Claiming Isabella
Copyright 2018 Monica Clayton
Published by M.E. Clayton at Smashwords
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental
Formatting: Smashwords
Cover: Adobe Stock
Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Authors_Note
Chapter_1
Chapter_2
Chapter_3
Chapter_4
Chapter_5
Chapter_6
Chapter_7
Chapter_8
Chapter_9
Chapter_10
Chapter_11
Chapter_12
Chapter_13
Chapter_14
Chapter_15
Chapter_16
Chapter_17
Chapter_18
Chapter_19
Chapter_20
Chapter_21
Chapter_22
Chapter_23
Chapter_24
Epilogue
Playlist
About_the_Author
Other_Books
Contact_Me
Acknowledgements
First and foremost I have to thank my family for their support! Nothing I accomplish is a success without their love.
Secondly, I have to thank Kamala for not laughing at me when I told her I wanted to write a book. Also for being my guinea pig and for loving the kooky group of characters that took residence in my head as much as I do! Chasing Quinn, Claiming Isabella, Conquering Kam and Capturing Happiness would never have happened if not for her encouragement and enthusiasm!
And seeing as this is my first attempt at writing (and writing a series), I want to thank everyone who took a chance on me when they bought this book! Please note that this is a completely independent project and any typos, errors or silliness falls solely on my shoulders.
Dedication
For my son-
Just like Julian, your demons may be are a part of who you are, but they will never overshadow all that is good about you. I love you with every piece of my soul.
Author’s Note
Claiming Isabella can be read as a standalone, but you’ll want to read Catching Avery where it all began and Chasing Quinn where it kept continuing. No one wants to miss out on kidnapping plots, pissing contests, karaoke nights and inappropriate office sex! Not to mention, you’ll already be in love with Julian and Isabella by the time you read this!
Happy Reading Folks!
Prologue
The Seven Deadlies.
There's Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Lust, Greed, Wrath and Pride.
So which is the worst?
First, there's Sloth. Being lazy and unproductive can be just as addicting as drugs or gambling. Your mind and body get used to doing nothing, to being nothing. Sloth can make you neglect responsibilities and make you lose value in yourself and others. Laziness can keep you poor, unfit and a burden on society.
Second, there's Gluttony. Over indulgence. There's a guilty feeling that comes with gluttony. We feel it when we overeat, when we over spend, etc. I think it's safe to say, we've all experienced gluttony at least once in our lives. Gluttony likes to sneak up on you. There's nothing wrong with having just one more slice of pizza...until you find yourself fifty pounds overweight one day, of course. What's the harm in having ten different purses, when you can only carry one at a time? Gluttony will have you overweight and in debt before you even know what’s hit you. The sneaky little bastard!
Then, there's Envy. Envy can keep you from making any real personal connections in life. I mean, how can you really call yourself a friend if you secretly hate whenever one of your friends find good fortune? Envy can make you detest everything you own and have worked hard for. Your car, your house, your clothes are all perfectly fine...until your neighbor gets a fancier car, bigger house and designer clothes. Envy can eat you up alive. Envy can turn your soul dark. That's no bueno...no bueno at all.
Now, let's talk about Lust.
Lust.
Lust is a motherfucker of a sin. Nations topple because of lust. Families are destroyed because of lust. People become diseased because of lust. Lust clouds the best of judgments. But to be fair, can you name one thing...just one thing...that feels better than sex? The feel of a man's hands on your body, the goose bumps you get when his lips touch your skin, the heat you feel when you know he's turned on by you, the power you feel because you know there is nothing he won't do to satisfy you, that first thrust inside you and let's not leave out the aria of the entire sexual opera...when he makes you cum. What feels better than that?
Next, there's Greed. Greed can make you shady and underhanded. It can make you so hungry for more, that you go into debt because your neighbors just bought a Lexus, but you're driving a Toyota. Greed tricks you into believing your life is always missing something. It makes you become an episode on Investigation Discovery because you poisoned your husband for his life insurance. Greed has you always feeling empty, and for some, there's almost nothing you won't do to fill that void. When you're greedy, contentment is a false achievement. You will never be satisfied. Never.
Onto Wrath. Wrath is the equivalent to temporary insanity. You can literally lose your mind when you are in a state of wrath. Wrath will have you destroying property and it can make you verbally and physically abusive. Wrath will have you looking at a life prison sentence because you've gone and murdered someone in the heat of the moment. Wrath will make you unreasonable. Wrath can make you feared by those you love and who love you. Wrath can consume your soul. It's mind numbing to all things good and peaceful. Wrath is a true monster with no rationale. Wrath can destroy everything good in your life.
Finally, we have Pride. Pride, pride, pride, pride, pride....it sure is a nasty little guy. Pride can cause an insurmountable amount of pain. It keeps you from saying sorry, when you really should. It is the largest killer of relationships around. It makes life harder because you refuse to ask for help and it kills love because you cannot bring yourself to forgive. A lot of people can forgive mistakes, but when all you can think about is how that mistake made you look stupid? Lying, infidelity, neglect, all that can be worked through...humiliation, not so much. Pride can make you walk away from the best thing that ever happened to you. It can also make you lonelier than you have ever been.
So, let me introduce myself....
My name is Isabella Nichole Delucci and this is a little story about how my friend’s quest for a one night stand invited these seven jackasses into my life.
Chapter 1
Sloth: Because when everyone else around me doesn’t put in the effort…why should I?
Isabella~
My ass hadn’t hit the chair yet and my phone was already ringing like clockwork. I couldn’t stop the smile that lit up my face when I looked at the name flashing across the screen. I wasn’t surprised by t
he call, just giddy that it kept being made all this time later.
I swiped the phone icon and answered, “Good Morning.”
“Marry me,” came the exact same greeting I received every morning since I met Julian.
About four months ago, my friend, Quinn, dragged me and our other friend, Avery, out to a new hot spot called Xavier’s because she was in dire need of getting laid. But instead of finding some random penis to take home, we ended up bumping into their bosses, and while it’s been a whirlwind of drama worthy of a soap opera, Avery is now engaged to Nicholas and Quinn is living with Chase.
However, it ended up being only me who got her world rocked that fateful night at Xavier’s. Avery and Quinn made Nicholas and Chase fight for them, while I quietly rolled over and gave myself up to Julian almost instantly.
And I’ve been getting my world rock almost nightly ever since.
Avery and Quinn worked at SMA, Global Inc. in the finance department, headed by Julian. Nicholas Savage was the S, Julian Moretti was the M and Chase Alexander was the A of SMA Global, Inc. They were a financial investment powerhouse worth billions. Nick was the investment genius, Chase was the client manager and Julian was head of finance. It all fell in line with their strengths. Nick was sensible, Chase was personable and Julian was…well, Julian hated people, so numbers and spreadsheets were his strength.
They had all three grown up in Oakland, California in what is arguably the worst neighborhood in Oakland. The Deep East, it’s called, and their childhoods were anything but pleasant.
Julian had a lot of demons, but he claimed I quieted them. Not sure how I did that exactly, but I let him believe whatever he wanted. He’s too special and too unstable to tell otherwise.
“Not today, babe,” I answered, as I always do when he asks me to marry him.
He sighed. “One day you’re going to say yes, Dove.”
I closed my eyes. His voice did things to me. Hell, his existence did things to me. Julian was gorgeous in that too good to be real kind of way. He was a 28 year old god masquerading as a human.
He stood 6’4” with a body that was eight-pack abs of perfection. He had hair as black as night paired with the most intense hazel eyes I have ever looked into. He had black brows that matched his hair and eyelashes that I’d sell my soul for. His face was strong and all male featured that he kept clean shaven. His lips were full and have done so many wicked things to my body that I find myself staring at them at random. You’d never know it, because Julian very rarely smiled, but the man also possessed a deep set of dimples that would bring on world peace if he’s just share his smile with others.
As for the man’s body…Sweet Baby Jesus up in Heaven.
Julian was rock hard everywhere, and whether it was watching his muscles tighten from picking me up, his abs constricting as he slammed into me, or just watching his forearms ripple as he wrote something down…it never failed to make me soaking wet. He also had a sinister looking tattoo of God playing chess with Satan covering his entire upper back. The chess pieces were souls instead of traditional game pieces. But since it’s the only tattoo he had on his body, it leapt out at you whenever he turned his back to you. It’s stunningly gorgeous and hot as hell.
The only other thing about him is his scars. It took me a long time not to lose myself in overwhelming sadness for him every time I had come across a new one that had a new story. At this point in time, I’ve seen and kissed every inch of his body, so I knew all his scars and their stories, but sometimes when I find it hard to believe that he’s real…the scars make me want to murder everyone who has ever harmed him. And I’m not the violent type. That’s Quinn.
I snapped myself out of that train of thought. “Well, when I finally do, I don’t want a wedding. I want the six of us, Kane and your mother, to all fly to Las Vegas where we can get married without any headaches or expectations.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t care if you want to get married on the street corner by a down on his luck preacher, Isabella. I’ll marry you whenever, however you want me to.”
My heart skipped at beat as it often did with Julian. Julian’s feelings were extremely intense. If he was happy, he was genuinely happy. If he was sad, he was actually heartbroken. If he was fine, he was content with all things around him. It was when he was upset, hurt or mad that he was at his most volatile. If Julian was furious or felt threatened, I had no doubt he was capable of murdering someone in the heat of his emotional high. He wasn’t bipolar or anything like that; he just felt whatever he was feeling very intensely.
And, Holy Mary Mother of God, when he was feeling turned on? Let’s just say, sometimes, he really makes me believe that I’m the only woman on the planet.
Julian was all magic in the bedroom. The fact that his dick was almost ten inches didn’t hurt either.
Except when it did hurt…and I do love when it hurts.
“We still on for tonight, Dove?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure what time everyone is coming over, but as far as I know, we’re still on,” I answered as I finally started to pull out the stacks of papers and reports on my desk.
About four years ago, I moved to San Jose due to a promotion I was offered by the company I work for. I’m a marketing executive for Willshire Marketing, and so far, they have been an awesome company to work for. Their pay and employee packages don’t compare to that of SMA, but they’re more than enough for me.
“Okay, baby, I’ll see you tonight,” Julian promised.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I echoed.
I hung up and got started on my work day. I was about an hour in when, Janie, the 5th floor receptionist knocked lightly on my door as she let herself in.
She was carrying a vase filled with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.
Shit.
My heart dropped a bit, but I plastered a robotic smile on my face. “Good morning, Janie.”
She placed the vase of flowers on the edge of my desk. “You sure are one lucky lady, Isabella DeLucci. I only get flowers like this if it’s my anniversary.”
I stared at the offending flowers and almost told her she could have them, but I didn’t want to start any unnecessary gossip.
I looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Janie.” I kept the smile on my face until she walked out and shut the door behind her.
This was the fourth bouquet within two months, and they weren’t from Julian. Julian wasn’t a candy and flowers kind of guy. He didn’t need to buy me things to make me feel special or loved. The man just had to look into my eyes and I knew it.
The flowers were a problem because I had no idea who they were from. I know a lot of women find the notion of a secret admirer romantic and all, but it all depends, in my opinion. It’s only romantic if the man presents himself to you in order to move forward or put a stop to it.
What’s the purpose of a man continuously sending you flowers anonymously?
That’s just creepy.
Not to mention, I still haven’t found out a way to tell Julian without it ending in him locking me up in his bedroom, never letting me out.
It’s not that I didn’t trust Julian, but I had no doubt if he thought I was in danger somehow, he’d take over my life. And no matter how much I loved him, I would never hand my life over to a man.
Any man.
I was a product of my mother’s affair with a very unavailable married man and when she told him she was pregnant, he made it very clear that she had been a side piece all along, and he was not going to leave his wife for her. Ever.
Their affair continued until the sight of her rounding belly was finally enough to scourge up some guilt and shame. But, instead of coming clean with his wife and doing the right thing, he chose to dump my mother and go on to live happily ever after with his wife and their children.
If that wasn’t tragic enough, my mother chose to spend her life waiting for him to come to his senses and be with her. Well, I’m 28 years old now, and he still has noth
ing to do with her.
Well…as far as I know.
My father isn’t a topic I engaged in, no matter how many times my mother has brought him up, so I really didn’t know if they kept in touch or not. The way I see it, he didn’t care enough to know about my life growing up, why would I care about his life now?
And, as wonderful as Julian is, I have no plans to ever let my life revolve around a man. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I handed everything I was over to Julian knowing he was the type of man to never give it back.
I had no doubt that he loved me, but he was just so intense and absorbing, I knew I could lose myself to him so easily.
I picked up the flowers and carried them over to the elevator. On the way down to the garage floor, I wracked my brain, trying to find a way to tell Julian. Even if I thought he’d be reasonable about it, there was still Chase and Nick to contend with, and I had no doubt they’d be standing behind him encouraging him to take control of the situation.
The elevator doors opened and I walked the vase of flowers to the garage dumpster where the previous flowers had met their demise, as well. I stood there, as I had the previous three times, wondering who in the hell would send me flowers?
I didn’t get out much, so I can’t imagine where I would have met someone where I made such an impression upon them that they would start sending me flowers. Avery and Quinn were my only real friends, and since we met the guys, we’ve been our own little click. It was eerie to think it might be someone here at work, but who else could it be?
I picked up the phone and dialed Quinn. She answered on the second ring, “You better not be calling to cancel, hooker.”
God love this woman. “No, I am not. I don’t care how much drama you and Avery partake in, I will not, not see you hoebags. I’d miss your faces too much.”
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