**Isabella's POV**

The spa smelled like eucalyptus and expensive candles. Soft music played somewhere overhead while a woman with gentle hands massaged warm oil into my face, neck, and shoulders. Mateo had booked the full facial without asking—had simply told the receptionist “everything for her” and then disappeared into a private suite for his own treatment.

I lay there with cucumber slices over my eyes, trying not to melt into the table, but my mind kept drifting back to the car. To the way he’d kissed me like the world could end any second. To the desperate edge in his voice when he said “Come here, Angioletto.” I still didn’t...