Isabella's POV The restaurant was exactly the kind of place I would have expected—upscale, discreet, the sort of establishment where powerful people conducted business over expensive meals. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, white tablecloths covered every surface, and the other diners spoke in hushed tones that suggested important conversations.We were seated at a corner table, partially secluded from the rest of the room by strategically placed plants and decorative screens. I sat across from the don, the man who had murdered my parents, and kept the smile frozen on my face like a mask I couldn't remove. My hands were clasped in my lap beneath the table, hidden from view, where I could dig my nails into my palms without him seeing.The pain helped. It kept me focused, kept me from doing something reckless.A waiter appeared, handed us menus, and disappeared after the don ordered wine. I stared at the menu without actually seeing the words, my mind racing."Why had he br
Last Updated : 2025-11-27 Read more