POV: DIMITRI
Dimitri found Isabella at an upscale restaurant, having lunch with three women who looked like they'd stepped out of a fashion magazine.
He walked in like he owned the place...because he did, technically. The restaurant was on property he controlled.
Isabella saw him immediately. Her eyes widened, then narrowed.
He crossed the restaurant in long strides, stopped at her table.
"Ladies," he said pleasantly. "Would you mind giving me a moment alone with Ms. Russo?"
They scattered like birds.
Isabella set down her wine glass, composed. "Dimitri. What a surprise."
"Is it?" He sat down across from her, casual. Relaxed. "Because you've been following Eve all morning. Sending her threatening texts. Working with my brother to intimidate her." He leaned forward. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"
"I sent her one text. Hardly threatening."
"Blocked number. Telling her I'll get bored. Trying to make her doubt us." His voice dropped, dangerous. "That stops now, Isabella."
