His Obsession, My Revenge: A Mafia Second Life

Isabella POV

"Signora," I whispered, my voice breaking perfectly. "I have only one small request... My mother is at St. Mary's Hospital. I need fifty dollars for her medicine. And just one day to bring it to her."

"Puttana ingrata!" Mrs. Russo snarled, stepping forward with her hand raised. "You dare make demands of the—"

"Enough, Russo," Bianca interrupted, her voice smooth and magnanimous. She relished this. She loved playing the merciful god to a desperate peasant. She turned her icy blue eyes back to me, studying me like a specimen beneath her glass.

"You may have tomorrow," Bianca said coldly. "We will discuss the money in the morning. Do not make me regret my charity."

"Thank you, Signora. Thank you," I wept, bowing my head as I slowly pushed myself up from the floor.

As I stood, the oversized collar of my borrowed nightgown slipped off my shoulder. The morning sunlight streaming through the French windows hit my exposed skin, illuminating the dark, violent bruises blooming across my collarbone and neck—the ruthless bite marks and possessive fingerprints Damien had left on me in the dark.

The temperature in the room instantly dropped to absolute zero.

Bianca's icy blue eyes locked onto my marked skin. The elegant, untouchable Mafia Queen froze. I saw her chest heave, her pristine, untouched body rigid with a sudden, visceral hatred. It wasn't just anger; it was the raw, agonizing jealousy of a woman confronted with the primal evidence of a man's uncontrollable lust—a lust she had never inspired.

Her beautiful face twisted into an ugly sneer. With a sudden, vicious swipe of her hand, she backhanded the remaining porcelain cup off the table. It shattered against the wall with a deafening crash, raining sharp fragments onto the Persian rug.

"Get her out of my sight," Bianca breathed, her voice shaking with a venom so pure it made my blood run cold.

Giuliana grabbed my arm, practically dragging me out of the sitting room. Once we were in the grand hallway, the maid muttered, "Wait here," and scurried off to find my new escort.

Left alone for a fleeting second, I pressed my back against the wall, inching closer to the heavy oak door that was left slightly ajar.

Inside, the sound of sweeping echoed. "Calm yourself, Signora," Mrs. Russo murmured.

"Keep treating her well," Bianca hissed, her voice tight and erratic. "Make sure she eats every bite of her meals. Did you get the herbs from the Strega?"

"Sì, Signora. The fertility herbs are already in the kitchen. She will be with child soon."

"Good," Bianca snapped. "And tomorrow, when she leaves... have the Falcone men follow her. I want to know exactly where her mother is, which doctor is treating her. Her mother is our collateral."

I pulled away from the door, my heart pounding a steady, cold rhythm against my ribs. Fertility herbs. Collateral. They thought they were weaving an inescapable web around a foolish girl.

Heavy footsteps approached. A different maid, Alessia, marched down the hall. She didn't have Giuliana's timid demeanor. Her dark eyes raked over me, lingering on my bruised neck with naked, burning envy.

"Follow me," Alessia spat.

She led me away from the opulent main house, deep into the labyrinth of the servants' wing. The air grew damp and cold. Finally, she shoved me into a cramped, freezing room at the end of a dead-end corridor. A narrow iron bed and a small wooden table were its only furnishings.

Alessia slammed a tray onto the table. It held nothing but cold, congealed scraps.

"You stay in here," she sneered, stepping back into the doorway. "You think you're special because the Don touched you? You're nothing but a dirty secret."

She didn't wait for my reply. The heavy door slammed shut, and the metallic clack of a lock turning echoed in the silence.

I stood in the dim light of my new cage, staring at the locked door. Alessia's eyes had been practically glowing with resentment. She wanted the power, the attention, the dangerous proximity to the Don that I had been forced into.

A slow, dark smile touched my lips. This one... her jealousy was a weapon I could use.