Page 126 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
“I suppose that depends on La Corona.” But holy hell, for as angry as I am at Isabella, I can’t stomach the idea of killing her.
“I want to know what she said,” Don Vitale says. “I’m no lip reading expert, but I’m certain she mentioned my name.”
“I’ll find out,” I promise him.
I feel Marco's eyes on me, assessing. We've known each other since we were kids, and he can read me better than anyone.
He knows I'm walking a dangerous line, protecting Isabella while serving La Corona.
The fact that he hasn't called me out publicly gives me hope, but I'm not naive enough to think this won't have consequences.
"Roman," Don Ferraza says quietly, "whatever my daughter has done?—"
"I gave you my word when I married her," I interrupt. "I'll find the truth. All of it."
“All of what?” Don Monti asks. “I thought this was just about keeping Don Ferraza’s daughter from revealing our secrets.”
“She knows no secrets,” Leo says defensively. He looks to me like he wants me to back him up.
Instead, I respond to Don Monti. “I think there’s something larger at play here and Isabella was targeted to help whoever it is in playing it. She’s a pawn being manipulated but…” I continue on knowing La Corona doesn’t care that she’s being used. “She needs to understand that. I’ll make her understand. You have my word.”
I storm into the apartment, slamming the door behind me.
Mrs. Rossi jumps, her hand flying to her chest. "Mr. Ginetti, I wasn't expecting?—"
"Where is she?" My voice is deadly calm despite the rage coursing through me.
"Mrs. Ginetti is in the bedroom with Angelica. They're?—"
I don't wait for her to finish, striding down the hallway. I can hear Angelica's high-pitched laughter, followed by Isabella's softer voice.
For a moment, I hesitate outside the door, noting I’m about to blow to hell what had been a lovely few days of peace.
God, we were almost a family.
I push the door open. They're sitting cross-legged on the floor, fabric and scissors spread around them.
"Daddy!" Angelica jumps up, running toward me. "Look what we're making!"
I force myself to smile, catching her as she launches herself at me. "Hey, Angel. Looks great." I set her down gently. "Can you go help Mrs. Rossi for a bit? I need to talk to Isabella."
Angelica pouts but compiles, shuffling out of the room. Isabella watches her go, then turns to me, her smile fading as she registers my expression.
"What's wrong?" she asks, standing slowly.
I close the door, leaning against it. "You tell me."
She frowns, confused. "Roman, what?—"
"The bakery. Today. FBI Agent Olivia Ricci."
Isabella's face drains of color. She takes a step back, bumping into the bed. "How did you?—"
"La Corona has eyes everywhere. Did you really think you wouldn't be seen?" I wonder why the fuck my own men didn’t tell me, although they probably didn’t know the woman was FBI.
I move closer, keeping my voice low so Angelica won't hear. "After everything, after I promised to help you, you're still playing both sides?"
"No! I didn't—" She takes a shaky breath. "She approached me. I didn't seek her out."
