All Chapters of Married To The Mafia King, Pregnant With His Heir: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Isabella Damiano left the dining room within minutes of reading that note, Enzo close behind him, both of them already speaking in the clipped, efficient shorthand of men preparing for something they'd trained for their whole lives.I sat alone at that long table for longer than I meant to, staring at the empty space where the note had been before Damiano folded it back up and took it with him, as if the paper itself might still hold some answer if I looked hard enough.It was Sofia who found me there, still in her evening clothes, her expression carrying the particular calm of someone who had grown up in a house that occasionally required calm on short notice."You should eat something," she said, though she made no move to bring me food, only sat down across from me in the chair Damiano had vacated. "Shock burns through you faster than people think.""Is that a Rossi family saying," I asked, "or something you learned firsthand.""Both," she said, and there was no bitterness in it,

IsabellaDamiano didn't answer Enzo right away, and the silence stretched long enough that I understood, before either of them said another word, that this request had shifted something between them, some calculation neither man wanted to make out loud in front of me."Absolutely not," Damiano said finally. "He doesn't get to summon her like she's already his to call for.""He's not summoning her," Enzo said carefully. "He's requesting. There's a difference, and Salvatore knows the difference matters to men like you.""I don't care what he calls it," Damiano said. "The answer is no."I felt something rise in my chest, sharp and unwelcome, the particular fury of watching two men decide my fate in a room I was sitting in."That's not your decision to make alone," I said, and both of them turned to look at me like they'd genuinely forgotten I was there."Isabella""No," I said, cutting him off before he could finish whatever protective sentence he'd been building. "You've spent the last

IsabellaDamiano's hand closed around my arm before I could fully process what was happening, pulling me down behind the nearest row of vines just as the first car crested the hill."Stay low," he said, his voice flat in the way it always went right before violence found him. "Whatever happens, you stay behind me."Enzo was already moving, shouting orders to the men who had come with us, and I watched them scatter into position with the practiced speed of people who had trained for exactly this moment even while hoping it would never come."This wasn't Salvatore's plan," Damiano said, his eyes tracking the approaching vehicles. "He wouldn't bring this many men to a meeting he requested himself. Something's gone wrong on his side too.""How do you know that.""Because if he wanted us dead, he'd have done it somewhere his own family couldn't trace back to him," he said. "This isn't discipline. This is someone acting without his permission."The first shots came before I could ask what t

Isabella The days after the vineyard settled into a rhythm that felt entirely different from the one before it, though it took me most of a week to understand exactly how.Enzo doubled the guards along the perimeter without asking permission from anyone, and new locks appeared on doors that hadn't needed them before. My movements through the estate, once merely monitored, now required an escort even to walk the garden paths I'd grown to think of as mine."This is worse than before," I said to Damiano one morning, finding him in his study reviewing reports I wasn't invited to read. "At least before, the rules felt like ownership. Now they feel like fear.""They are fear," he said, not looking up. "I'm not going to apologize for that.""I'm not asking for an apology," I said. "I'm asking why I can't walk to the terrace without Enzo's men trailing me like I'm made of glass."He set the papers down then, his expression tired in a way I hadn't seen from him since the night of the shootin

IsabellaMarco left within the hour, escorted out by two of Enzo's men with instructions I didn't hear but understood from the set of Damiano's jaw were final in a way the last warning hadn't quite managed to be.I found Damiano in his study afterward, standing at the window with the same stillness I'd learned to recognize as grief wearing the shape of composure, though this time I suspected the grief belonged to someone other than Matteo."Who is Victor Kane," I asked.He didn't turn around right away, and the silence stretched long enough that I moved to stand beside him, close enough to see the tension held tight along his shoulders."A man who should have stayed retired," he said finally. "Or dead, depending on which version of the rumors you believed.""That's not an answer.""No," he agreed. "It isn't."I waited, learning by now that pressing too hard too fast only made him retreat further into whatever careful rationing system governed his honesty. Eventually, he exhaled, slow