Page 108 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
I wait for her to respond, but she doesn’t.
"Your quest for truth can bring people to our doorstep who won't hesitate to use a child as leverage." My voice drops lower. "I've seen it happen, Isabella. I've cleaned up the aftermath."
She remains quiet. I’m not sure if it’s because my words are resonating or she’s simply being obstinate.
"You think the FBI cares about your mother? They don't." I hold her gaze, needing her to see the harsh reality. "The FBI has one goal, bringing down La Corona. Your mother's case is just leverage, Isabella. A tool they're using to manipulate you. If solving her murder interfered with their larger objective, they'd bury the truth without hesitation."
Isabella's eyes widen slightly, doubt flickering across her face.
"Think about it. Has Blackwood ever offered you concrete evidence? Or just enough breadcrumbs to keep you on the hook?" I let her mull on that for a moment. "When you asked him to extract you from this life, did he jump at the chance to help you? Or did he push you to stay put, where you're useful to him?"
Realization dawns in her eyes and I press my advantage.
"It's transactional for him. You give him access to La Corona, he dangles the promise of justice for your mother. But the minute you stop being useful…" I snap my fingers. "You become expendable."
Isabella's hands grip the fabric in her lap.
"I'm not saying to trust me blindly," I continue, softening my tone. "But at least understand who's really using you in this equation. Blackwood doesn't see a grieving daughter seeking justice. He sees an asset, a way in. And maybe you don’t want this life, don’t want to live in this world, but right now, it’s the only thing protecting you.”
She shakes her head. “By threatening me?”
Okay, so she has a point. “You’re the daughter of a Don. Of La Corona. Any other woman in this life who did what you did would already be dead. They don’t want to kill you, Isabella. But they’re not going to let you bring them down, either.”
She tilts her head. “Is La Corona behind my mother’s death?”
“No.” I have no doubt. At least not officially. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a connection somehow. The FBI won’t care ifyou put yourself in danger or if you get killed. As long as they get what they want, they don’t give a shit about you.”
I take a deep breath, letting the tension drain from my shoulders. I have to remember that Isabella isn’t really a threat but a woman trapped in circumstances beyond her control. "I'm offering you a different path. One where we work together to find the truth about your mother."
Isabella's eyes narrow with suspicion. "How is your help any different? You’ll just make sure to protect La Corona. You don’t care about me either.”
That’s not true, I want to say. Oddly, I care more than I’d expected to. “I think there’s something more going on here and I want to find out to protect you as well as La Corona. I also think it’s not unreasonable for you to have answers about your mother. I want to help you with that, but in a way that doesn’t get us killed.”
She stares at me dubiously. “Us? You mean me.”
“I mean us. We’re bound together now.” I hold up my left hand, showing her the ring. Granted, the ring isn’t the symbol of everlasting love, but it does bind us together.
She looks down at her ring as if she’s only just realizing it’s there.
"Look, I'm not saying trust me blindly. I'm saying let's do this together. I have resources, contacts in every corner of this city, access to information."
“If that’s true, why haven’t you or La Corona looked into my mother’s murder? Why am I the only one who cares?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I’m offering help now.”
"And if those answers implicate someone in La Corona?" she asks. "Even someone close to you?"
That would be problematic. "Then we deal with it. Work with me, not against me. Let me help you find the truth, whatever it is."
Doubt continues to cloud her features. Fucking hell. What will it take to make her understand?
"I know you may despise me. Hell, you have every right to. This marriage, this life, none of it was your choice. So, how about in exchange for your cooperation, when this is over, when we find who killed your mother and untangle whatever game is being played, I'll help you escape this life?"
Her eyes widen, genuine shock replacing wariness. "You'd do that?"
Perhaps I should have thought this through more, but I nod. "Once we've ensured everyone's safety, I'll find a way for you to leave. Start that design business you dream about. Live on your own terms."
For a moment, her expression is hopeful, but seconds later, it falters. “My father would never allow it. La Corona wouldn’t?—”
