Page 46 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
"Calabresi Import-Export." His tone suggests I should already know this. "It'll be quick."
Twenty minutes later, we pull into an underground parking garage beneath a sleek high-rise.
Roman leads me through a private elevator that requires his fingerprint, up to a floor filled with what appears to be legitimate business operations.
Men in suits nod respectfully as Roman passes. I follow a step behind, hyper-aware of the stares tracking our movement.
"Wait here," Roman instructs, gesturing to a leather couch in a small waiting area. "I need to speak with Marco."
As soon as Roman disappears down the hallway, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair approaches. His expensive suit can't disguise the menace in his movements.
I recognize him immediately, Salvatore Abruzzo, one of the Calabresi captains I've seen at family gatherings.
"Well, well. The little spy has come right into the lion's den." His voice is soft but laced with venom.
I straighten my spine. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Salvatore laughs, a sound devoid of humor.
He sits beside me, too close, his thigh pressing against mine despite the ample space on the couch. "Don't play dumb with me. I know about your FBI friend. Blackwood, isn't it?"
My blood turns to ice.
"I've been watching you for months," he continues, his breath hot against my ear. "Roman might be blinded by your pretty face, but I'm not so easily fooled."
"You're mistaken," I manage, though my voice trembles.
His hand clamps down on my wrist, fingers digging painfully into my skin. "If Roman doesn't have the balls to put you down like the treacherous bitch you are, I'll do it myself." His grip tightens.
"Let go of me," I hiss, trying to pull away.
"Or what?" Salvatore sneers. "You'll call your FBI handler? Tell me, did you spread your legs for him too, or just beg for information?"
"That's enough, Salvatore." Roman's voice cuts through the tension like a blade. He stands before us, his expression murderous. This is the man everyone has grown to fear.
Salvatore releases my wrist immediately, but his eyes remain fixed on me, hatred radiating from his gaze.
"Just having a friendly chat with the newest member of our family," he says, rising smoothly to his feet.
Roman steps closer, positioning himself between us. "Isabella is my wife. Any issues you have with her, you bring to me."
"Of course." Salvatore straightens his already-perfect tie. "No disrespect intended."
The tension crackles between them as they stare each other down. I clutch my purse tighter wondering if he saw the woman pass me the phone.
Salvatore turns to leave but pauses beside me. "Welcome to the family, Mrs. Ginetti," he murmurs, the threat unmistakable beneath his polite words.
When he's gone, Roman kneels before me, taking my wrist gently in his hands. Red marks are already forming where Salvatore's fingers dug into my skin.
"What did he say to you?" Roman asks, his thumb brushing over the tender spots in a surprising show of gentleness.
"He knows about Blackwood." Once the words are out, I’m surprised at having said them. I can’t trust Roman, can I?
Roman's expression darkens, but he’s quiet as if he’s thinking.
"He said he's been watching me for months,” I add.
Roman's eyes search mine. "Did he threaten you?"
