Page 419 of Rosetti Family New York
"No." I lean forward, hands flat on the table. "Every hour we wait, he gets closer to pulling this off. We hit him now, before he can spring the trap."
"It's suicide," Leo says. "He'll be expecting us."
"Maybe. But he won't be expecting all of us." I look around the table, meeting each of their eyes. "This stops tonight."
The door opens, and Isabella steps inside. She's wearing the cream cashmere sweater Besiana lent her, dark jeans that hug her curves. Her hair is pulled back, revealing the elegant line of her neck. But it's her eyes that stop me cold. There's something hollow there, something distant that makes my chest tight.
"Sorry," she says quietly. "I didn't know you were meeting."
Dom starts to stand, probably to escort her out, but I catch his eye and shake my head. She's part of this now, whether we like it or not. Whether she knows it or not.
"It's fine," I say. "Come in."
She moves to the window, wrapping her arms around herself. Even across the room, I can feel her pulling away. Retreating behind those perfect walls she's spent years building. I want to go to her, pull her against me, make her look at me instead of through me.
"What's the plan?" she asks, not turning around.
"We're going after Chase," Dom says carefully. "Tonight."
She nods once, like she expected this. Like she's already accepted whatever comes next. The casual resignation in her posture makes something violent unfurl in my chest.
"I'm coming with you."
The room goes silent. Even the air seems to stop moving.
"Absolutely not," Dom says.
"It's not a request." She turns to face us, and there's steel in her voice that reminds me why I fell for her in the first place. "He won't expect me. That gives you an advantage."
"You're not bait," I say quietly. The words come out rougher than I intended.
"No." She meets my eyes, and for a moment I see through the cracks to the woman underneath. Fierce. Determined. Broken but not beaten. "I'm the blade."
The silence stretches until Rafe clears his throat. "She has a point. Chase thinks she's compromised, that we've turned her. Seeing her might throw him off balance."
Every instinct I have screams against it. The thought of Isabella anywhere near that warehouse, near Chase and his sick games, makes my hands shake with the need to lock her in a room where she'll be safe.
But I look at her face, see the way her jaw is set, the determination in her green eyes. This is her choice. Her fight. And denying her that might be the thing that finally breaks her completely.
"Fine," I say. "But you stay close to me. You don't move unless I tell you to move."
She nods, and I catch the faintest smile ghosting across her lips. It's the first real expression I've seen from her in days.
The meeting breaks up twenty minutes later. Plans made, weapons distributed, the machinery of war grinding into motion. Dom and Leo head out to prep the vehicles. Rafe disappears to coordinate with our security team.
Isabella and I are alone.
She's still standing by the window, staring out at the city lights. The cashmere sweater clings to her shoulders, and I can see the tension in the way she holds herself. Like she's afraid she might fall apart if she relaxes for even a second.
"Talk to me," I say quietly.
"About what?"
"About whatever's going on in your head that's making you look at me like I'm a stranger."
She doesn't answer immediately. Just stands there, arms wrapped around herself like she's holding the pieces together by force.
"I brought you intel that could save your family," she says finally. "And all I can think about is how I lived with my parents' killer for fourteen years. How I was grateful to him."
