Page 26 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
"The phone. Now."
She hesitates, and I feel something snap. My hand closes around her wrist, not crushing but firm enough that she can't pull away.
"You don't understand," she whispers.
But I understand perfectly.
This woman, this liability I've been forced to marry, is still actively communicating with federal agents.
The very thing that nearly got her killed by La Corona is happening under my roof.
I’m as pissed as I’ve ever been, but I’m nothing if not controlled.
My pulse still hammers in my temples, but I force myself to breathe evenly. This isn't some street thug I can simply eliminate.
This is my wife.
“I only asked one thing from you. Just one!” I take in another calming breath. “And you couldn’t do that.”
“Are you going to kill me?” Her voice is remarkably strong considering the question she just asked.
“I’d be within my rights. I saved your life by marrying you?—”
“I never asked you to!”
Anger flares again. “How about I call La Corona together again and they can find another solution? Let me see…” I feign thinking about it. “I think the other option was death. Is that what you want?”
“All I want is to know who killed my mother.”
“And you think the FBI is going to help you with that?”
“They’ve given me evidence?—”
“False evidence, apparently, if you think I or anyone from La Corona killed her.” I shake my head. “They don’t give a fuckabout you or your mother. They’re using you to get to your father, to La Corona.”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s not true.”
I lean forward, my eyes boring into hers. “So they haven’t asked anything about your father’s business? About La Corona? When I take that phone from you, I won’t find any messages indicating you could give them information about me?”
The surprise in her eyes tells me I’m right.
"You have no idea what you're doing," I say, keeping my voice low so it doesn't carry to Angelica's room. "No idea what's at stake."
Isabella lifts her chin, shockingly defiant, all things considered. "I know exactly what I'm doing. Seeking justice."
I step closer, not touching her but making sure she feels my presence. "Know that your actions don't just endanger La Corona. They endanger my daughter."
Something flickers in her eyes, doubt, perhaps.
"Did that ever cross your mind?" I continue, my voice dropping even lower. "That there's a seven-year-old girl sleeping down the hall who could lose everything because of your idiotic crusade?"
"I would never hurt a child," she whispers.
"You think intent matters? When the FBI kicks down my door, do you think they'll politely ask Angelica to step aside? When they take me away in handcuffs or shoot me, who will she have left?"
Isabella's eyes glisten with unshed tears, but I press on.
"Whatever you think you know about your mother's death, whatever evidence you think you have, it's not worth destroying an innocent child's life."
