Page 119 of Isabella

When I don’t shift the gear to drive, he says, “Now, Niccolò.”

My gaze remains locked on the steering wheel. “How do I know you haven’t done anything to Isabella?”

“You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“Hah, well, since that’s not going to happen, I’m going to need you to tell me… How do I know you haven’t done anything to Isabella?”

Silence fills the empty space of the cabin before my dad finally says, “You have my word that Mauricio hasn’t touched a hair on your little girlfriend’s head.”

“Your word means nothing to me,” I growl out, unable to control my anger. “Either you prove to me that she’s okay, or I’ll kill you right here, right now.”

“You think you have the ability to do that when I’m the one aiming a gun at your head?” he yells, and I use his outburst to catch him off guard, grabbing the barrel of the gun while hitting his wrist and dismantling it from his hand.

Turning it on him, I release the safety and put my finger on the trigger. “How about now, Dad?”

His widened eyes soften, the shock from me stealing his gun being replaced with humor. “What’re you going to do, shoot me, son?” He grumbles out a laugh before facing forward in his seat. “See where that gets you.”

My finger hovers over the trigger, and it takes everything in me not to pull it and paint my leather seats with his blood.

“I highly suggest you hand my gun back to me, Niccolò. You don’t want to see what will happen if you don’t.”

It fucking infuriates me that he has a hold over me, but Isabella’s face pops up in my mind, and I know I can’t kill my dad. Yet. I’ll find her—unharmed—and then he’s fucking dead.

Putting the safety back on, I hand the gun back to my dad.

“What an embarrassment you’ve turned out to be. You could’ve just gotten rid of me, yet here you are, making dumbass decisions because of a woman.Thisis what I meant when I said they bring nothing but trouble, andthisis why you’ll never beat me. Now drive.”

My hands grip the steering wheel, whitening my knuckles as I pull out from the private parking garage.

“How did you figure it out?” I ask my dad.

He lets out a grim chuckle. “You know you almost had me. I had no idea you actuallyfellfor the DiMaggio girl until Mauricio told me. Let me guess, she’s the whore I told you to cut loose before I sent your ass to Sicily?”

I neither confirm nor deny that because it doesn’t matter. He knows exactly how I feel about Isabella.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he says. “I sent Mauricio back from Miami early so he could work himself into Castello’s territory. I told him to check on you and your little girlfriend. He said he found her at that little boutique and when he went to find you, he ended up following you to the DiMaggio estate. Now why would you be going there without the girl, Niccolò?”

I don’t try to lie myself out of this because it’s clear he already knows the answer to that question.

Letting out an amused scoff, he says, “You don’t even have the balls to say it to my face, huh, kid?”

I grind my teeth to avoid having an outburst before saying in the calmest voice I can muster, “You clearly know what I was doing there. Why would I bother wasting either of our time repeating what you already know?”

“You really want to test me when I can call Mauricio right now and tell him to kill that pretty little bitch of yours?”

My grip tightens again around the steering wheel, and I imagine slamming on my breaks and watching my dad go flying through the front windshield to his death. But as much as I want to do that, I know I can’t. Not until I have Isabella back in my arms.

“You want the truth?” I ask. “Fine. When you sent me to Sicily, I made a decision that when I came back, I would get back what you took from me, and in order to do that, that meant taking over the family.”

My dad lets out a laugh, but there’s no humor behind it. “Take over the family? You think you can undermine me?” he growls out.

“I don’t think I can,” I say, keeping my eyes peeled on the road, following the directions of the GPS. “I know.”

Silence fills the air again before my dad finally says, “Alright. I’ll indulge this little fantasyland you’re living in. Howexactlydid you think you were going to pull that off?”

“I already did.”

My dad hesitates, and out of the corner of my eye I see the rigid lines form on his face. “What do you mean,already did? What did you do, Niccolò?”

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