, I've just invited another Asterio into my house. Note to self – buy more sage! He awkwardly stands in the middle of a perisan rug, rather boastfully in his expensive designer tweed jacket. I haven't asked him to sit – he doesn't deserve that much respect and he hasn't bothered to ask.

His deep blue eyes scan the room first, frowning at the items in it before he scans me from head to toe. My grey sweatpants, light pink tank filled with holes and un-manicured nails is all he needs to have his face fill with disgust. Compared to the last time he saw me, playing Dimitri's wide perfectly and looking pristine as ever, this is a very distasteful look on me.

I do not care.

He sighs a jagged breath, mutters Christ's name then regards me with a genuine warm smile. "This is where I find you after months? In Barcelona?" No hello, no greeting – just a small reprimand.

My arms cross over my chest in defence, "Was it you? Or was it your private investigator?"

His wicked lips curve with a small grin, "Yes it was him. Guess you could say I had some help. Don't worry, this stays between you and me. I won't tell my grandson just yet." He winks at me in a pathetic attempt to smoother any tension between us.

I regard him coldly, not an ounce of happiness. "You're too late. I sent Dimitrius back home last week."

His small mouth falls open and he blinks at me "Dimitrius was here? Last week?" Then he's silent for a few short seconds as he starves over the information. I debate telling him the impromptu bed slamming between him and his grandson. But decide, it's best to shut my mouth and have a little dignity. Those are minor details he doesn't need to know. My heart squeezes dry as I think about the next few weeks... Dimitri must be sending the divorce papers soon.

His lips press together that they almost fade into his skin. "Seems like I underestimated you Ms Romero," He sighs a long breath. "You and I got off on the wrong foot, Isabella. I'd like to apologise and explain myself."

I hold my hand up, halting him dead in his tracks. Go suck someone else's blood. "Your grandson and I are getting a divorce, Mr Asterio. There's no reason to bother me much longer. I will be out of your grandson's life in a few weeks." He blinks at me with his thin lips parting. He steps closer to me, surprised. He reeks of old money inheritance and a musty cologne that suffocates me.

His wrinkly forehead is dented in lines of worry now. Christopher Asterio is worried... about me. How interesting. "That makes me very sad to hear, Isabella. I assumed you and him must've worked it out while he came to visit."

We tried... well he tried and I pushed him out with an ugly demand. "Nothing happened between us."

"Dimitri loves you very much. These few months I've watched him break and shatter. That's a man who loves you." I cancel his words out. I've gone deaf to the bone and refuse to acknowledge a single word. I don't remember myself ever being this heartless. In the short time I was with Dimitri, all we ever did was pretend and lie to each other.

"Don't come back for Dimitri. Come back for your Abuela." I frown. "You've scared the poor woman enough. Don't torture her more." My heart breaks into tiny two pieces and crumbles. Abuela... I miss her. In the moment, I let the feeling wash over reminding myself I can't break in front of him.

"If you have nothing left to say, please leave. You know where the door is." He frowns at me but respects my need to be alone. He treks down for the door.

As he opens the door to let the cold air in, he turns over his shoulder and states, "It's a shame, really. You're missing out on the whole show." He's hooked in a line and like the dumb person I am, I caught it.

"What show?"

He shrugs, "Oh, some court proceedings. Asterio V Spencer."

"Spencer!" M'y voice is a tiny shriek of disbelief.

Grandpapa Asterio turns to face me and confirms my worst nightmare. "Jeremiah Spencer stole the NDA from you, Isabella." My world stops moving and a single word doesn't travel into my ear. Funnily enough, three hours later I find myself sitting next to Grandpapa Asterio in his private jet survoler Paris to London.

———

Although Grandpapa Asterio flicks the light on, the penthouse is cold, gray and lifeless. The walls are bare – all the portraits have been taken down and the curtains are drawn stopping the view of cloudy London. Grandpapa Asterio checks his watch and narrates Dimitri will be home soon. I nod and trek it down for his bedroom.

There are a few things we need to resolve – like the huge accusation, him not telling me about Jeremiah and other minor details.

Before arriving at the penthouse, Grandpapa Asterio kindly took me shopping in Harrods and bought me new clothes. It was you're–embarrassing–me–with–those–clothes–and–accept–this–as–an–apology. It will take time to amend our rocky relationship but I still accepted it. My feet are decked with black louboutins that click on the marble and my body is packed tightly into a red Givenchy dress. I feel like a dress up doll.

The minute I step into Dimitri's bedroom, I find myself holding my breath. It suffocates of his cologne and fills my eyes with tears because I've missed him. It doesn't take long for the nerves to settle in and it doesn't take long for the elevator door to open. There's muffled voices from the foyer and Grandpapa insisting Dimitri to go freshen up in his bedroom before resuming an urgent matter. It takes him a great deal of pleas before Dimitri finally gives in and paces it down to the bedroom.

The door opens and my heart seizes up. He's looks broken as ever, his dark hair dishevelled, dark moons rungs underneath his eyes and a week old scruff. Dimitri freezes, his mouth dropping open.

"Hey," I state. "I'm looking for my husband. He's tall, dresses really nicely in suits and has been very lonely recently. Have you seen him?"

I don't hear a reply because he launches into me. He twirls me around in a melodic tumble before he trips over something and crashes into his bed. His weight presses down on me, my hair obscures my vision but despite it all – we're both a hazy mess filled with laughter and crying. He gently moves my hair away from my face, rises up on his elbow and caresses my cheek.

His expression goes soft and painfully tender. "You're actually back." His lips find mine and he's kissing me. The kiss is slow and lovinging, all tender and filled with dreamy sighs.

I haven't realised my eyes are leaking tears until his thing reaches up and wipes it away. "Why are you crying?"

I shake my head at him, "These are tears of joy. I've just missed you."

He gives me his softest smile in the hazy bright light of the bedroom, "No. I missed you more." I cling onto him for dear life, promising myself never again.

In that small moment, I forget everything and let myself be utterly consumed by him. His weight, his colonge, the warmth of his body. The lazy smile against my cheek and the beating of his heart – this right here, is home. Home isn't a place, it's a person. And I've finally found my person. After a short while,

Dimitri asks, "What made you change your mind?"

He balances his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing me, "You. You are the most infuriating man I've met."

"And you, are the most maddening woman I've fallen in love with. I wouldn't want it any other way." He stares into my eyes. "Regardless, I'm glad you're back."

"I haven't let you off the hook just yet. We have a lot to discuss."

"In due time, Bella," but for the meanwhile he silences me with a damning kiss.