Chapter 2 #2
"Think about it, Isabella. As Ginetti's wife, you'd have unprecedented access. The inner circle of the Calabresi operation—"
"Are you insane?" I hiss, gripping the phone tightly. "They'll be watching my every move. The first hint that I'm still talking to you and Roman will put a bullet in my head."
"We can take precautions. New protocols. Different methods of communication."
Disbelief turns to anger. "I won't marry him. He works for the people who killed my mother."
"This is the opportunity we've been waiting for," Blackwood presses. "The chance to gather concrete evidence against all four families. Think of what we could accomplish. You said yourself that you want to be free of that life. This is your chance. Your best chance."
"Not if I want to keep living," I snap. "Please. I need your help. I need to disappear before the wedding."
Another long pause. I hold my breath.
"Fine," he finally concedes. "I can arrange for witness protection. That takes some time, but maybe I can hide you until then. Pack only essentials. Nothing traceable."
Relief floods through me. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. Once we do this, there's no going back. Your father, your life, all of it disappears."
"I know." I glance at my mother's photograph. "But I'd rather disappear than marry my mother's murderer."
He tells me where to meet him and we hang up.
I order a ride share and then stuff the last of my essentials into my bag.
I check my watch. I have an hour to get to lower Manhattan.
I feel exhilarated, even as I’m terrified. Freedom is within my grasp.
But death looms if I fail.
I unlock and ease my bedroom door open, wincing at the slight squeak.
I hurry down the hall toward the back staircase used only by servants.
It’s after dinner, so most should be in the kitchen or other parts of the house.
I sneak down and after looking toward the kitchen, I hurry the other direction down the hall toward the service elevator.
The ride down seems to take forever, but finally, I’m exiting the building.
Keeping to the shadows, I skirt the perimeter of the building, avoiding the security cameras I know monitor the area.
Three blocks away, I finally allow myself to breathe.
I've done it.
I've escaped.
Agent Blackwood will meet me at the designated location.
I quicken my pace, toward the location I’ve ordered my rideshare to pick me up.
The car arrives just as I do. I hop in, and as it pulls away from the curb, I begin to relax.
Fear begins to morph into elation.
I’m free. Free of my father’s control. Free of the ugliness of Mafia life.
My driver lets me off a block away from the park where Agent Blackwood told me to meet him.
I check my watch and see that I’m a bit early. It’s dark and cold, which is a little scary.
But nearby, I see holiday lights and decorations that make me feel a bit safer.
I reach the park, setting my bag on a bench as I pull my coat around me tighter. My gaze darts around, eager to see Agent Blackwood. Once I do, I’ll finally be able to breathe.
I hear a noise behind me. I whip around, but not before rough hands grab me.
Terror slashes through me, and he yanks me back with one hand, his other hand producing a glint of metal.
"Let me go!" I struggle against his grip, panic rising.
The next moment, the man is wrenched away from me.
“Who sent you?” the second man demands.
The moment of relief is quickly replaced by horror when I recognize Roman Ginetti's imposing figure. His massive frame fills my vision as he grips my attacker by the throat.
I start to back away, not wanting anything to do with either of them.
“You fucking stay close,” Roman growls at me.
I shake my head. Where is Agent Blackwood? He should be here about now.
“Isabella!” Roman barks at me.
Fear rips through me, and I turn to run.
“Fuck!”
I only make it a few steps when large hands grip me, yank me back against a hard wall of man.
"Going somewhere?"
"This doesn't concern you." I struggle against Roman. "Just leave!"
“That’s not happening.” His meaty hand continues to grip my arm like a vise as he turns to look toward where the other man had been.
But he’s long gone now. Roman turns his attention back to me. “Come on.”
He tugs me along the path. Between the attack and Roman showing up, my brain has been haywire, but now it settles on one thought.
I’m dead. Roman is going to kill me.
My survival instinct takes over.
With my free arm, I swing my bag with all my strength. It connects with Roman's shoulder, barely making him flinch.
I thrash against him, kicking at his shins, scratching at any exposed skin I can reach.
"Let me go!" I scream.
Roman absorbs the hit without flinching, but something dangerous flashes in his eyes.
In one fluid motion, he pins me against a tree, one hand gripping both my wrists above my head, the other pressing lightly against my throat, not choking, just holding me in place.
"You really must want to die.” His voice drops to a deadly whisper.
The cold calculation in his eyes makes my blood run cold.
This isn't an empty threat. This is a man who has ended lives without hesitation.
I freeze, the fight draining from me.
"Your father negotiated for your life," Roman continues, his face inches from mine. "Yet here you are, running straight toward your execution."
My heart hammers so loudly I'm sure he can hear it.
I've made a terrible mistake.
Roman is going to kill me.