Page 127 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
“And yet you talked to her. Then after, you didn’t think to call me immediately."
"I was going to tell you tonight." Her eyes meet mine, pleading. "I swear, Roman. I didn't give her anything."
I want to believe her. God help me, I want to. But I've seen the video. "What did she want?"
"Information on the Vitale family. Their operations or something." Isabella wraps her arms around herself. "I told her I didn't know anything."
"And?"
"And nothing. I shut her down."
I study her face, looking for tells, for the micro-expressions that would give away a lie. Her eyes are wide, frightened, but steady.
“Did she give you a phone? What was in the envelope?”
“Copies of my mother’s notebook. She was offering it in exchange for information."
This is new. My anger flickers with uncertainty.
"And did you take that deal?"
"No." She shakes her head vehemently.
“You’re lying. I saw her give you the envelope.”
“I called her out for making my mother’s justice conditional on my doing her job.” She picks up a folder, holding it out like some kind of peace offering. "This is it. I was going to show you tonight.”
I take the folder from her hands, recognizing its importance. It could reveal Mrs. Ferraza’s killer. It could tell me what the fuck is going on.
"You need to understand what this looks like from where I'm standing," I say, opening the folder. "The timing. The secrecy."
“I wasn’t being secret. I was just waiting until you came home. I swear to you, I was going to tell you tonight."
I want to believe her.
The part that's held her while she slept, watched her with Angelica, felt something stir in my heart that I thought died with Emilia.
But the other part, the enforcer, the survivor, can't afford to be wrong about this.
"If you're playing me, Isabella…" I leave the threat unfinished.
"I'm not." She reaches for my hand, her touch light but insistent. "Read it with me."
I study her wide eyes, pleading for understanding and trust, but this could be the best performance I've ever seen.
I start to open the folder when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I check the screen and curse under my breath. Paulie from the docks.
"I have to take this." I step away from Isabella, turning my back to her. "What is it, Paulie?"
"Boss, we got serious problems. The shipment from Palermo, someone tipped off the Coast Guard. They're doing a 'random inspection' right fucking now."
My blood runs cold. That shipment contains more than just olive oil and wine.
"How much time?"
"They just started. But the special cargo is?—"
"Don't say another word. I'm on my way." I hang up and turn back to Isabella, who's watching me with those wide, anxious eyes.
