I S A B E L L A
The next evening comes faster than I expect, and I find myself gripping the edge of the leather seat as Angelo drives us to the meeting. The silence in the car is deafening, broken only by the low hum of the engine. No music plays, and I'm certain the loudest thing in this car is my thoughts. I glance at Angelo out of the corner of my eye, his profile sharp against the dim glow of the dashboard lights. His focus is resolute, hands steady on the wheel, the perfect picture of control.
I wish I could say the same about myself.
My mind spins with everything he’s told me—and everything he hasn’t. The Giordanos, this meeting, the alliances. It all feels bigger than I can grasp, like I’m being pulled into a world I barely understand. And yet, here I am, sitting beside Angelo, h
