Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

He paused, looking at her face.

”But you’re not broken,” he continued quietly. ”You’re just lost. You let a man confuse you. Made you forget who you are. But underneath all that confusion, you’re still a Russo. You still have the strength I bred into you.”

Isabella felt tears starting to form. This time, she didn’t try to stop them.

”I’m sorry, Father,” she said, and she meant it with every fiber of her being. ”I’m sorry for disappointing you. For being weak. For letting myself be used by a man who saw me as nothing but a tool.”

”Sorry doesn’t matter,” Lorenzo said, his voice still clinical, still cold. ”Results matter. You’re going to fix this. You’re going to make this family strong again. You’re going to get Dimitri Valentino back, and when you do, you’re going to do it the right way. Not as some desperate woman trying to win back a lover. But as a strategic asset to this family. As someone who understands power.”

”Yes, Father,” Isabella said.

He handed her back the gun.

”This stays with you,” he said. ”Always. Keep it close. Because in our world, only the strong survive. And I won’t have a daughter who’s anything less than lethal.”

Isabella took the gun and holstered it. Her hands were shaking now, the adrenaline finally crashing, her body finally understanding that she’d just held a gun on her father’s most trusted man and lived to tell about it.

”You can leave,” Lorenzo said, moving back to his desk. ”But remember what I said. Dante Romano is off-limits. Completely. If I find out you’ve made contact with him in any way, we’re done. Do you understand?”

”Yes, Father.”

”And Dimitri Valentino is your target. Figure out how to get him back. Figure out what you need to do to make him want you again. That’s your job now.”

”I understand,” Isabella said.

She turned and walked to the door. Her hand was steady when she reached for the handle, but her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might actually break through her ribs.

”Isabella,” her father called out just as she was pulling open the door.

She turned back.

”Don’t ever pull a gun on me again,” he said quietly. His dark eyes were fixed on her, and there was something almost tender in his expression. ”I’m your father. I’m the only thing standing between you and death in this family. I’m the only one who can protect you from people like Dante Romano. Remember that.”

”I will,” she said. And she meant it.

She closed the door carefully behind her and walked down the hallway with her head up and her gun close to her body. Marco was standing at the end of the corridor, and he didn’t even look at her as she passed.

That was fine. There would be time to repair that relationship. Time to fix the damage she’d done by holding a gun to his head. But not today.

Today, she just needed to get out of this house.

***

The drive away from the estate was completely different this time.

Isabella sat in her car, parked in a small clearing just before the front gates, and let herself shake. Let the adrenaline crash hit her in waves that made her stomach churn. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, and her breathing came in gasps.

She’d pulled a gun on her father’s second-in-command. She’d threatened to kill him. She’d stood her ground in a way she never had before in her entire life.

And she’d been released.

Not absolved. Not forgiven. But released. Free to go. Able to walk out of that house and get back into her own life.

Which meant she had a choice now. A real choice.

Stay away from Dante, which felt impossible, given the way her body responded to the mere thought of him. Given the way her pussy clenched when she remembered his hands on her body. Given the fact that blocking his number and cutting off all contact would be like cutting off a piece of herself.

Or pursue Dimitri, which also felt impossible because she didn’t even know how to start. Because he’d made his choice months ago when he’d fallen for Eve. Because getting him back would mean somehow proving that she was worth more than the woman who’d already claimed him.

Isabella pulled out her phone. Her hands shook as she went through her contacts. She found Dante’s number....all five of them. The personal line. The business line. The encrypted number. The backup.

She blocked each one individually.

Then she blocked his email. His messaging app contacts. Everything. She erased him from her phone like he’d never existed.

And it felt like dying.

Because even though her mind understood that Dante had used her, that he’d recorded her and monitored her and made her believe something real was happening between them when all along he was just gathering information....her body didn’t care. Her body wanted him back. Wanted his hands on her. Wanted the rough, brutal way he’d used her.

But she was a Russo. And Russos didn’t let their emotions control them.

She started the car and drove away from the estate. And she didn’t look back.

Behind her, hidden in the trees at the edge of the property, the black car that had been following her all day watched her drive away.

The driver pulled out his phone and made a call.

”Boss,” he said when Dante answered. ”I think she just had a fight with her father. And now she’s leaving. Heading back to the city.”

”Keep following her,” Dante finally said. ”And let me know where she goes. What she does. Who she talks to.”

”Yes, boss.”

Dante hung up.

And somewhere in Rome, a man who’d built an empire on controlling people was discovering that the one person he couldn’t control was the woman he’d never meant to care about.