Chapter 4

ISABELLA

The apartment is as tidy as if I'd lived there all my life and, as planned, I got rid of a few boxes containing mementos I didn't want to keep. A week has gone by and I'm already getting used to my new surroundings and the neighborhood. As I returned to my building after my morning jog, Stuart, the concierge, called out to me.

"Miss Moretti, you received a bouquet while you were away." He hands me the flowers and I take them, thanking him.

When I get into the elevator, I look at the card in the bouquet of red roses.

Isa, I know I've screwed up, and more than once, but please give me a chance to see you again. Meet me on Friday at 7 pm in our favorite restaurant. Dom.

I snort. He can't even send me my favorite flowers, so I doubt he knows the name of my favorite restaurant. Once through the door of my apartment, I throw the flowers in the trash along with the card. It's out of the question for it to remain in my field of vision. We've been separated for three months, divorced for two weeks and it's only now that he wants to see me. Plus he dared to come to court with the woman he cheated on me with. Argh he managed to piss me off when I was in a good mood.

I've just got out of the shower when there's a knock on the door. I tie my bathrobe and grab a towel to dry my hair.

When I open the door, a tall, dark-haired man is standing behind me. His hair is tied back in a low man bun and he has a well-groomed black beard. But what I notice are his hazel eyes and dimples, which remind me of someone.

"Hello, I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm Knox, I live in the penthouse just above your apartment," he begins.

"Nice to meet you," I reply, unsure.

"We're starting some remodeling work Monday morning and Stuart told me you're working from home so I just wanted to warn you that it might be noisy."

"Thank you for letting me know that's very... considerate."

"My mother always told me not to do to others what I wouldn't like done to me." He replies with a smile that once again brings out his dimples.

"Well, your mother is a very wise person."

"Indeed." He claps his hands. "I've come to tell you what I have to tell you. We'll probably bump into each other from time to time, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to ring my doorbell. Well, technically I don't have a door, but ask Stuart or Tom to ring and he'll give you access to the penthouse. So if you need sugar or flour or salt or even coffee or even to drink coffee with someone or any other hot or cold drink for that matter..."

I stifle a laugh at his clumsiness. "Thank you very much, Knox. I won't hesitate."

"You're welcome... you haven't told me your name, Isabella."

This time I laugh out loud. "I think Stuart had already spilled the beans."

"Yes, but I wanted it to sound natural but..." He sighs, running his hand over his head. "You're making me terribly nervous. I assure you I'm not usually like this. My job involves speaking in front of a whole lot of people."

"And what do you do for a living?" I ask him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh, nothing very interesting. I'm in charge of public relations at the company my brothers and I run."

"Wow, that sounds pretty interesting to me."

"Oh, you know, it's just a hedge fund company. We invest in all kinds of stuff."

"I hope you're better at your job than you are in front of me," I tell him with a smirk.

"I promise. I can send you articles or interviews I've done if you give me your e-mail address or phone number."

"Maybe another time, Knox. Have a nice day." I tell him before closing the door.

I lean against the door for a moment, until his footsteps move away. Where do all these good-looking guys come from? Already Jax, Asher and now Knox. I knew the expression one lost, ten found, but I didn't think I should take it literally.

ASHER

Knox closes the door behind him with a sigh.

"So how did it go?" Jax asks him.

"Terrible. I've never sucked so bad with a woman in my life."

I snort before taking a sip of my coffee. "And you thought it was a good idea to send him," I say to Jax, who looks taken aback.

"Fuck, he's bagging more chicks than both of us put together. But I was nervous talking to her the first time, too."

"We need a new strategy." Our youngest brother declares as he sits down next to me. "Give me a rundown on her file, please."

"Isabella Moretti, 25, lost her mother at the age of eight in a road accident, then her father at 19 to a brain tumor. He was one of the best lawyers in the country and she inherited a small fortune. She works freelance from home as a graphic designer. She was married for four years to Dominic Jenkins, an up-and-coming lawyer who lost everything when they divorced a few months ago. The information I was able to obtain was that he cheated on her with one of his colleagues in his workplace." My two brothers growl when I mention her ex-husband's name. "And she moved into this brand-new apartment the day we met at the bar."

"Good thing the penthouse was available and the owner accepted our offer," Knox adds with a smirk.

"We offered him more than he's worth. Of course, he accepted." Jax adds.

"Let's not stray from the subject at hand," I call them to order. "One of us should go jogging tomorrow morning and stumble across her."