Page 145 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
Salvatore leans closer, his cologne making my stomach turn. "Your mother was planning something that would have shown just how weak your father is. How weak La Corona is. I need to know what you know."
"Nothing!" I cry out, desperation edging into my voice. "I swear, I know nothing about Ernie or any plan!"
My words strike a nerve. Salvatore's face transforms, his calm façade cracking into something primal and terrifying.
Before I can react, his hand flies across the space between us, connecting with my cheek with such force that my head snaps sideways and hits the concrete wall.
Stars burst behind my eyes. Pain radiates through my skull.
"You think I'm playing games?" he roars, standing over me now. "Your father may be Don, but even he can't protect you anymore! None of them can. Not even your precious Roman. Why that motherfucker didn’t kill you when Agent Ricci contacted you, I’ll never know."
The room spins, but I force myself to look up at him. “You know Agent Ricci?”
“No, you don’t ask the questions. I do.”
“You can keep asking… keep hitting me, but it won't change the truth. I don't know anything about Ernie or what my mother was planning."
He grabs my hair, yanking my head back. "Everyone has a breaking point, Isabella. Even you."
I stare directly into his eyes, channeling every ounce of Roman's strength that I've witnessed. “You think I know something that can compromise you.”
His grip tightens, but I don't flinch.
"But if I did know anything that would help me understand why my mother died, don't you think I would have used it by now?"
Something flickers in his eyes, doubt, maybe. He releases my hair with a shove.
"Roman won't come for you," he says, his voice cold again. "He's loyal to La Corona first. Always has been."
He might be right, but I also know Roman's family loyalty extends to Angelica, and I think to an extent, me.
I'm not dead yet because of him.
Because he’s protected me.
“What do you think I know?”
He looks at me like I’ve gone mad for asking such a question.
“You’re going to kill me anyway, right? I’d like to know why my mother died. Who killed her?”
His smile is sinister, like he’s going to enjoy explaining in great detail how my mother died.
"What were you planning?" I ask, bracing myself for what he might say.
Salvatore laughs, a hollow sound that sends chills down my spine. "A new order. La Corona has four heads, but it only needs one. The strongest one."
I think of my father, of Marco Calabresi, Dominic Vitale, and Antonio Monti, the four heads of La Corona. The implications are staggering.
This wasn't just about my mother.
It’s been about dismantling the entire power structure that's held the families together for generations.
"My mother found out about that so you killed her?”
His eyes narrow. "Ernie panicked. Said she was going to expose everything to La Corona. We couldn't let that happen."
My heart pounds against my ribs. This is it, the confession I've been seeking for a year.
