The old butler, Antonio, who’d bounced me on his knee as a child, shifted uncomfortably. "Signore Falcone," he murmured, "forgive me, but the signorina... she would never stage such a thing. It is not in her."Dante hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. I seized the opening. I forced my trembling body into a low, formal bow, a plea of utmost desperation.“Please,” I choked, the plea cracked by the motion. “Please, save my mother. I’m begging you.” Finally, he spoke, his voice softening just a fraction. “Alright. You’re my fiancée, Isabella. For better or worse. I’ll take my men and check it out,” he conceded, his gaze fixed on my pathetic state. “But know this, Isabella. If this is another one of your games, if you’re lying to me… I will never trust you again.”I snapped my head up, hope igniting in my chest. I didn't care about the threat. As long as he went.He had just started to call for his men when his phone buzzed.It was Leo.Dante hit the speakerph
อ่านเพิ่มเติม