Chapter 25 – Isabella
C ecilia and I were escorted by the underboss and his men back to the don’s house. With the taste of caramel apple on my tongue, it was a battle not to stare at the newest recruit sitting in the front passenger seat.
Has he joined the famiglia? How else would the underboss be allowed to bring Ilya? Whatever this Russian cage fighter thought he was doing, it was stupid. Astronomically stupid!
And I was the silly girl keeping his secret.
I shook my head. Accepting the drink he brought me only encouraged whatever delusions were running through his head. He needed to hear me once and for all that there could be nothing between us.
A shiver rattled down my spine.
“Matteo, turn up the heat. Signorina Rinaldi is cold,” the underboss clipped out.
Cecilia pinched my thigh a heartbeat later.
Anger bubbled inside. It took three breaths to swallow the urge to throw out my arm and smack her. “Thank you, signore,” I breathed. “I appreciate that.”
The underboss grunted and resumed his conversation with the strega. I tuned out the rapid Italian, staring at the avenue of houses. The mass of leaves was cleared off the road, and several of the trees were already bare. Fall was in its final blaze of glory, and winter was coming early.
“It will be tonight, I’m sure of it,” Tullio stated.
Cecilia murmured in agreement. “I’ll come with you when you speak to my brother.”
“Thank you, carina. You always have a way with the don,” the underboss whispered.
My ears pricked at the exchange. That endearment was…intimate. I closed my eyes, hoping they would speak freely, but no such luck. Something tickled in the back of my mind, and I pushed past the strange familiarity to process the actual words.
Tonight, something would be tonight.
Worry gnawed at my belly. The resolve I formed earlier in the week sprang to the foreground. I knew that Gio would likely be sent out again—and the little brat would be eager to prove himself. But I wanted to prevent him going into battle until we could practice shooting and fighting.
Which meant I needed a delay should the Made Men be called to battle again.
Sure enough, as we pulled through the front gate, the sight of soldiers bustling about greeted us. They were planning something. I clenched my jaw tight. This would never have been allowed when my father was the don. Bringing such a large quantity of soldiers to the house would only attract attention from the bougie neighborhood.
But Don Aldo seemed determined to do everything in his power to prove he was not the late leader.
The moment the vehicle stopped before the front stairs, I bolted. Going straight for the second vehicle that had followed us, I instructed the driver to open the trunk.
Amidst the boxes of still unopened gifts, I pulled the white-on-white bakery box. Signora Modesti insisted that I take the cake and enjoy it. Now it was going to be the thing that saved my brother.
A hard pinch on my side pulled skin off bone. “If I catch you eating that cake, you’ll be sorry,” the strega hissed.
I pursed my lips, fighting back a scream. “It was a gift—to me. The bride.”
“And if we had a chance to eat it at the party, you would have had a reason to accept a small piece. Luckily for your diet, you didn’t have to.” Cecilia leaned close. “Give me that, I’ll throw it away so you’re not tempted to eat it. You already exceeded your caloric intake with the finger sandwich.”
“I fed that to the dog,” I snapped, wrenching the cake box away. “And for your information, I wasn’t going to eat the cake. I was going to serve it to the soldiers.”
The strega gave me a calculated look. “Rid the house of sugar. Smart. Maybe you’re not such a simpleton after all.”
I hated her. She was ruining everything. This was the best buttercream in the city! They used real, organic, high-quality butter which made the frosting something I wanted to eat from a jar with a spoon. It would be too risky now to sneak a large slice to my room.
“What are the guys doing here?” I asked, nodding to the groups of mobsters milling about.
“That is none of your business. Go inside and slice the cake, and have the maids serve it on trays. You shouldn’t be seen carrying them. But you may pass out pieces with a smile.” Cecilia prodded me in the spine, hurrying me forward.
Anger bubbled hot and toxic in my chest. I needed to calm down before I snapped and did something I regretted. Already, the assertive tone was bordering on out of character for me.
Through the heated wrath, a prickle formed at the back of my neck. Ilya was close, and as we rounded the vehicle, I caught his form from the corner of my eye. He probably heard the entire exchange.
I clenched my jaw and hurried to escape Cecilia’s grasp.
The pressure inside threatened to crack. It was all too much. Crying hadn’t alleviated the strain. I was in desperate need of a good night’s sleep, but that was out of the question. My stalker was going to get me in trouble. Gio was in constant danger, despite my sacrifices. And the wicked witch was making my life a living hell. At least my fiancé wasn’t cruel. That might have broken me.
No, I had to bear this strain.
I can save Gio today. I would worry about tomorrow and the day after that later.
As I rushed into the house, I felt that glacial gaze following me. I pushed the weight of it back. The man haunting my nights and days would have to wait. This was bigger than him. I might not be able to spare my brother every time, but this time I could.
Once in the kitchen, I began slicing and plating the chocolate cake. The maids were scampering about, making sandwiches and bringing coffee to the soldiers filling our home. Two slices of cake came with me down the hall. Ducking into a room, I pulled off my tweed jacket. In my haste, I popped two buttons on the undershirt. But I managed to reach into the slit I cut in my bra cup. When I’d decided on this course of action, I made sure that I would always have the concoction readily available, so one evening this week, I spent most of the night sewing miniature vials of tonic into the padding of my bras.
I uncorked the twin vials, dumping the tonic on the slices and watching it soak into the fluffy, decadent goodness.
My heart beat wildly in my chest. If the chocolate wasn’t strong enough to mask the poison…. If the two victims didn’t eat enough of the cake…. If the tonic wasn’t concentrated enough, because I hadn’t had a chance to test it…. If…. If….
A long exhale left my lungs. I set my shoulders, took a final look at my handy work, and pushed into the bustling hall.
“There’s cake in the kitchen,” I called cheerily to the first group of soldiers I passed. They grinned, swiveling their heads in the direction.
Cecilia would likely pinch me if she realized I wasn’t serving this properly, but I had to deliver these pieces of cake personally. I pressed forward until I found my brother, who stood next to my fiancé. Perfect! Alonzo would be the second victim to fall sick, seemingly uncoincidental in relation to Gio’s sudden illness. If possible, I would poison two more slices of cake that would randomly be dispersed. But I had to make sure Gio ate his slice first. Making a beeline for the pair, I thrust the plates in their direction.
“It’s from my bridal shower. Take these, and I’ll get more for the men,” I panted.
Alonzo gave me a look that could only be described as fond. “You really are perfect, you know that?”
His praise, strange to hear, sent a rush of warmth through me. My future wouldn’t be so terrible with this young man, who thought the world of me. Kind of like a golden retriever.
But as I watched him eat the cake, something so cold it burned grazed over my skin. I didn’t have to turn to know the Russian fighter was there, lurking on the edge. He was no doubt scowling as he watched the exchange.
Why is he even allowed here? He was an outsider, who they knew nothing about, and it was utterly stupid to allow his participation.
“Time to suit up,” Cosimo sneered behind me. “We’re running surveillance, Gio.”
Relief rushed through me as my brother shoveled the last bite of cake into his mouth. He basically threw the plate at me and took off after Cosimo. I tried not to sigh too loudly.
“I don’t like that guy,” Alonzo said quietly.
I looked at my fiancé, following his gaze which was pinned on the underboss’s son. “Fabrizi junior?”
Alonzo hummed. “He’s the kind who would stab his grandmother and laugh.”
I took Alonzo’s empty plate and couldn’t help but feel that was the most accurate description I’d ever heard in terms of Cosimo. Just as I was about to retreat into the kitchen, my fiancé’s hand shot out and clutched my wrist. It was a quick moment of contact since he dropped his hold a moment later.
“Kiss me for good luck?” Hope shimmered in his eyes.
“Wait, you’re going too?” I breathed.
Alonzo nodded. “My aunt thinks I spend too much time secluded. It looks bad.”
Remembering the conversation from the drive here, unease shivered through me. That was an unforeseen development. To my knowledge, Alonzo hadn’t seen much active duty. He hadn’t gone the other night. In fact, his father kept him out of the field and out of meetings. Why would he be allowed to go today? I wanted to ask him what had changed, why he was suddenly going out to the streets with the other soldiers. But he continued to look at me expectantly.
The kiss.
Conscious of everyone coming and going, I caught my lip between my teeth. It wasn’t any of the Made Men who made me feel suddenly like I was doing something wrong.
It was the spectre of darkness haunting me.
I rose on my tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on Alonzo’s cheek. He didn’t move for something more but only smiled softly.
“You’re such a good girl, Isabella,” he said quietly before turning and leaving. “I’m going to be the luckiest man in the famiglia.”
My own cheeks blazed as I ducked into a side room and wove back to the kitchen. I never made it. The door clapped closed. A shadow launched into me, and I was pushed against another closed door. My cheek pressed against the wood, body caged by a solid force. I gasped, sucking precious air into my lungs and barely keeping my grasp on the dessert plates. Hard fingers dug into my hair. Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden from the pressure on my scalp.
“No cake for me?” Ilya growled.
I coughed. “You’ll thank me later.”
A rough hum rumbled in his chest. “What about a kiss?”
“Someone will find us,” I protested.
“You’re mine, little siren, or do I have to remove every pair of hands in this whole damn city for you to get that through your pretty head?”
The bite in his voice should have scared me. It had the opposite effect. Anger and lust swirled through my veins, an annoying yet inescapable concoction.
“I’m not yours!” I bit out, fingers tightening on the plates. If only I could reach around and smash them over his head!
“You’re not his,” the monster sneered. “Expect a delivery tomorrow to prove it.”
The icy blast of his words slapped back the rush of anger. Fear trickled to freeze the heat.
“Don’t hurt Alonzo!” I breathed, trying and failing to turn my head and look the spectre in the eye.
It was the wrong thing to say. The maniac holding me didn’t need confirmation, but that was exactly what my words implied.
Ilya huffed in disgust. “You do care about him.”
“Of course, I care about him!” I snapped. “Alonzo is like a brother to me. We grew up together and I won’t have anyone bullying him. He isn’t cut out for this life, but that won’t change his destiny. He’s stuck here, just like me. It’s enough that he’s suddenly going out tonight. I won’t have you hurting him too.”
There was a moment of silence. “What are you going to do about it?”
A test. This was just a test. I wet my lips, my brain scrambling for options. “I’ll kiss you.”
The words were a surprise, but not nearly as shocking as the greedy pulse between my legs at the idea.
Ilya barked a laugh. “It will take more than a kiss to save your beloved’s life.”
I jerked against his hold. “I don’t have a choice, you beast. I’m stuck with Alonzo, and he’s the lesser evil here, so forgive me for preserving his wellbeing.”
Ilya loosened his hold, running his hand down the back of my neck. He stopped, his thumb stretching out to rub over my pulse. “You didn’t choose him?”
“No!” I wailed before clapping my lips closed. I huffed forcefully from my nose. “I most certainly did not choose him. But thanks to my cooperation, my brother and I are still alive.”
I’d said too much. This stranger could use that against me. I jerked again, and this time, the spectre let me go.
“I expect a reward for sparing his life tonight,” Ilya rasped. A glint sharpened in his eyes. It gave that otherworldly, silvery effect that no human should possess.
A long exhale made my nostrils flare. I swallowed an angry retort. Angering this monster would be extremely stupid.
Pulling myself straight, I tipped my chin up and held his gaze. “A deal’s a deal. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s more cake to be served.” And more soldiers to be poisoned.
That steely gaze followed me from the space.
Breathing hard, I burst into the kitchen. It was empty. The last tray of cake slices sat on the island. Good! I could poison two more, so there would be no suspicion as to why two men connected personally to me were the ones to fall ill. I flicked a greedy glance at the beautiful slices, wanting so badly to escape whatever feelings crawled around inside my body. Part of it was low blood sugar. A protein shake for breakfast and a hot caramel cider did not give me enough strength to deal with the myriad of problems facing me! I stalked to the sink. I could run fast, hide the slice of cake in the back hall, high on a bookshelf, and take it to my room to enjoy as I planned whatever I would do to reward the monster for sparing my fiancé’s life. The empty plates clattered into the sink just in time before the waspish matron blew into the room.
“There you are,” Cecilia snapped. “Why aren’t you out there, serving cake?”
It took everything I had not to explode. “Waiting for one of the girls to take the tray. You expressly forbade me carrying it to the men.”
Cecilia’s lip puckered tight. She stormed into the hall, calling for one of the maids. It was either poison a plate or steal one for myself.
Apologizing to the gnarled feeling in my stomach, I reached into the other bra cup, removed the small vials, and spread the mixture over three slices, hoping it was strong enough to make more men sick. Alonzo and Gio didn’t need the attention falling solely on them when the poison claimed its victims.
Angelina sailed into the room. Her empty tray clattered on the island. The least friendly of the house staff, she didn’t address me as she picked up the final tray and left. I had just enough time to slip the empty vials into my bra, but not in the secret pouch I created with the lining, and followed the maid, my mask in place and ready to play the role of gracious mafia princess.