Chapter 26 Isabella
ISABELLA
I sit at my sewing table with Angelica as I help her sew a tie for Roman.
It’s not the one I planned to make.
She chose a green fabric with candy canes. It will be a typical hideous dad-tie, but Roman will no doubt love it because Angelica made it.
My stomach lurches again, the third time this morning, but I force a smile and keep my hands steady as I guide her small fingers on the sewing machine.
"Like this?" Angelica asks, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Perfect," I manage, swallowing hard against the wave of nausea. "You're a natural."
The results of the pregnancy test distract me.
A baby. Roman's baby.
The thought sends another roll of queasiness through me that has nothing to do with morning sickness.
"Can we make something else?" Angelica looks up at me with those big eyes, so much like Roman's.
"What did you have in mind?" I ask, grateful for the distraction.
"A Christmas stocking with our names on it. Yours, mine, and Daddy's."
A family stocking, as if we're actually a real family and not some bizarre arrangement.
"That's a wonderful idea," I say.
I reach for another piece of fabric, but the movement sends my head spinning. I close my eyes, counting slowly to ten, willing the nausea to pass.
"Are you sick?" Angelica asks, her voice small and worried.
"Just tired." I open my eyes and force brightness into my voice. "Let's pick out the colors for our stocking."
She seems satisfied with my answer and begins sorting through fabric scraps with renewed enthusiasm.
A sharp knock at the door makes me jump. "Wait here," I tell Angelica as I rise to get the door. "Pick out the fabric you want for the stocking."
I move to the door. The peephole shows a distorted fish-eye view of the hallway outside, but I’m able to still make out who is there.
Salvatore.
His square jaw is set in a hard line. Behind him is another man I recognize as one of his crew. They're speaking in low voices.
"Roman's not here," Salvatore mutters. "Perfect timing."
"What about the kid?" Vito asks.
"We take care of the wife first. The kid won't be a problem."
My hand flies to my mouth to stifle a gasp. They're here for me. And with Angelica in the apartment…
"We handle this quietly," Salvatore continues. "Make it look like she ran. No mess."
I back away from the door, mind racing. Mrs. Rossi is gone. I need to find a phone to call Roman.
Another knock, harder this time. The doorknob rattles.
"Isabella, open up," Salvatore calls, his voice falsely pleasant. "I need to talk to you about Roman."
I look around frantically. Phone. I need a phone. But even if I call Roman, he'll never make it in time.
Salvatore knocks again, the sound echoing through the apartment like gunshots.
I run to the bedroom, my heart hammering so hard I can barely breathe.
"What's happening?" Angelica’s eyes widen with fear.
"Listen to me," I say, kneeling to her level. "Some bad men are at the door. You need to hide."
Her bottom lip trembles. "I'm scared."
"I know, sweetheart." I smooth her hair back, trying to keep my voice steady. "But you're so brave, just like your daddy. Can you be brave for me?"
She nods, tears welling in her eyes. I snatch my mother's notebook from the dresser and shove it under the mattress, hands shaking so badly I nearly drop it.
Muted gunshots sound and I hear the door open.
“Under the bed,” I urge her. “Stay very quiet. Don't come out until your daddy or Mrs. Rossi comes to find you. No matter what you hear, stay hidden."
I help her crawl under the bed, pushing her back against the wall, her eyes huge in her pale face.
"Where will you be?” she whispers.
“Stay quiet. Okay?” I rush to the bedroom door to lock it, but it explodes inward with such force that I'm thrown back, sprawling onto the carpet.
Pain shoots through my shoulder as I hit the floor.
"There you are," Salvatore says, filling the doorway.
I scramble backward, my gaze darting to the bed where Angelica is hidden. "What do you want?"
Salvatore steps into the room, his henchman close behind him. "Seems you've become too much of a liability."
"Roman will kill you for this.”
Salvatore laughs. "Roman's busy. By the time he gets home, we'll be long gone.”
My eyes flick involuntarily to the space under the bed again. Angelica has pressed herself so far back, she's almost invisible in the shadows, but if they look closely—
Salvatore grabs my arm, yanking me off the floor with bruising force.
My shoulder screams in pain, but I bite back a cry, terrified of drawing Angelica's attention.
"What did you tell the Feds?" he snarls, his face inches from mine. His breath smells of cigarettes and coffee.
"Nothing," I gasp. "I swear, I didn't tell them anything."
"Liar." His hand cracks across my face so hard my vision blurs. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. "We saw you with that agent. What did you give her?"
I stumble backward, my hand instinctively going to my stomach. My baby. Roman's baby. "I didn't give her anything. She approached me, but I turned her away."
Salvatore laughs, a cold, mirthless sound. "Sure you did." His grip tightens on my arm. "Last chance. What did you tell the Feds?"
I think of Angelica under the bed, of the tiny life growing inside me. I have to keep them safe, even if it means sacrificing myself.
"Nothing," I repeat, meeting his gaze.
His hand connects with my face again. My head whips back, and I drop to the bed, gasping, terror flooding through me. "Stop. Please."
"Wrong answer," Salvatore growls, grabbing my arm and dragging me up again.
My head still rings from his blow, but I force myself to stay focused to protect Angelica.
"Where's the kid and the maid?" Salvatore demands, his voice low and dangerous.
I swallow hard, tasting blood. "They're out. They won't be back until later."
Salvatore studies my face. I hold his gaze, hoping he believes me.
"Check the place," he barks at his partner. "Make sure they're not here."
He nods and disappears into the hallway. I hear doors opening, closets being searched.
"The papers," Salvatore hisses, shaking me. "What did the Fed give you?"
"Nothing," I gasp. "They were trying to trick me with fake information about my mother. I threw them away."
His eyes narrow. "You expect me to believe that?"
"It's the truth." I force conviction into my voice. "Why would I keep anything that could endanger my family? Roman is my husband now."
Salvatore's grip tightens painfully. "Your loyalty is touching. Too bad I don’t believe a single thing you’re saying."
Heavy footsteps approach, and the other man appears in the doorway. "Place is empty. No sign of the kid or the maid."
Relief floods through me, but I keep my expression neutral. They didn't check under the bed. Thank God.
"Good," Salvatore says. "Let's move. We need to be gone before Roman gets back."
I close my eyes briefly, sending up a silent prayer. Angelica is safe. For now.
Salvatore yanks me toward the door, his fingers digging into my arm. "You're coming with us. One sound, one wrong move, and I'll kill you right here."
"I understand, Salvatore."
"Smart girl," Salvatore sneers. "Keep it that way."
He drags me through the apartment, past the front door with bullet holes and a splintered door jamb.
I stumble on the threshold, and he jerks me upright, sending pain shooting through my shoulder again.
"Please. I’m cooperating.”
"Shut up," Salvatore hisses, checking the hallway. "Clear."
They hustle me toward the service elevator, away from the main lobby where someone might see us. My mind races frantically. Should I scream? Fight?
"Remember," Salvatore breathes in my ear as we wait for the elevator, "one sound and I put a bullet in your head. Roman will find pieces of you."
The elevator doors slide open. They push me inside, Salvatore's hand clamped over my mouth, his gun pressed against my ribs.
We exit through the service entrance, emerging into the cold December air. A black van waits in the alley, engine running. My legs go weak at the sight of it.
"Move," Salvatore orders, shoving me forward.
The van's side door slides open. Rough hands grab me, pulling me inside. I land hard on the metal floor, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.
"Tie her up," Salvatore orders, climbing in after me.
Someone grabs my wrists, binding them tightly with zip ties that bite into my skin. Another set of hands secures my ankles.
"Gag her," Salvatore says, and a cloth is forced between my teeth, tied tightly behind my head.
The van lurches forward, tires squealing as it pulls away from the curb. I lie on the cold metal floor, my body jolting with every bump and turn.
Angelica is safe, I tell myself. That's what matters. Roman will find her.
He'll know I didn't run.
That I’m not betraying him or La Corona.
Then it comes to me. I’m not betraying him or La Corona, but they could be betraying me.
Salvatore is a Calabresi captain.
He wouldn’t do this without orders, right? Did Marco… La Corona decide I was too much a liability?
Does Roman know?
Is that why he’s gone?
He couldn’t do the deed himself, so they sent Salvatore.
A part of me doubts that. Roman wouldn’t agree to their getting me while Angelica was home, leaving her alone.
So maybe he doesn’t know.
When he finds out, will he care? It won’t be like losing Emilia.
I can at least have some solace in knowing that he won’t know that in my death, he’s also lost a child.