Chapter 47 Isabella
Isabella
There were at least a dozen cars in the driveway when we returned to the estate. I had a moment to wonder who all of these people were, but given that Amalia and Elio didn’t even flinch, it was easy to figure out.
Damian had gathered all of the men—an assortment of Lorenzo’s cousins and other men from the minor families that worked for him—in the dining room. “He’s going to be fine,” we could hear him reassuring them as we walked into the room. “We’ve been through this before.”
“Elias is with him,” Elio said by way of greeting, drawing everyone’s eyes to us. “He’ll be home in a few hours.”
But it didn’t seem like any of the men were listening. Instead, their eyes landed on me. “This is all her fault,” one man grunted. I recognized him from the storage facility we visited in New Jersey. “The Don had been just fine before she waltzed into our lives.”
Waltzed was a strong word. Kidnapped and held hostage was a better description. “I didn’t say anything to the police.”
Another man stood. “Doesn’t matter if you opened your mouth or not, cagna,” he snarled. “All this comes back to you. If the Don hadn’t rescued that little puttana for you—”
“We would have never known that Alfie was selling his services elsewhere,” Elio jumped in.
“The Russians—”
“Are a problem,” Elio conceded, “but Isabella has nothing to do with that. She’s loyal to Lorenzo.”
“She’s going to bring him down,” the man spat.
“He’s soft on her, and that’s made him soft in everything else.
” He seemed to puff up even more in his anger, and he tried to lunge for me.
Elio caught him, snapping his arm back at an angle that looked painful.
If Elio put even a little more pressure on the man’s limb, he’d pop the shoulder out of its socket.
“Stop,” I called, and Elio looked at me. He didn’t let the man go, but he didn’t pop his shoulder blade out like a buffalo wing either. Hooray, progress. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Why not? He wasn’t going to extend the same courtesy to you, piccolina.”
“I know,” I said. “Even still, let him go.” Elio did what I asked, and I stepped a little farther back, in case he tried to come after me again.
“I know that I’m an outsider,” I said, addressing the men.
“I know that most of you don’t like the fact that I’m here, but I am here, and I would never do anything to actively harm Lorenzo. ”
From the looks on their faces, my words didn’t carry much weight. “The only reason Lorenzo wants you to stay is for the brat in your belly.”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “Or, maybe it’s because I resemble his dead wife. Or, maybe, he actually loves me. What I do know is that Lorenzo wants me here, so much so that he made me his wife.”
“Being his wife won’t keep you safe.”
That actually made me laugh out loud. “His first wife was murdered in their bed. You think I magically forgot about that when I agreed to marry him? But I married him anyway because I want to be with him, everything else be damned.”
It wasn’t enough to convince all of them, but I truly didn’t care. The acceptance of these men was not a priority of mine. I shifted my focus to Damian. “What can we do to get him home?”
“Let Elias do what he’s best at,” he said.
That wasn’t the answer I was looking for. “How good is he? Really?”
“Elias takes care of the Cosa Nostra,” Amalia assured me. “He’s never lost a case before, and I know that he’s faced tougher odds before.”
“Okay,” I sighed out. “Well, would anyone like some coffee? I think I deserve a cup,”
They stared at me, obviously confused, but then a few hands went into the air.
It was enough that I would use both of the carafes on the coffee machine.
I went through the butler’s pantry to the kitchen and put all of my effort into making good coffee.
While it brewed, I got a platter out of the cabinet and loaded it with snacks from the pantry, along with three of the creamers and sugar.
“You don’t have to serve those assholes.” I glanced up but didn’t say anything, just continued to arrange the tray to my liking. “Isabella.”
I shook my head. “I need something to do with my hands.”
Amalia paused for a moment, studying me. And then, she nodded. She understood, and she got out a second platter to load the mugs onto for me. When everything was ready, she picked up the tray of mugs. “Lead the way, bella,” she said.
I did, and once we were back in the dining room, we set the trays up on the side board.
For a moment, no one moved, but then it was like a hive of ants erupting from the ground.
They surrounded the trays, jostling and pushing at one another, and I felt something inside of me settle a little, watching them.
“Taking care of my men, dolcezza?” I turned, and there was Lorenzo, standing in the doorway.
His expression was a mixture of worry and pride.
I let out a gleeful yelp and threw myself at him.
He caught me easily, and the moment I was cradled in his arms, I began to cry.
“I’m all right,” he promised. “I’m fine. ”
“For now,” a new voice said, and I pulled away to look at the man standing just behind my husband. He had to be the lawyer, Elias.
“What do you mean?” I asked, voice thick.
“There’s eyes on the both of you now,” he said. “They’re going to be looking into any and everything to find a way to put Lorenzo away.”
My stomach tried to twist inside out, and I tightened my grip on Lorenzo. “What can we do to make sure that doesn’t happen?”
“We can talk about it later,” Lorenzo said, glaring at the attorney.
“Later?”
Lorenzo tugged me in for a kiss. I resisted for a second—we were in a room full of Lorenzo’s men, after all—but then I melted. I couldn’t help it. We had only been apart for a matter of hours, but it felt like months.
His tongue slipped into my mouth, and a sound eked from my throat. Elio cleared his throat, and Lorenzo pulled back enough to look at him. “Take your wife upstairs, cugino.”