Of volume lineage

Though he didn’t change particularly when leading his men, remaining the same emotionless psychopath who made me pancakes for breakfast, his actions were more withdrawn. He wouldn’t tie Quintus’s shoelaces or make Vincent pancakes, that was for sure.

I felt a hint of smugness at this revelation but quickly shoved it down. There was still the chance that Giova

Vincent’s gray eyes cut to me. “Isabella was in the meeting with you.”

You fucking asshole, I thought. “And?”

“What are you implying, Vincent?” My husband’s voice was hard. Even Uncle Bartolomeo sent Vincent a scowl.

“We need to be thorough with this investigation,” the underboss said. “This is the first time in decades we have been caught so obviously by the Feds. We have never had a rat until this moment–the moment we have merged with the Lombardis and let them join our organization.”

Uncle Bartolomeo looked pissed. “Are you implying my niece is disloyal to her husband? That I, or Adriano, have betrayed our don? I’ve killed men for lesser insults.”

Shouts went up at the threat but no one moved, not with Giova

“I am just saying that the timing is suspicious.”

“In their defence,” Domenico Giordano begun, “we are also now a New York crime family. Our organization is under the microscope now more than it ever has been before. Perhaps there isn’t a rat–maybe we’re just being surveyed more.”

Vincent didn’t look convinced.

Giova

Besides, I had something Vincent didn’t.

“We could discuss who we think is the culprit all day,” Quintus said. “That doesn’t change the fact that we’ve potentially lost an alliance with the Ó Fiaich mob.”

The conversation shifted towards the Irish Mob and how they suspected Tommy would react. Beneath the table, I slipped off my shoe and rubbed my toe up and down Giova

I honestly had no idea how he would react. Would he be interested in me after already trying me out at Onirico? Would he see through the distraction and know that I was the rat immediately? To my utter delight, Giova

I forced myself to face the other men, nodding every now and then to feign interest. After years of being dragged places with my mother, I liked to think I had the pretend to be listening act perfected.

Under the table, I lifted my leg higher until I could press my foot gently against Giova

He caught my ankle, squeezing in warning. It didn’t matter; his erection pressed into me.

“–with Thomas Sr being in hospital, lots of Ó Fiaich enemies are coming back. There are whispers of Gallaghers who survived the Great Cull gathering support underground–”

I pressed lightly on his boner. Giova

A smile was trying to grow up my lips and I faked a cough to hide it.

“Isabella, can you go and check on Marzia?” Giova

I snapped my head to him, trying not to be offended he was kicking me out of the meeting so early. Maybe he suspected me more than he was letting on...

I slipped my shoes back on and rose to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”

He kicked me out, I bitched to myself as I left the room. A few of the capos sent me amused looks, like I was the kid being called up to the principal’s office and they were the assholes sitting at the back of the class yelling, oooooh, someone’s in troubleeeee!

Marzia was still fast asleep. She had kicked off half of the blanket, her legs hanging off the side in a position that couldn’t have been comfortable. I pushed her gently back onto the bed, before retucking the quilt back in. It was warm at night but in the morning, she would be freezing if she wasn’t covered.

A little frown had formed between her brows like she was trying to figure out a math’s equation in her sleep, but she didn’t seem restless. I smoothed down her hair before exiting.

Giova

“Put your hands against the wall.”

I shivered at the command in his tone but refused to backdown that easily. “You kicked me out of the meeting. We’re not friends anymore.”

Giova

My traitorous body grew warm, the apex between my thighs growing wet.

“Tell me who you think the rat is.”

His palms caught my waist, turning me in a sharp movement. I reached out to steady myself, letting out an irritated noise. “Giova

My husband ran his hands down my side and over my ass, squeezing the sensitive flesh. “You better be quiet then.”

A mirror hung above the side table, giving me a clear view of Giova

I couldn’t help but compare our appearances. Me, young, Sicilian-featured, dressed in a black dress that hugged my curves and wearing red lipstick so startling it looked like blood. Then my husband, almost forty, gray touching his temples, dressed in a suit that could’ve made a nun forget her vowels…and the expression on his face had my stomach cramping.

“You shouldn’t tempt the shark with blood, Isabella,” he warned. “Next time you play footsies under the table, I’m going to bend you over the chair and fuck you right there, in front of all my soldati. Is that what you want?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “You would let them watch?”

Giova

“Then you would be without advisors,” I breathed, my head spi

“Everyone’s replaceable.” Giova

I wiggled my ass. “Tell me who you think the rat is.”

“You’ve got a mobsters mind, has anyone ever told you that?”

“What do you think?”

In the reflection of the mirror, I spotted the corner of his lips twitch. Another smile. My chest warmed at the sight of it.

Giova

I swallowed loudly, surprised at his admittance of his lust. “Really?” I tried not to sound so disbelieving.

His eyes flickered to mine in the mirror, pupils dilated. “You know you’re beautiful. You know hundreds of men would kill for the chance to touch the striking Isabella Lombardi.”