Chapter 4

Isabella sat in her father's study, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. The air was thick with tension, the kind that seeped into your bones and refused to leave. Her father, Don Marino, was flipping through a series of surveillance images, each one more unsettling than the last. Dominic sat next to him, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the details. A few of Dominic's men and her father's trusted advisors were seated around the room, their faces etched with concern and determination.

For Isabella, just being in the room was a victory. Her father had finally allowed her to witness the inner workings of their operations, a step closer to proving herself. She watched intently, her heart pounding with anticipation.

Don Marino looked up, his eyes meeting Isabella's. "Piccola, I am only allowing you in to witness what goes on," he said, his voice stern but tinged with affection.

Isabella nodded, knowing better than to push her luck. She returned her gaze to the images on the table, her mind racing with thoughts of strategy and revenge.

"We've found their base," Don Marino announced, pointing to a particular set of images. "It's heavily fortified, but it's their main hub. Russo has been using it to coordinate all his attacks."

The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Dominic cracked his knuckles, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. "Why are we sitting here? This could be solved easily," he said, standing up, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous excitement.

Don Marino frowned, trying to maintain control of the situation. "It's not that simple, Dominic. We need to be strategic. Rushing in could get us all killed."

Dominic's rebellious nature shone through, his aggressive stance a stark contrast to Don Marino's measured approach. "I've taken down worse than Russo," Dominic retorted. "Sitting here talking won't get us anywhere."

Isabella usually listened to her father's every word, respecting his wisdom and experience. But today, something was different. Her blood was boiling with the desire to act, to prove herself in the face of danger. "I want to come," she blurted out, her eyes locked on Dominic.

The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at her. Dominic burst into laughter, clearly not taking her seriously. "You? Come with us? That's a good one," he said, still chuckling.

Don Marino's expression darkened, his protective instincts kicking in. "Isabella, this is not happening. I forbid you to go."

Isabella's frustration reached a boiling point. She stood up, slamming her fists on the table. "I'll do whatever I want, papa," she shouted, her voice echoing through the room.

Don Marino shook his head, his disappointment palpable. "This is not a game, Isabella. This is war."

Tears of anger and frustration welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She turned and stormed out of the room, her heart pounding with a mix of rage and determination. She couldn't stand being treated like a child any longer. She needed to prove that she was capable, that she could handle herself in the face of danger.

As she rushed down the corridor, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She would find a way to show them all, even if it meant defying her father and going up against Dominic.

—

Dominic stood by the black SUV, meticulously packing the last of their gear into the back. The trunk was filled with weapons, ammunition, and supplies for the ambush on the Russo clan. The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the scene, illuminating the grim determination etched on his face. His mind drifted to Isabella, her fiery spirit and fierce determination surprising him more and more each day. He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. She was wild, unlike any woman he had ever met.

Most women in their world settled for the traditional roles, content with managing the household and supporting their men from the sidelines. But not Isabella. She wanted more— she wanted to be in the thick of the action, proving her worth alongside the men. It was something Dominic admired, even if it drove him to distraction. Every night before he fell asleep, thoughts of her danced through his mind, her defiant eyes and stubborn chin filling his dreams.

He snapped back to reality as his best man, Tony, approached him. "Boss, you ready?" Tony asked, his voice low and tense.

Dominic nodded, taking one last glance at Don Marino's house. Despite their rocky alliance, he hoped for the best for all of them. He used to hate the Marino family, but that was before he met any of them. Now, things were different.

The drive to the Russo mansion was tense, the silence in the SUV broken only by the occasional murmur of strategy. Dominic's mind raced with plans and contingencies, every turn of the road bringing them closer to danger. He could feel the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, the lives of his men and the fate of their alliance resting on his decisions.

When they finally pulled up near the sprawling Russo mansion, the air was thick with anticipation. Dominic and his men moved swiftly, their training kicking in as they spread out to scope the property. The mansion was a fortress, surrounded by high walls and guarded by heavily armed men. They crept through the shadows, avoiding the patrols as they made their way to the main gate.

Dominic hid in a bush, peering through the foliage to survey the scene. He was about to signal his men to breach the gate when he felt someone enter the bush with him. Instinctively, he turned, his weapon raised, ready to strike. But instead of an enemy, he saw those familiar cherry-colored lips curved into a smirk.

"Piccola, what are you doing?" Dominic whispered harshly, his voice a mix of anger and incredulity.

Isabella shrugged, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I wanted to show you I can do things too," she whispered back.

Dominic growled in frustration, lowering his weapon and frowning at her, hoping she could see it in the darkness. "You are going to get me and my men hurt," he growled.

Isabella's expression hardened, her stubbornness matching his own. "I can handle myself, Dominic. I’m not some damsel in distress."

"This isn't a game, Isabella," Dominic snapped. "This is war. One wrong move and we're all dead."

They continued to argue in hushed whispers, the tension between them palpable. Dominic's frustration was mounting, but so was his admiration for her tenacity. Just as he was about to insist she leave, a voice shouted from the darkness.

"Who's there?"

Both Dominic and Isabella froze, their hearts pounding. Dominic pressed his finger against her lips, silencing her. Her body was pulled tight against his, every muscle in his body tensed for action. The seconds stretched into an eternity as they waited, hidden in the bush, hoping their cover wouldn't be blown.

The voice called out again, closer this time, and Dominic knew they were out of time. He tightened his grip on Isabella, ready to protect her at all costs. The stakes had never been higher, and the danger had never felt more real.