Chapter 9 Roman #2
But I had another reason for bringing her out into the world. I wanted to know if she was being watched, by whom, and if anyone would make contact.
My phone rang right on time, and I excused myself to take it but watched Isabella from the side as a woman approached her, mid-thirties, brown hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, nondescript clothing.
Professional. Unmemorable.
Except I never forget a face, and she moved with the practiced awareness of someone trained to blend in.
I pretended to be absorbed in my call while watching their interaction.
The handoff was smooth, a small burner phone.
Irritation flared that she’d be so fucking bold as to betray us when we’d given her a chance to live.
Except, Isabella's surprise was genuine. She hadn't expected the contact.
"Call Blackwood when it’s safe. Keep this hidden." So the FBI was still wanting to use her. Of course they would.
"When can I get out?" Isabella asked, taking the phone. "I need witness protection."
Out. She wants out. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, and yet, La Corona bent over backward to protect her when they normally would have killed her.
I’d married her, for Christ’s sake. And this is how she repays us?
"That's not how this works. Blackwood needs you right where you are,” the woman had said.
Then she disappeared, but not before I snapped a photo of her. It sits in a secure folder on my phone.
Another piece in the puzzle of whatever game Blackwood is playing with Isabella, with all of us.
I considered confiscating Isabella’s new phone right then. And later, when she wasn’t paying attention, I took it and cloned it.
But I decided to see what she’d do.
She didn’t tell me about the phone, but she did share the evidence she had against Marco.
For a moment, I consider that Marco could be involved in Isabella's mother's death.
The thought sickens me.
Marco has been my brother in all but blood since we were kids. I've killed for him, bled for him, trusted him with everything, including my life and Angelica's future.
But I'm not blind to how this world works.
La Corona maintains peace through strength. Through fear. Through swift, merciless action against those who threaten the balance.
If Isabella's mother discovered something she shouldn't have, if she threatened to go to authorities…
And yet, Isabella was caught talking to the Feds and instead of killing her, they married her off to me.
So no, Marco wouldn't have killed a member of La Corona’s wife.
Besides, I've handled every significant hit for the Calabresi family since I became his right hand.
If he’d wanted Isabella’s mother dead, he’d have asked me to do it.
Unless he knew I'd object.
The Mafia code is clear.
Family above all else.
La Corona above individual families.
The greater good above personal feelings.
If Marco did this, he had his reasons. If I discover those reasons, my loyalty demands that I protect him, even from Isabella's quest for justice.
But if Marco betrayed the Ferraza family by killing one of their own without La Corona’s approval, it would shatter the foundation of La Corona.
And if I help Isabella expose this truth, if it is the truth, I become a traitor to my own family.
There are no good choices here. Only bloody ones.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to check the alert. It's a notification from Isabella’s burner phone. My gut tightens as I realize she's using it. Right now.
My fingers move quickly across my phone screen, activating the recording feature I'd connected to the burner.
"…need more than that, Isabella." A man's voice, Blackwood, I assume, says. "The Calabresi financial records would be ideal. Roman must have access to them."
"I told you, I'm not sure I want to do this anymore." Isabella's voice is low, uncertain.
"Listen to me," Blackwood continues, his tone softening to something almost paternal. "We're close to bringing down La Corona. Your mother would want justice, not just for her death, but for all the lives these families have destroyed."
There's a pause, and my breath holds as I wait for her response.
The silence stretches between them, filled with the weight of her decision.
My hand tightens around my phone, every muscle in my body tense as I wait.
"I need more time," she finally says, and anger and something that feels like disappointment fill me.
"Time is running out," Blackwood warns. "If you can't get me what I need, I'll have to pursue other avenues. And I won't be able to protect you when everything comes crashing down."
The threat is thinly veiled, and white-hot anger courses through me.
This Fed is threatening my wife. My wife who is betraying me.
She’s quiet for long moments again. "I appreciate everything you've done to help me, but I think… I think I need to find another way to get to the truth."
It takes a moment for her words to register. She’s backing out.
"Another way?" Blackwood's voice sharpens. "What does that mean?"
"It means I'm not comfortable with this anymore." There's a new resolve in Isabella's tone. "I think there's more to this situation than what you've told me."
My breath catches. She's choosing to trust me, or at least to question Blackwood's narrative.
In the middle of all this chaos, with her life hanging in the balance, she's choosing to see beyond what she's been told about me, about my family.
"Isabella, don't be naive," Blackwood warns. "These men are killers. They've manipulated people far more experienced than you."
"Maybe," she concedes, "but I need to figure this out my way now."
"You're making a mistake," he says, his voice hardening. "One that could cost you everything."
"I'll contact you if I change my mind," Isabella says firmly. "Goodbye, Agent Blackwood."
The call ends, and I stand frozen in my office, processing what I've just heard. Isabella chose to step back from Blackwood's manipulation.
I should feel triumphant.
This is exactly what I needed, confirmation of her FBI contact, evidence of her pulling away from him.
But instead, what fills me is pride in her strength, her willingness to seek truth on her own terms.
And beneath that, something even more dangerous.
Affection. Trust.