Page 25 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
I hear Angelica's laughter from down the hall, followed by Roman's deeper voice.
They sound… normal. Happy, even.
It's jarring against everything I believe about the man.
The phone buzzes in my hand, startling me. Finally, a response from Agent Blackwood.
Stay put. Continue gathering intel. Will contact with extraction plan soon.
My fingers fly across the tiny keyboard.
Not good enough. I need out NOW.
I hitSend, heart pounding in my chest. The response comes almost immediately.
No one else has gotten this close to the Calabresi inner circle. Think about justice for your mother.
Tears of frustration burn my eyes. He doesn't understand.
This isn't just some undercover assignment. This is my life.
I've been handed over to a killer, forced to marry him, expected to live under his roof.
They'll kill me if they find out. Roman will?—
The bedroom door swings open without warning. I gasp, fumbling to hide the phone, but it's too late.
Roman stands in the doorway, his expression shifting from neutral to dangerously still as he takes in the scene.
Me, frozen in place, the burner phone clutched in my hand.
"Who are you texting, Isabella?" His voice is quiet, controlled, but there's an undercurrent of something lethal that makes my blood run cold.
"I…" My mind races for a plausible lie, but nothing comes. The evidence is literally in my hand.
Roman crosses the room in three long strides. I back up until my legs hit the edge of the bed. He holds out his hand, palm up. A silent command.
If I refuse, he'll take it by force.
If I run, where would I go?
If I scream, who would help me?
I have no options.
Tonight, my wedding night, is the night I die.
5
ROMAN
I can’t fucking believe it. I’ve caught my bride of less than twenty-four hours hunched over a burner phone like a guilty teenager.
My vision narrows, a familiar darkness creeping in at the edges. The rage builds instantly, hot, visceral, dangerous. I've killed men for less than this betrayal.
"Give me the phone." My voice comes out eerily calm, at odds with the storm brewing inside me.
Isabella's eyes widen. She clutches the device to her chest. She’s backed up against the bed and has nowhere to run. "Roman, I?—"
