Chapter 28 Isabella
ISABELLA
The darkness is absolute. I can't tell if my eyes are open or closed as I huddle on a cot against what feels like a concrete wall.
My wrists burn from the zip ties cutting into my skin, and the metallic taste of blood lingers in my mouth from where Salvatore struck me.
God, I hope Angelica is safe.
Surely, Roman is home now.
I wrap my arms around my stomach protectively, a new instinct I didn't have before today.
A baby.
The idea of a baby, of a family with Roman, seems impossible in this darkness, like a dream I had in another life.
The van ride was brutal, every bump and turn sending me sliding across the metal floor. Salvatore kept asking about the papers, about what I told the FBI. When I wouldn't answer, he'd hit me again.
"I threw the papers away." I'd spat at him. One thing for sure is that those papers have something in them Salvatore doesn’t want anyone to see.
Hopefully, Roman will find them and figure out what. The question is, will it be in time to save me?
I think back to Roman’s lessons in self-defense.
I didn’t even try one move.
Of course, I might have if I weren’t worried about Angelica. But I doubt I’d have landed any sort of punch.
The darkness shifts as a door creaks open, letting in a sliver of harsh light that makes me squint.
A silhouette fills the doorway, broad-shouldered and menacing.
Salvatore.
He flicks on a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, its weak yellow light revealing a concrete room with nothing but a metal table and chair in the corner.
His face is calm, almost bored, as he drags the chair across the floor with a screech.
"Let's try this again," he says, sitting down and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Your mother and Ernie Abruzzo. What did she tell you about him?"
My mouth goes dry. "Nothing. I told you, I don't know any Ernie."
He sighs like I'm a disappointing student. "Isabella, Isabella. Your mother was meeting with him for weeks before she died. You expect me to believe she never mentioned him?"
"My mother didn't discuss her affairs with me."
"Nothing about wanting to get you away from the family? Nothing about her little plan with Ernie?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I insist, pressing my back harder against the wall. "If my mother knew this Ernie person, she never told me about him."
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 facade 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.
“So Ernie killed my mother?” My brow furrows. “And made it look like the Calebresis did it.”
He shrugs. “Why not sow seeds of discord?”
“Did you kill Ernie?”
Salvatore’s scowl darkens. “I’d never kill my own blood. No, that was your father. I’m sure of it.”
Maybe it’s all the hits to my head, but that story isn’t making sense. “Why? If my father knew what my mother planned or knew Ernie killed her, he’d have told the other Dons.”
He leans in close. “Drug OD is your father’s MO.”
“Ernie killed my mother using someone else’s MO. Isn’t it possible someone killed your brother and framed my father?”
Salvatore pauses as if he’s considering. His face contorts. “Mother fucker.”
I don’t know what he’s thinking, and based on his expression, I’m too afraid to ask.
He sniffs and tilts his head from side to side until his neck cracks. Then he turns his deadly gaze on me. “Whether your father killed Ernie or not, La Corona has to go. Once I'm done with you, Leo is next. Or maybe Roman. Should I let you choose?"
Cold fear runs through my veins. I have to be strong. My mother died protecting La Corona from him. She was brave, just as I need to be now. "La Corona won't let you get away with this.”
"La Corona is already falling apart," he replies with chilling confidence. "And you, Isabella, have helped."
"You won't win. Roman will figure it out. He's been putting the pieces together already."
A flicker of doubt crosses Salvatore's face before hardening into rage. "Roman is loyal to Marco. He won't risk everything for you."
But I know better. Roman may be loyal to Marco, but he's also a man who protects what's his. And whether he loves me or not, I am his wife.
Salvatore checks his watch impatiently. "I'm done with this conversation."
He gestures sharply to his henchman who's been standing silently in the corner. The man steps forward, and I notice he's holding a syringe filled with clear liquid.
My heart lurches violently against my ribs. "What is that?" I demand, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.
"Just something to make you more cooperative," Salvatore says with chilling casualness.
Panic surges through me as the henchman approaches. I try to scramble away, but my bound hands make it impossible to move. My back hits the wall. There's nowhere to go.
"Please," I gasp, hating the weakness in my voice but unable to stop it. "I'm pregnant."
Salvatore's eyes widen slightly, then he laughs. “Of course you are. Deep down, Roman is a pussy.”
He nods to his henchman who grabs my arm, pushing up my sleeve.
I struggle with every ounce of strength I have left, kicking and twisting, but my body feels increasingly heavy, my movements sluggish from the earlier beating.
"Roman will kill you for this," I manage to say.
“He can try.”
The needle hovers over my skin. The cold sting of the needle pierces my skin. My muscles tense, then begin to relax against my will as whatever drug Salvatore injected spreads through my veins.
"No," I try to say, but my mouth feels stuffed with cotton, my tongue heavy and uncooperative. The concrete room begins to swim, walls melting into floors.
Salvatore's face looms over me, then doubles, then triples.
My thoughts scatter. I try to hold onto them, to stay present.
Try to think of good things. Roman. Angelica. Our baby.
But the thoughts slip away.
The darkness is pulling me under now. I’m powerless to fight it. The last coherent thought I have is of Roman.
His strength, his protection, his unexpected tenderness.
My consciousness fractures, dissolving into darkness.