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"Hello." Juan's smooth voice comes through the line.
Relief washes over me, quickly replaced by a surge of anger. "Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
"I don't know what you mean," he says calmly. Too calmly. "Why are you calling me from Stefano's phone?"
I ignore his question.
"The mafia, Juan. You didn't think to mention that you were sending me to New York to be involved with the mafia?"
Silence.
Then, "Isabella, you shouldn't concern yourself with such things."
His patronizing tone makes my blood boil.
"Don't give me that." I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. "If the Capo is as dangerous as everyone says, I have a right to know the truth."
Juan sighs. "The mafia is complicated. But they are loyal to us, to your Papa's memory. They will keep you safe."
"Safe?" I scoff. "Or under their control?"
"Isabella, please trust me," he says softly. "This is the only option until it's safe for you to return."
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, pale and wide-eyed, and see the truth in it: I'm in over my head. But I won't back down now. Not until I'm free.
"If you won't tell me the truth, I'll find it out myself." My voice comes out steady, betraying none of my doubts. "You might not realize it, but I am being kept prisoner here."
Juan starts to protest, but I end the call before he can respond. The phone slips from my hands and clatters to the counter as the full weight of what I've done sinks in.
I'm playing with fire now. I might have just turned Juan into a foe. And if I'm not careful, I'll get burned.
I grab the edge of the counter, knuckles white, and take a deep breath. No time for doubts. I have work to do.
After splashing cold water on my face, with shaky hands, I dial the only person I can think of who might be able to help.
Clara Laborin Herrera.
The phone goes unanswered for a few rings, and I pray she picks up the unknown call.
"Hello?"
"Clara, it's Isabella."
"Isabella," she says, in a slow drawl, like she'd been waiting. "Where's the burner?"
"Can't use it," I whisper. "I'm hiding it."
"Why?" she asks calmly. "Are you safe?"
"Safe, yes. But I'm basically a prisoner."
"Can you tell me where you are?"
"I'm in New York, with the man Juan has trusted to keep me safe, Don Luca Conti."
"Conti? You've got to leave.," said Clara.
"I can't. He has my passport, my cards. He's got guards watching me."
