Page 88 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride

And Marco would have told me.

Which brings me back to Blackwood. I've never met him, but I know his type.

Self-righteous. Ambitious. Dangerous.

What's his angle in all this? Did he approach Mrs. Ferraza before her death, maybe through Ernie, and turn her into an informant too?

Or did he only enter the picture afterward, using her murder as leverage to manipulate Isabella?

If he was involved before, that would explain why Mrs. Ferraza was meeting with Ernie.

Maybe she was gathering information to trade for protection.

For a way out for herself and Isabella.

But if Blackwood only showed up after her death, then who killed her? Who made it look like a Calabresi hit?

And what is his game? Sure, he wants to rid the city of people like me, but how far will he go?

The bastard is clearly using Isabella, feeding her just enough "evidence" to keep her on the hook while ensuring she stays right where he wants her, in the heart of La Corona.

I'm still staring at my notes when the door to my office opens. Isabella stands in the doorway, her face pale but composed.

She looks younger. More vulnerable.

And yet there's defiance in the set of her jaw, in the way she meets my gaze without flinching.

"Here." She steps forward and places the phone on my desk. "Take it."

I don't move to pick it up. "Why now?"

"Because you're right. I can't have it both ways."

I lean back in my chair, studying her. "What changed your mind?"

"Nothing changed. I just…" She exhales in frustration. "I never had choices, Roman. Not real ones. My entire life has been decided for me. Who I could be friends with. What I could study. Who I would marry." She gestures between us. "This wasn't my choice either."

"We all have choices, Isabella." I keep my voice hard, unwilling to let her vulnerability sway me again. "You chose to work with Blackwood. You chose to keep this phone hidden."

"And now I'm choosing to give it to you. But don't pretend I have the same freedom you do."

I push away from my desk, standing to face her. "You have more choices than you think. You can keep this phone. Call Blackwood whenever you want." I step closer, watching her reaction. "But you should understand what that choice means. For you.”

For what's between us, I think but push away. She doesn’t give a shit about me.

"Is that a threat?" Her chin lifts slightly.

"It's reality." I hold her gaze. "Someone killed your mother and made it look like we did it. I’m beginning to think that someone wants the families at each other's throats and your mother, maybe even you, is a part of that game. If you keep playing their game, you're putting yourself in the crosshairs too."

"I'm choosing you," Isabella says, her voice flat. "Not because I trust you. Not because I believe you. But because I have no other options."

I should be satisfied. This is what I wanted, her loyalty, her compliance.

But the defeat in her eyes makes something twist inside me.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I ask.

"No." She shakes her head, a bitter smile touching her lips. "Nothing about this situation should make anyone feel better."