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"I'm afraid that's not possible," I say calmly. "The Capo has ordered them confiscated for security reasons."
"Security reasons?" Isabella scoffs. "What you mean is he's holding them hostage. Just like he's holding me."
"You're not a hostage," I say, a flare of irritation rising in me. "You're a guest."
"A guest who can't leave!" Isabella exclaims. "I never should have come here. I never knew you were all criminals."
The accusation stings, reawakening the conflict within me. I shove it aside, focusing on the defiance in Isabella's eyes.
"You didn't seem to have a problem accepting our help before," I point out. "And you were quick enough to call my boss for bail when you landed yourself in jail."
Isabella's cheeks flush an angry red.
"I was desperate and not thinking clearly. I never imagined you'd turn out to be mafioso." She spits out the word like it's poison.
"Is that what you think of us?" I say quietly. "We're not all bad, Isabella. The Capo took me in when I had no one. He gave me a purpose and a life."
"Some life," Isabella retorts. "Living like a criminal. Hurting people and profiting from their misery."
"It's more complicated than that," I say, an old ache rising in my chest.
I've grappled with the moral implications of this life before, but Capo's generosity binds me to him. I owe him everything.
"There's nothing complicated about it." Isabella's eyes flash with disgust. "You're either too blind to see the truth or don't care."
"The truth isn't always black and white," I say through gritted teeth.
"Maybe not for you," Isabella says coldly. "But I know right from wrong. And everything about this place is wrong."
I clench my jaw, anger simmering in my veins. Isabella acts as if she's better than us, judging what she doesn't understand. Doesn't she realize we've helped her? That if it weren't for the Capo's intervention, she'd still be rotting in a jail cell for drug possession?
"If this place is so wrong," I say tightly, "then why are you still here?"
Isabella glares at me, hands curled into fists. "You took my things, remember? I have nowhere else to go."
"You should be grateful we helped you at all," I snap.
"The only thing I'm grateful for is that my father isn't alive to see what I've gotten myself into." Isabella's words slice into me, sharp as a knife.
I stare at her for a long moment, a maelstrom of emotion churning inside me.
Finally, I turn on my heel and stalk to the door, unable to stand her company for another second. But after today, I want nothing more to do with the infuriating woman he's asked me to guard. Let her rot in her gilded cage for all I care.
I have enough problems of my own to deal with.
Chapter 11
Isabella
Itossandturnbeneath silk sheets, unable to quiet my racing mind.
Trapped. I'm being treated like a prisoner, whether the mafia will admit it or not.
By now, my anger at Juan has subsided. Perhaps he too doesn't understand what situation he's put me in. Longing to call Juan, to hear his voice, I reach for my phone before remembering it was confiscated.
Sighing, I rise and pad across cold marble floors to the window. The estate is shrouded in darkness. Skyscrapers, lit like lanterns, jut against starry skies in the distance.
Somewhere out there, killers hunt for me. My heart aches with each breath. How did I end up here, a pawn in this dangerous game?
