The Mafia Sister

chapter 14

Isabella's POV:

As I followed to his room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity. What kind of person was he, really? We had only met a few days ago, but already I felt like there was something mysterious about him. When he said his room was like his soul, I didn't know what to make of it.

"It is entirely dark," I noted.

"Like my soul," he replied.

"Why is your soul black?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.

"The corporate world is not as nice as it looks," he said, his tone bitter.

I could relate to that. I had seen my own father work long hours in his office, barely coming home to spend time with us. It was a harsh reality, but one that I had learned to accept.

As we entered his room, I noticed that it was sparsely furnished, with only a bed, a desk, and a small bookshelf. Victor went straight to his desk and unlocked a drawer, pulling out a .

"Your hand," he said, gesturing for me to come closer.

I extended my hand, and he gently began to clean the wound with antiseptic. I winced in pain, muttering under my breath about the torture of antiseptic.

Victor chuckled. "It's not that bad. You're just a little dramatic."

I couldn't help but smile at that. Maybe he wasn't so serious after all.

"Why did you not tell me that wounded you when you came back?" he asked, as he finished bandaging my hand.

"It's not important," I replied, shrugging it off.

"But it is important," he insisted. "I have to take care of you. I am your guardian. It is my duty."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "The obligation of an adult or that of a brother?"

"What do you suppose?" he asked, turning to face me.

I stood up, feeling a little uncomfortable under his gaze. "I feel like I will never be able to fully understand you in my entire life."

"Maybe not," he said, his voice softening. "But that doesn't mean we can't try."

As I turned to leave, he called out to me. "You're far too refined for a 16-year-old, you know."

I turned around, surprised by his comment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you have a maturity about you that I don't often see in people our age," he said, his eyes searching mine. "It's impressive."

I felt a flush rising to my cheeks at his praise. "Thank you," I said, feeling a little shy.

We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other before I finally turned to leave. As I walked down the hallway, I couldn't help but feel a sense of worry. 

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