Page 3 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
Don Leonardo Ferraza occupies the far seat, his complexion flushed, beads of sweat visible on his forehead despite the room's cool temperature. The old man looks like he's about to have a stroke.
I stand at attention, hands clasped behind my back, the perfect picture of respect while my mind races through possibilities.
A territory dispute? Betrayal within the ranks? Issues with the police?
"Roman." Marco finally acknowledges me with a slight nod. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
I incline my head slightly. "Of course, Don Calabresi."
I scan each face methodically, searching for clues. Whatever has Don Leonardo Ferraza this agitated must be significant.
"We have a problem." Marco’s piercing, dark eyes settle on Don Ferraza. "A serious one."
I wait to hear more.
“Isabella Ferraza has been meeting with a federal agent,” Don Vitale explains.
My face betrays nothing as I process what I'm hearing.
Isabella, Leonardo's daughter, is meeting with a federal agent.
The implication is that she’s passing information.
Betraying La Corona.
That’s not good. Not good at all.
I glance at Marco, meeting his gaze. We've known each other since childhood. I can read what's unspoken in his eyes.
I’m not here as underboss, but as executioner.
"My daughter didn't know what she was doing!" Don Ferraza slams his palm against the table. Desperation distorts his usually dignified features. "She was manipulated, fed lies?—"
"Lies about what?" Don Monti asks.
Don Ferraza's shoulders sag. "The agent convinced her that the Calabresi family, specifically, was responsible for Sophia's death."
Sophia Ferraza. Isabella's mother.
Marco sneers. “Why the fuck would I have your wife killed, Leo?”
Why indeed.
“No reason, Marco. I know that, and it’s my opinion that matters, not Isabella’s.”
“Why the Feds?” Don Vitale asks.
Don Ferraza looks like a man who’s about at the end of his rope. “I don’t know. She wants answers about her mother’s death.”
“Any chance this Fed targeted her?” I ask.
All eyes turn to me.
“What do you mean?” Marco asks.
I shrug. “Isabella seems like a smart enough woman to know going to the Feds is stupid. But if she was looking for answers to her mother’s death, maybe?—”
“Maybe they saw an opening.” Marco sits back and considers this, as do the others.
