THE MAFIA KING'S REBELLIOUS BRIDE

Chapter 7

Isabella stepped inside without knocking, her eyes widening as they took in the sight of his wet, naked body. For a moment, she was frozen in place. Her eyes traveled over his defined chest, taking in the chiseled muscles and the droplets of water glistening on his skin.

She noticed the strong lines of his abs, the way they defined his torso with a sculpted perfection that seemed almost unreal. There was something undeniably magnetic about his presence, the kind of raw, masculine power that commanded attention.

Her gaze lingered on his broad shoulders and the way his muscles flexed as he toweled his hair. There was a sense of vulnerability in seeing him like this, a side of him that was both intimidating and strangely captivating.

She felt a flutter in her stomach, a mix of curiosity and an unfamiliar attraction. She had never seen a man like this up close, and the sight stirred something deep within her.

But then, the realization hit her like a cold splash of water. Enrico was completely naked. The shock of it jolted her back to reality, and she screamed, her hands flying to cover her eyes as she turned her back to him immediately.

Enrico chuckled at her reaction, the sound deep and rich. "You could have knocked, you know," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you were....," Isabella stammered unable to say the words, her face flushed with embarrassment as she kept her back to him.

"It's fine," Enrico replied, still amused. He took in her appearance as she stood there, her back to him. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant set of pajamas, the soft fabric hugging her curves in a modest but appealing way.

Her hair was loose, cascading over her shoulders, and even from this distance, he could catch a faint scent of something floral and sweet. It was a small detail, but it made her presence in his room feel more intimate.

He had quickly walked to his wardrobe and pulled on a pair of pajama pants. His upper body was still bare, but at least he wasn't completely naked anymore.

"You can turn around now," he said, realizing he needed to put her at ease.

She turned cautiously, keeping her gaze averted until she was sure he was decent. "I'm sorry again," she said, her voice softer now. "Alma told me you wanted to see me. I should have knocked first. I am sorry."

Enrico took a deep breath, his expression shifting from amusement to sternness. "A Saviano doesn't apologize, Isabella. Maybe that's how things operate in your father's house, but not here."

Isabella stared at Enrico, feeling a sudden weight from his words. His intense gaze seemed to pierce right through her, making her feel exposed and vulnerable. The way he looked at her was unlike anything she had ever experienced; it was as if he was looking straight into her soul. His gaze made her nervous, and all she could do was nod in agreement.

Satisfied with her response, Enrico moved to sit down on a chair next to the bed. The room was silent except for the soft rustling of the fabric as he settled himself.

"Alma reported that you haven't eaten," he said, his tone more measured now. "Do you not like the food, or are you on a mission to starve yourself?"

Isabella blinked, caught off guard by his directness. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the need to defend herself. "I... I just wasn't hungry," she said quietly. "It's been a difficult day."

Enrico leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over Isabella’s body, making her even more nervous. "If you are to be my wife, you should act accordingly and not have the maids reporting your issues to me," he stated, his tone firm.

Isabella felt a rush of indignation, her nerves taut. It wasn't her fault Alma chose to speak to him about what happened earlier in the day. So, why was he blaming her for it?

Without thinking, she blurted out, "If you hadn’t allowed your mistress to come into this house on the day of our wedding, maybe I wouldn’t have so much to think about and I would have eaten and had a good rest. Or if you didn’t leave me on our wedding day to handle business instead of planning our honeymoon like a normal human being who just got married will do, the maid wouldn’t be reporting to you."

The words hung in the air, and as soon as they left her lips, and Isabella regretted them. She had said too much, spoken too boldly. Her face flushed with embarrassment. She wasn't one to speak that way or in such a tone. She wanted to take it back, but it was too late.

Enrico’s expression shifted from surprise to intrigue. He had expected her to be more submissive, the quiet type who would follow orders without question. But her defiance, her willingness to speak her mind, intrigued him.

"So, you were looking forward to the honeymoon phase?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Isabella’s eyes widened, her heart pounding. "That’s not what I meant," she said quickly, but the damage was done. He had seen a glimpse of her true feelings, and it was clear he found it interesting.

She always imagined her wedding day would be magical, and that her honeymoon would be a romantic getaway, not this. She never imagined she would be married off to a man and expected to just get in line.

Enrico rubbed his bottom lip again, his eyes not leaving her. He seemed to be considering something. "A honeymoon," he mused. "We can still have that."

He stood up from his chair, his tall frame towering over her. His movement was smooth and deliberate, making Isabella suddenly feel hot and nervous. She took a step back, her heart racing.

"What... what do you mean?" she stammered, trying to keep her composure.

Enrico took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers. "I mean, we can start our honeymoon phase now. Just because we didn't leave immediately after the wedding doesn't mean we can't enjoy it now."