5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Gabo Godoy

I 've been on edge all fucking day. When I gave Bella my card this morning, I thought she would text me so I could save her number, but nothing. I haven't heard from her all day. I know she's fine since I asked Mario to send someone to make sure she was safe, but still. It's not the same as hearing from her. I'm not even sure why I am so on edge about it; it's not like she's mine to protect or that someone has threatened her. But the moment I saw her coming out of my jet, it was like I felt she had become mine .

Which is ludicrous. I mean, who the fuck thinks like that? I think I've just been alone for a long time now, and seeing a beautiful woman took my brain for a spin. I think it's best to take the weekend off and let her settle alone in my penthouse.

You know that's not the only thing that pulls you to her. The girl is smart, ambitious, and driven, the little voice in my head says. I decide to shake off my thoughts and make a phone call on the drive home instead.

My brother picks up after the second ring.

"What?" Vicente scoffs. I roll my eyes; he's such a dick when he wants to be.

"Hello to you too, dear brother. I was going to ask how you are, but I guess I already got my answer."

"Sorry." Vicente releases a deep breath. "It's been fucking chaos today."

"Then my call is the answer to your prayers," I tell him, my idea taking more form in my head.

"You got my attention, Gabo. What do you have in mind?"

"What about a bro weekend? I need to let off some steam, too." I pray he doesn't pry for more than I can tell him right now, but even more, I pray he accepts. My brother is married to his business. Rarely ever takes time off.

"Okay, where and when?" he answers immediately. I'm utterly shocked he accepted, but I'm not about to poke the bear.

"Your choice. I can go over to London, or we can meet halfway in Ibiza."

"I need to get out of London. Ibiza will do." "Fuck yes. I'll take care of everything. I'll email you the details soon."

"Okay." He releases another breath. I wonder what has him so wound up. "And Gabo? Thank you. I owe you."

Vicente disconnects the call before I can ask him what's going on, but I'll have time this weekend. I know he'll loosen up after a few drinks.

As soon as the elevator opens to the main floor of my penthouse, a delicious smell hits my nostrils. I'm immediately transported to my childhood in my parents' hacienda. I can't believe Bella cooked ni?os envueltos —a delicious set of veggies wrapped in thin beef slices and spices. But if I thought the smell was good, I'm left breathless when my eyes fall on Bella. This morning, when I came out of the shower, she was dancing while cooking, and it was a sight for sore eyes—Bella can move. But nothing would have prepared me for the barely-there shorts she's wearing, which give me a painful peek at her ass cheeks.

She moved all the furniture out of the living room to create a makeshift dance studio. She's wearing headphones, so she hasn't noticed that I've arrived. I can't hear the music she's dancing to, but the way she's moving, her entire body is telling a story—one that I'd like nothing more than to join.

She's swaying her arms, side to side, creating a storm. Her feet are quick, and she jumps from one side of the room to the other—impressively, I must add. Then she stops suddenly, wrapping her arms around her waist protectively. Her face contorts as if she were in pain, and somehow, it hurts me, too. It's incredible how affected I am just by her movements. I'm sure if I were listening to the music, I'd be bawling like a baby. It's art. And it's beautiful.

She opens her eyes and freezes in place the moment she sees me. A lovely blush brightens her cheeks, and I can't help but keep staring—she's so beautiful. Her hair is a wild mess, her chest rises and falls to the beat of her heart, and sweat glistens on her beautiful creamy skin. She's a vision.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were home. I'll put everything back the way you had it after dinner. Are you hungry?" she asks as she rearranges her messy bun. When she lifts her arms, her tits also go up, and I have to inhale a sharp breath.

Hosting Bella definitely wasn't a good idea when I haven't had a chance to get laid in months. This new project I'm working on is more demanding than I anticipated. It's a good thing I'm leaving for the weekend. I can relax, decompress, and come back on Monday ready to kick ass—and avoid having unholy thoughts about her.

"Yeah, I could eat," I reply. I loosen my tie, and Bella swallows hard, and that immediately catches my attention. Damn, I need a cold shower.

"Great, I'll plate the food, you serve the wine?" she asks as if we've done this a thousand times, and it feels nice. Every single woman I've brought to my place who has tried to make breakfast in the morning gets the cold shoulder. I've never been a man to go from a one-night stand to a steady relationship. I don't even think I've ever wanted a steady relationship, so the mere thought of feeling okay with Bella cooking dinner for me is wild. It must be because she's family—she's my best friend's little sister, for fuck's sake.

We sit on the patio, enjoying the calm breeze. The street lights below and the sounds of the city are the perfect background for the evening. Amid the cacophony of people chatting and cars passing by, my place feels like an oasis in the middle of the chaotic city. I take a bite of the food Bella prepared, and my eyes close in ecstasy. Damn, it tastes just like the one Graciela, our nanny, used to make when we were growing up.

"This is delicious. Where did you learn to cook?" I ask, honestly intrigued.

Bella lowers her gaze and wipes her lips gently with her napkin. So demure, yet so sexy at the same time. When she raises her gaze to find mine, a small smile appears on her beautiful face.

"Inés, our nanny, became best friends with Graciela when we moved to Chile, and they exchanged recipes. The first time Ines prepared this at Luca's place, I fell in love." I chuckle at her response but nod in understanding.

"Yes, I've heard they became tight. Isn't it crazy that both of our families are so different, yet have so many things in common? For instance, this dish is my favorite ever. If I could only eat one thing for the rest of my life, it would be this." I raise my glass and motion for her to do the same.

"I had no idea it was your favorite, but I'm glad I decided to prepare a nice dinner instead of taking a bath and going to bed as I had originally planned. Jet lag is no joke, and I'd rather tire myself out now than go to bed and wake up in the middle of the night."

The image of her taking a bath forms in my head, and I immediately push it away, shaking my head. Instead, I go for what I think is a harmless and friendly toast. "Here's to a fantastic meal with unbeatable company."

Her eyes light up at my compliment, and I immediately berate myself. What the fuck I am doing flirting with her? I need to stop this shit. Instead of overthinking what I just did, I chug the entire glass of wine and help myself to a refill. She doesn't say anything, but she eyes me warily, as if she's worried about me. I should slow down on the drinking for a bit; I don't want her to think I'm a heavy drinker.

The rest of the meal goes by quickly as she smartly changes the topic and goes on to tell me what she did all day. I'm captivated by her bubbly personality. The way she describes the cafe where she sat for a while at Piazza Maggiore, enjoying focaccia with the most delicious cappuccino she has ever had—her words, not mine—I'm truly enjoying her story until she mentions she met someone. My brain halts like a rollercoaster stopping in its tracks.

"Hold on. Who did you say you met?" I try to sound nonchalant, but my tone has more emotion than I anticipated.

She raises an eyebrow and gives me a smirk that my dick immediately notices. Fuck.

"His name is Giacomo, and we're taking the same summer class," she says with a chuckle as she takes a sip of her wine.

I bite my lip, trying to take a couple of minutes to calm down, but she mimics me and bites her lip, and that only makes my dick grow harder. I'll have to wait for a while before I can get up from this table.

"Anyway, he seemed nice, so we exchanged numbers." She shrugs like it's not a big deal. A feeling too close to jealousy forms inside me. Jealous of what? I have no idea. Maybe it's because the fucker got her number, and I didn't.

"So you made plans for the weekend already?" I ask, and she shakes her head no. I release a deep breath, and she eyes me curiously.

"I told him I had just arrived and wanted to get a feel for the city this weekend. I'll see him on Monday in class, anyway."

Instead of calming down, this makes me even more jealous. She's already thinking about seeing him? It serves me right for getting hard for a girl who's eight years younger than me.

"Oh, about this weekend… are you okay staying here by yourself?" I ask, taking the opportunity to share my plan with her.

"Gabo, I truly appreciate you letting me stay at your place, but under no circumstances am I expecting you to be my babysitter. There are plenty of places for me to visit this weekend." She gives me a sweet smile, and I smile back.

"I know you don't need me around you twenty-four seven, it's just I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything while you're here."

"I promise I won't, but now I'm intrigued. Where are you going?" She leans down the table, closing the distance between us, and I can smell her heady scent from dancing mixed with a soft floral aroma—it's deliciously intoxicating.

Clearing my throat, I answer, "I'm spending the weekend with my brother in Ibiza." Her eyes grow big, and a cheeky smile appears on her face.

"That sounds like fun. And definitely not a place I would see Vicente going."

I bark out a laugh—she's not wrong.

"Yeah, I didn't think he was going to agree to go with me, but I guess he needs a break, too." Her face morphs at my words, and my eyebrows furrow.

"I didn't realize it was your idea. I'm sorry you need a break from me already." She gets up from the table and takes her plate inside.

"Bella, please wait." Fuck, I'm such an idiot. She places the plate in the dishwasher and turns to face me, crossing her arms on her chest. I try really hard to not let my eyes wander to her chest—I really do—but it's a lost battle.

"You have to believe me, I have no issue with you staying here. I didn't lie when I said during the toast that the company is unbeatable. But it's been a stressful time at work with this large project, and I just need to release some steam," I tell her, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

She releases a sigh, and her shoulders sag as her arms go to her sides. "I'm sorry. I'm in defense mode with you, and it's not fair. I guess I have some trauma I have to work through. So tell me, what's the project about?" she asks, visibly more relaxed than she was a couple of seconds ago.

What trauma is she talking about? I need to find a way to go back to that point.

"My firm specializes in renovating old buildings. Like this," I explain as I open my arms to show the building we're in. "We try to retain as many of the original details as possible on the exterior, while bringing all the modern amenities to the inside," I say, pride evident in my tone.

"This place is beautiful. I actually am curious to know if the rest of the apartments are as luxurious as this one." She bites her lip while giving me a shy smile, and I smile back, loving her compliment. It is a very luxurious place.

"Why don't we go back to the patio, and I'll tell you more about this building."

She nods and leads the way back outside. I sigh in relief, thankful I was able to diffuse the situation.

We sit opposite each other on the couch next to the dining table, as relaxed as can be.

"The original plan was to create a multipurpose space: housing on the top floors and commercial on the main floor. But the moment I came in and saw the city views from this patio, I knew I had to make this my main residence."

She's giving me her undivided attention, focused on my every word, and for some reason, that makes me feel important.

"I designed the penthouse for myself, of course." She chuckles at my words, and I join her. "But I also wanted to have plenty of space for when my family visits. So I designed two apartments with a total of eight bedrooms. Plenty of space for anyone who wants to visit. The other two floors are my garage."

Bella's jaw hits the floor, and I give her a smirk. "Yeah, I like cars. I collect them, actually," I say with a shrug as I take a sip of my wine.

Once she recovers from her shock, she gives me a smirk in return. "Of course you do. I mean, you wouldn't be a millionaire if you didn't have an extravagant car collection or something decadent like that."

"A billionaire," I correct her, and she laughs out loud.

"Oh, I apologize. Mr. Fancy-Billionaire-Pants," she says, glee in her eyes, and I laugh at the moniker.

"So let me get this right. You have a five-floor building just for yourself in the heart of downtown Bologna, and your guilty billionaire pleasure is to collect cars. You also own an architecture firm that's quite successful. Anything else I need to know?" she asks expectantly, and I grab my chin with my thumb and forefinger, pretending to be hard in thought.

"Well, I own a yacht, a house in the countryside, another one on the beach, and you already know about the jet. I have more money than I know what to do with, and my pride and joy is my architecture firm. We've worked hard for our reputation, and I'm trying to expand my business into the warehouses and data center building industry." I don't like flaunting my assets in front of others, but for some reason, I feel like Bella won't judge me for sharing a few of the things I own.

"That's impressive for someone your age, Mr. Billionaire," she says, and I feel the heat rising in my cheeks at her compliment.

"I recently learned my brothers are also billionaires, and I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it. I know they've worked really hard for what they have, especially Luca, but having billions of dollars is just crazy to me." She shakes her head like she's truly in disbelief that her family has amassed so much money.

"But anyways, I'd love to go to your country house one day. I enjoy the city, but the peace and quiet of the country is something I truly love," she says with dreamy eyes, and I'm already making plans in my head to take her out to my house in Monterosso.

"Definitely. We'll have all summer for me to show you around," I say, making a silent promise to help her have the best time of her life.

Bella gets up from the couch and yawns as she stretches her arms above her head. The movement causes her shirt to rise, giving me a peek at her toned abdomen. She gives me a little wave as she makes her way to her room. I nod, and the moment she's out of sight, I rub my hand across my face.

Why do I enjoy her company so much?

I need to keep telling myself she's just a family friend. I'm simply enjoying her company because she's nice, smart, and has all these grand plans and dreams, not to mention how beautiful she is. Nothing more. Ugh, I need to pack and get out of here.

On my way to my room, I make a mental note to let Mario know that he needs to have a security detail taking care of her this weekend.

She's my responsibility, after all.