a disaster, but now I think it might turn out okay."
Ezekiel dipped his head slightly, a mock formality in his tone. "Please, get ready, my lady. I'll be waiting for you."
His behavior was unexpected—charming, even. There was something about the way he treated me, a mix of respect and playfulness, that made it hard to stay indifferent. I found myself smiling back, almost against my will.
"Alright," I replied, my voice softer than before.
"Give me a few minutes."
As I walked to my room to change, I couldn't help but reflect on how quickly the day had shifted. I had assumed that once I got here, my days would be spent arguing with my mom, but here I was, actually looking forward to hanging out with her boyfriend.
With a handsome, dashing man!
Ezekiel had promised to show me around, and he didn’t disappoint. We spent the day exploring the beauty of Italy, visiting iconic places, and even indulging in some shopping. It was a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and experiences that left me feeling unexpectedly lighthearted. Despite my initial reservations, I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. Ezekiel wasn’t the boring, predictable guy I had imagined. He was actually fun to be around—charming, attentive, and surprisingly easy to talk to.
As dusk settled in, we returned to the mansion, both of us tired but content. The moment we stepped into the hall, though, the atmosphere shifted. I spotted my mom, her back turned to us, talking on the phone. Her voice was sharp, almost angry—a tone I wasn’t used to hearing from her.
“Robert, please don’t you dare try to contact her,” she said, her words clipped and final. It didn’t take much to realize she was talking to my dad.
I froze, lingering by the doorway until she noticed us. Her tone softened instantly, though the tension was still there.
“I’m hanging up now,” Mom added before ending the call abruptly. She turned to us, a forced smile on her face, trying to mask whatever had just happened. “How was the tour, honey?” she asked, her voice now sweet and warm.
“Good,” I replied with a nod, though my thoughts were elsewhere, still replaying the brief snippet of her conversation with Dad.
“Go freshen up. We’ll have dinner together,” Mom said, moving closer to Ezekiel and kissing him on the cheek.
The sight caught me off guard, and before I could fully process it, I quickly made my way to my room, feeling a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite identify.