“It doesn’t change that she’s been talking to a Fed,” Don Monti says.
Don Ferraza’s face crumples. "She believes she's seeking justice for her mother."
Don Vitale clears his throat. His eyes are somber as he turns to Don Ferraza. "I'm truly sorry about this situation, Leonardo.Truly." His voice carries genuine sympathy. "Isabella is family. She's been like a cousin to me since we were children."
Don Ferraza nods gratefully, a flicker of hope crossing his features.
"But she's compromised all of us." Don Vitale’s tone hardens. "Every family at this table. Every business. Every man and woman under our protection. We can't have that. Not even from one of our own."
The hope in Don Ferraza’s eyes dies. His shoulders slump further, the proud Don suddenly looking every one of his fifty-eight years.
"She's my only child. My little girl."
I shift my weight, uncomfortable with the raw emotion.
In our business, sentimentality is dangerous. But I understand his pain.
If it were Angelica…
The thought stops me cold. I can't even complete it.
"The agent is the real problem," I say. "If he targeted her specifically, used her grief as a weapon."
Marco's eyes narrow at me. "Are you defending the informant, Roman?"
"No." I meet his gaze steadily. "I'm identifying the bigger threat. Cut off the handler, and we might salvage the situation."
"Or she could run straight to another agent with everything she knows," Don Monti counters.
"There's another way," Don Ferraza says. "A marriage."
That came out of left field. A marriage doesn’t stop Isabella from talking or taking back what she might have already shared.
"You can't be serious." Marco's laugh is sharp and cold. "You suggest we reward treason with a wedding?"
"Not a reward." Leonardo leans forward, suddenly animated. "A solution. She marries into the Calabresi family, to you, Marco. She becomes bound by blood. Her loyalty transfers. Her silence is guaranteed."
Thank God I’m good at poker, because of all the solutions Don Ferraza could suggest, that’s the craziest.
Marco has successfully avoided marriage for his forty-six years. I’d been with him on the non-marriage train until I met Emilia ten years ago.
When I lost her three years ago, I had a moment to think Marco’s stance on marriage was a good one.
You can’t get hurt if you don’t love.
But if I hadn’t loved Emilia, I wouldn’t have Angelica.
So now, at forty-five, I’m onboard with Marco. No more love. Casual sex, sure, but no love.
"You propose that I marry your daughter?" Marco's voice is dangerously soft. "A woman who believes I murdered her mother?"
"The marriage would prove your innocence," Leonardo presses. "Why would you bring her into your family if?—"
"No." Marco cuts him off. “I’m not bringing a federal snitch into my home, into my bed.”
Don Ferraza flinches. I’m not sure if it’s Marco’s tone or mention of a bed.
But what does Don Ferraza think would happen if Isabella married Marco?