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Hassan, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward in his chair, his gaze fixed on Isabella. "What do you suggest we do, then?"
Isabella's lips curled into a wry smile as she reached into her purse and pulled out a thick envelope. She slid it across the table towards me. "The first step is always information," she said cryptically.
Carefully, I opened the envelope to reveal a collection of documents—bank statements, legal papers and photographs that looked like they were taken from surveillance cameras.
I gave Isabella a questioning look. "What's all this?"
"Proof," she said, her tone darkening. "Proof of Vito's dealings. His financial transactions, secret meetings, and unknown associates." She paused to let the weight of her words sink in. "With this, you can expose him."
I furrowed my brow, playing with the envelope in my hands.
"But I can't expose him," I said. “I’m in the business myself, and he’s established, powerful. The cops are in his pocket…and any payoff from us is small change compared to what he can do.”
“You came to me for help and this is what I can do; it’s my life’s work, now that my daughter is gone.” Isabella's gaze didn't waver from mine. "This is every scrap of evidence I've been able to gather against Vito over the past few years. Records of his illegal operations, names of corrupt officials in his pocket, and a few...compromising photographs."
"I see," I said, digesting the information. For a while, the silence was only interrupted by the sound of other tables quietly talking.
"I know you're not in a position to expose him," she said. "But you need to be ready. He's going to come after you with everything he's got. Legally, not just with lawyers but with our friends in blue. He has more than a few cops in his pocket. He's going to go after you in the media. You're an easy target, Bash. You're a boss with a pretty hefty rap sheet."
"What about my wife?"
"She's going to be married to you," Isabella said. "It wouldn't surprise me if the judge called her judgment into question because of it."
Her words hit me like a sucker punch, leaving me gasping for air. "He wouldn't..."
"Oh, he would," she interjected, her voice cold and calculated. "He's ruthless. That's why he's been so successful. Once he knows Sebastian won't miss you, he'll kill you and he'll kill Justice."
Hassan cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "But with these documents, we can turn the tables on him, force him onto the defensive. Even if we can't go to the police, we can use these, boss."
"Yes." Isabella nodded, her eyes glinting with the beginnings of a plan. "You can use them to secure allies. To make his friends your friends. To set up traps and catch him off guard."
"You mean blackmail," I said, a chill creeping up my spine.
"You're a little naive for a man in your position," she said, no malice in her voice.
"Yeah...my brother took the brunt of a lot of it," I said, then shook my head. "But that's not really the point. I don't mind being ruthless, but if it's going to harm Sebastian, I'm not willing to do it."
Isabella leaned back in her chair, surveying me with those intense eyes that had seen more than the average woman. Those eyes that held a lifetime of sorrow and strength. "What you fail to understand is this isn't about what you're willing to do, but what you have to do. Sebastian's safety depends on it."
I ran a hand through my hair, my fingers brushing against the beginnings of a headache formed from this whirlwind conversation. "It's not as simple as you make it sound, Isabella."
"Of course it isn't," she retorted. "Nothing worthwhile ever is. But you're capable; I wouldn't be here if you weren't. With you and your wife, there's a chance Sebastian isn't going to be in this life. With Vito..."
I picked up the envelope again, flipping through the damning evidence against Vito. The file was thick, heavy–and the documents inside were detailed. Isabella had done a lot of work toward taking down her husband, so it was no wonder she’d gone into hiding.
Vito probably wanted her dead.
She was taking a risk here.
“I know who to take this to, if you accept,” Hassan murmured. “Leak little bits of information…bring it up in conversation, make Vito uncomfortable. But it’s up to you.”
My mind whirled back to Sebastian—my nephew, the innocent soul caught up in this dangerous game of ours. I thought of how much he reminded me of Jez, his father, who too had been pulled into this world before his time. The weight of my choices crashed down on me like a tidal wave; it was a burden that threatened to drown me.
"All right," I said finally, sliding the file folder toward me. "I'll do it."
Isabella nodded once, an approving glint in her eyes. "Good. Remember, Bash, you're not alone in this. I can't loudly support you, of course, but know that I'll be watching you from the shadows. Honestly, I could even take him, run–"
"He's our child, Isabella," I said, feeling defensive for the first time since I'd gotten to the restaurant. “That’s not what this is about.”
