Page 123 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride

"We discuss children and recipes," I reply coldly. "Not family business."

"Elena trusts you," Ricci presses. "She's shared things with you about the families."

I think of Elena's kindness, her warning about the men of La Corona. The way she's been the only one to truly welcome me. The thought of betraying that nascent friendship makes me sick.

“She doesn’t know any more about business than I do. Really, Agent Ricci, you should know that women are kept out of that.” I glance at Angelica, who's now watching us curiously. "You should leave. Now."

"Your mother would be disappointed," Ricci says quietly. "She risked everything to protect you from this life."

The mention of my mother sends a spike of anger through me.

I glare at Agent Ricci, a cold fury replacing my fear.

The audacity of this woman to use my mother's death, my deepest wound, as leverage.

"How dare you," I hiss. "You sit here and dangle my dead mother's memories like bait? You think I'm that desperate?"

Ricci's expression falters slightly.

"My mother would be disappointed?" I lean forward. "You didn't know her. You have no right to speak for her. I've spent a year trying to find out what happened to her, and all that time the FBI has been holding her notebook? And now you want to trade it for information that could get people killed?"

I shake my head in disgust. "I won't be your pawn. I won't be Blackwood's pawn. And I certainly won't betray the only person who's shown me genuine kindness since I got caught up in your scheme.”

Ricci purses her lips at me. “Mrs. Ginetti?—”

"You people claim to be better than the Mafia," I say, my voice quiet but cutting. "But at least they're honest about who they are. You hide behind badges while using the same tactics. Mymother's death isn't a bargaining chip. I shouldn’t have to risk my life doing your job to get justice for my mother."

Something shifts in her expression. A flicker of shame, perhaps. She reaches into her satchel and places a small package on the table. "You're right. This belongs to you."

I stare at the package wondering what it is. It probably has some sort of recording or tracking device.

"It's a copy of your mother’s notebook. No strings attached."

I hesitate, certain there's a catch. "Why?"

"Because you're right." Ricci stands, adjusting her scarf. "Some lines shouldn't be crossed, even in our line of work."

She walks away without another word.

I clutch the package tightly as we exit the bakery. Angelica skips beside me, oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside me.

"Who was that lady you were talking to?"

My stomach tightens. "Just someone who thought she knew me." I squeeze her hand. "Let's hurry home. It's getting cold."

The entire car ride back, the package taunts me. Part of me wants to tear it open immediately, yet another part wants to throw it into the East River, afraid of what I might learn.

Was my father a part of my mother’s death?

Was Roman?

I feel like reading it will change everything, and right now, everything is good.

Back at the apartment, Mrs. Rossi takes Angelica to wash up before dinner. I lock myself in the bedroom, hands trembling as I finally unwrap the package. Inside, I find a folder filled with copied pages from my mother’s notebook.

I read the first page, her elegant handwriting filling the lines.

October 3 - E approached me today. Claims he can help Isabella escape this life. Says he has FBI connections. Don't trust him, but running out of options. Leo won't budge on the arrangement.