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“Who?”

“I don’t know. Rival family, maybe. Someone from out of town wanting to get a piece of our action.” He turns to me. “You’re part of this plan too, Isabella. You see that, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whether it’s Blackwood or someone manipulating him, you’ve been the inside person they’re using. They got you to spy on your father?—”

“I never spied?—”

“You didn’t tell them things about your father?”

“Ah… well…” God, I did. “But nothing about business. How could I? I don’t know anything.”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “You know more than you think you do. And it’s gotten even better than they hoped. Instead of killing you, you’re still in La Corona. You’re poised to destroy us all.”

He studies me and for a moment, I worry I might be more hassle, more danger to him and the families than I’m worth.

He says he doesn’t kill women, but all he’d have to do is call Salvatore.

Roman shakes his head. "Why use you, specifically? Why manufacture evidence about your mother?"

"You think someone's using me to get to La Corona?"

"I think someone needed an inside source, someone with access but who could be manipulated." His eyes lock with mine. "Someone with a personal vendetta that would blind them to inconsistencies."

My hands tremble as I gather the photos. "If you're right, then I'm in danger, not just from La Corona but from an outside force as well."

"That's why you have me now." Roman's voice softens unexpectedly. He steps toward me, and while instinct should have me stepping back, I don’t. "Whatever else is between us, Isabella, I won't let anyone hurt you. Not Salvatore, not Blackwood—no one."

There's something in his eyes I haven't seen before, a fierce protectiveness that makes my breath hitch.

For the first time since this nightmare began, I feel a flicker of hope.

"Why would you protect me?" I ask, drawn in by his nearness. "After what I've done?"

"Because you're my wife now." He says it simply, as if that explains everything. "And because you deserve justice for your mother, real justice, not whatever game is being played."

I want to believe him.

God help me, I actually want to trust this man I've feared.

"If I let you help me," I say carefully, "if we try to figure out what really happened to my mother… what happens after?"

His hand cups my cheek. “Is being married to me really so awful that you’re already planning to leave?”

The gentleness of his touch and the warmth of his gaze are like a magnet, pulling me closer and closer to him. “No.”

His lips twitch upward slightly, and then he leans toward me, his lips pressing against mine.

Tiny rockets explode through my body at his soft kiss, shocking me. I should pull away.

My hands settle on his chest. They curl into his shirt and tug him closer.

9

ROMAN

I shouldn’t be doing this.