Chapter 4 #2
"I… don't, actually." I feel a strange pang of inadequacy at this admission.
Angelica nods, as if confirming her worst suspicions. "Daddy makes the best ones. With extra chips."
"Maybe you could teach me sometime?" I offer, unsure why I suddenly care what this small, skeptical person thinks of me.
She shrugs, noncommittal.
I have a strange unease settling in my stomach. A fear of rejection, of failing at a role I never asked for but suddenly find myself desperate not to botch.
"I'll let you settle in while I put Angelica to bed.”
“Come on, Angelica, let’s get your PJs on.” Mrs. Rossi excuses herself, taking Angelica’s hand and leading her away, leaving me alone with him in the room Roman said was ours.
"I'm not sharing a bed with you," I announce. I hate that I’m so scared of what he might expect of me tonight. I’m not against sex. I’d like to have it someday.
Just not with him.
Not like this.
Roman's eyebrows lift slightly, but he doesn't seem surprised or particularly bothered. He moves to a closet, pulls out a plush blanket, and tosses it onto a nearby chair.
"The couch is comfortable enough," he says with a casual shrug.
I’m a little surprised he isn’t telling me I have no power here. That I’ll sleep where he tells me to sleep.
“But don’t think about leaving.” Now I see the darkness in his eyes. “I won’t force myself upon you. I won’t ask you to be a mother to my child. I won’t ask you to do anything except to not fuck this up.”
My heart hammers as it’s brought home again that I’m married to the man who has permission to kill me if he deems it necessary.
"Why am I even alive?" The question bursts from me. "Why the marriage charade instead of just…" I can't finish the sentence.
He tilts his head, studying me. "Your father sits on La Corona.
That's the only reason you're standing here instead of buried in the woods.
" He says it matter-of-factly, without malice or threat, which somehow makes it more terrifying. "This arrangement is out of respect for him. But it only goes so far. If you respect your father, you’ll adhere to the rules.”
“Daddy!” Angelica’s voice carries down the hall to the bedroom.
“Excuse me. I’m going to tuck Angelica into bed.”
The door clicks shut behind Roman, and I'm finally alone. But the tension and anxiety don’t wane.
I'm married to a Calabresi enforcer, surrounded by the very people who took my mother from me.
I pace the room. I need to breathe, to think. I can’t stay here. I have to find a way out.
I go to my bag, and digging deep, I pull out a small pouch. It has tampons, a decoy for what is really hiding here, my burner phone. I extract it, checking the door once more before powering it on.
No missed calls. No messages. Nothing from Agent Blackwood since our failed meeting three nights ago.
I want to know where he was, why he didn’t meet me, but that’s not the most pressing issue right now.
I type a quick message.
Married now. Inside Ginetti's home. Need extraction plan.
The message sends, but there's no immediate response. I chew my lower lip, anxiety building.
Where is he?
The FBI agent promised he'd help me escape if the situation became dangerous. Well, being married to my mother's potential killer certainly qualifies.
But if he killed my mother, why isn’t he killing me?
My infraction has to be greater than whatever my mother did. Unless her death was to send my father a message, but if it was, he didn’t get it.
He doesn’t believe Don Calabresi ordered my mother’s murder.
For a moment, I allow myself to consider the impossible.
What if Roman isn't what I thought?
The gentle way he handled our kiss, how he softens around Angelica, his agreement to leave me alone as long as I behave.
No. I can't afford doubt. Not now.
Agent Blackwood showed me the evidence. It’s too compelling not to believe that Don Calabresi had my mother killed. And when he wanted someone dead, Roman was the one who took care of it.
I type another message.
Why aren't you responding? I'm trapped here.
The silence from my only ally makes me feel alone in the world.
Without Blackwood's guidance, I'm adrift in a house belonging to a man who could decide my fate with a single word to his Don.
I hear Angelica's laughter from down the hall, followed by Roman's deeper voice.
They sound… normal. Happy, even.
It's jarring against everything I believe about the man.
The phone buzzes in my hand, startling me. Finally, a response from Agent Blackwood.
Stay put. Continue gathering intel. Will contact with extraction plan soon.
My fingers fly across the tiny keyboard.
Not good enough. I need out NOW.
I hit Send, heart pounding in my chest. The response comes almost immediately.
No one else has gotten this close to the Calabresi inner circle. Think about justice for your mother.
Tears of frustration burn my eyes. He doesn't understand.
This isn't just some undercover assignment. This is my life.
I've been handed over to a killer, forced to marry him, expected to live under his roof.
They'll kill me if they find out. Roman will—
The bedroom door swings open without warning. I gasp, fumbling to hide the phone, but it's too late.
Roman stands in the doorway, his expression shifting from neutral to dangerously still as he takes in the scene.
Me, frozen in place, the burner phone clutched in my hand.
"Who are you texting, Isabella?" His voice is quiet, controlled, but there's an undercurrent of something lethal that makes my blood run cold.
"I…" My mind races for a plausible lie, but nothing comes. The evidence is literally in my hand.
Roman crosses the room in three long strides. I back up until my legs hit the edge of the bed. He holds out his hand, palm up. A silent command.
If I refuse, he'll take it by force.
If I run, where would I go?
If I scream, who would help me?
I have no options.
Tonight, my wedding night, is the night I die.