Page 82 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride

ISABELLA

I jolt awake to Roman's massive frame looming over me, his eyes dark with fury.

The mattress dips under his weight as he braces one arm beside my head. My heart hammers against my ribs.

"You've been lying to me this whole time." His voice is deceptively quiet, controlled, the way he gets before violence. "Using me."

I push myself back against the headboard, but it doesn’t create any space between us. I have nowhere to run. "What are you talking about?"

"The phone, Isabella. The one that woman handed you at the fabric store. The one you've been hiding."

My mouth goes dry. How did he know? I'd been so careful. "I don't… I wasn't…" The words tangle in my throat.

"Don't lie to me!" His palm slams against the headboard beside me, making me flinch. "I heard everything, Isabella. Every. Damn. Word."

The reality crashes down on me. He's been monitoring me somehow. The thought makes me feel violated, exposed.

"You were spying on me?"

He laughs derisively. “You knew the score when you chose to marry me instead of…” He lets my alternative, death, hang. “It’s my job to know what the fuck you’re up to. But like an idiot…” He pushes off the bed and paces, seething.

I use the opportunity to move to the other side of the bed. He whips around. "After everything. After I promised to help you find the truth about your mother. After I took you to my bed."

"You had no right to spy on me," I whisper, anger momentarily overriding my fear.

Roman shakes his head. "I had every right. Your actions threaten my daughter. When it comes to her, I have every right to do whatever the fuck I want to do to you."

God, he's going to kill me.

"You're working with the people trying to destroy my family."

"I told him no!" I protest. "If you were listening in, you heard me. I told Blackwood I couldn't do it anymore."

“But you didn’t tell me.” His eyes narrow. "What else haven't you told me?"

I shake my head frantically. "Nothing! I swear I don't know anything else."

I swallow hard, staring up at Roman's unforgiving face. This isn't the man who touched me so tenderly just days ago. This is the enforcer, the killer who's made men disappear without a trace.

"You come clean to me now, Isabella. Everything." His voice drops to a deadly whisper. "Or all bets are off. You become my prisoner, and I sure as hell will keep you away from Angelica."

The mention of his daughter makes my stomach twist. In just days, I've grown fond of the little girl with her fierce independence and creative spirit.

The dress I'm making for her is half-finished on my sewing table.

"Roman, please?—"

"Now." The word slices through the air, cutting me off.

Panic rises. I'm completely at his mercy if he decides I'm a threat. But honestly, I don’t know what he’s asking me. There’s nothing else I’ve kept a secret.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I whisper, voice trembling. "The phone was the only thing I was keeping from you. I swear."

"What about Ernie Abruzzo?" Roman demands, his voice sharp.

The name means nothing to me. I blink in confusion, desperately trying to place it. "Ernie Abruzzo? I don't—who is that?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Isabella."