Page 92 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride

“I’ll bring out those cookies I made the other day as well.”

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the bedroom and head to the foyer where I see Elena Vitale with three small children jumping around her.

"Isabella! How lovely to see you," Elena says, her smile seemingly genuine. Does she not know of my misdeeds? I know she’s close to her cousin, Don Dominic Vitale.

"Elena, what a surprise," I manage, forcing my lips into what I hope passes for a welcoming smile.

I realize that I know of all the people in La Corona’s orbit, but I don’t know them as friends. I’d attended required parties and events, but my mother never had me connect with other kids in La Corona outside of that.

I see now that was by design.

As I grew up, she always planned for me to live free of this life.

"I hope we're not intruding. The children were desperate for a playdate with Angelica." She gestures to the three faces peering up at me with curiosity. "You remember Rocco, Elio, and Adalina?"

The triplets stare at me with matching brown eyes. One of the boys, I can't tell which, hides partially behind his mother's leg.

"Of course," I lie smoothly. "How wonderful to see you all."

Angelica appears in the hallway looking sullen until she spots the triplets. Her face transforms instantly.

"Addie! Rocco! Elio!" she squeals, running toward them.

Elena turns back to me with that perfect smile.

“Mrs. Rossi is making us some coffee and a tray of cookies,” I say, motioning to the living area. “We can have them in here.”

“Wonderful.” Elena’s eyes sweep over me, assessing. "We can catch up. After all, we're family now."

Family. Is she here on Roman's orders? Or Marco's? To keep an eye on me or prevent me from running away, as if I could?

I know Roman’s men are all over this apartment building.

I lead Elena to the sofa, maintaining my polite façade. Whatever her real purpose here, I won't give her anything to report back.

Mrs. Rossi arrives and pours us coffee and serves the holiday cookies.

I sip my coffee, watching Elena arrange herself on the sofa. Her eyes never leave mine, assessing me.

“I have to admit, I wondered how marriage to Roman Ginetti would be,” she says. "I imagine it's been an adjustment."

"You could say that." I keep my tone neutral, unwilling to reveal how broken I am inside.

“I always thought you’d avoid having an arranged marriage.”

“Oh?”

She shrugs. “You just always seemed so separate from the rest of us. Don’t get me wrong,” she hurriedly says. “I didn’t think you were conceited or anything. We never became friends like the others of us have.”

“As it turns out, there is no escaping our lives.” Inwardly, I wince at my choice of words.

Her brow furrows, and I wonder what sort of tongue lashing I’m going to get from Roman over that.

“Is that what you want? To escape?”

I’ve come this far. Why not go for broke? “I’d like to live my own life. Make my own decisions in life.” I lean forward. “Wouldn’t you?”

She takes a moment, eating a bite of cookie. “I don’t feel trapped in my life, but if I were unhappy with my lot, I would want tobe able to change it.” She sighs. “The men in these families, they have their priorities. Loyalty to La Corona always comes first. Something like love is secondary, if it factors in at all."