Fed hesitates, then sighs. “Try Carmela0522.”
The screen unlocks. My wedding date. Something warm flutters in my chest before I push it aside.
“Now leave me alone.”
“You know Silvo will?—”
“What Silvo doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” I fix Fed with the same glare that kept my own brothers in line. “Unless you plan to tell him?”
Fed raises his hands in surrender. “Your funeral,” he mutters, backing out of the office.
Once alone, I dive into the De Luca database. Files upon files on every family in the country. I click onMorettiand begin scrolling through decades of intelligence. Names, businesses, territories, weaknesses. I jot notes, memorize faces, and map connections.
Nico Moretti, the head of the family. His son Maximo—the man Isabella can’t seem to stop arguing with whenever they cross paths. I study their operations, their patterns, searching for anything I can use. I’m not just some prize to be threatened or protected. I’m Carmela Bianchi De Luca, and I refuse to be a pawn in anyone’s game.
Hours pass as I build my own dossier. The Moretti family wants war? I’ll learn exactly who I’m fighting.
The clock on Silvo’s desk shows 2 AM when I hear the door creak open. I freeze, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.
“Carmela?” Isabella’s voice is soft with surprise. “Fed woke me. He said something happened—are you alright?”
I glance up to see her in her pajamas.
“The Morettis sent me a message today.” I gesture to the photos and threatening note spread across the desk.
Isabella steps forward, picking up one of the photos. Her face hardens. “They’re watching your house.”
“They’re watching me.” I tap the screen where Maximo Moretti’s file is open. “And I’m tired of being a target without knowing my enemy.”
I brace for a lecture, for her to tell me to leave this to the men, to remind me I’m overstepping my bounds as a new wife. Instead, Isabella slides into the chair beside me.
“The intelligence on the Moretti daughter is in a separate folder.” She reaches across me, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “Valeria. She’s studying business at Wharton. If they’re targeting you, we should know everything about their family, too.”
I stare at her, caught off guard by her willing participation. “You’re helping me?”
Isabella gives me a small smile, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “You’re a De Luca now. We protect our own.”
“But Silvo?—”
“My brother is a brilliant strategist, but he has blind spots.” She pulls up another file. “He sees you as something to protect rather than an ally. Men in our world often miss that women can be weapons too.”
The tension in my shoulders releases as I realize I’ve found an unexpected ally. “My family taught me that from birth.”
“Then between your Bianchi instincts and my De Luca knowledge, we’ll be ready for whatever the Morettis are planning.” Isabella squeezes my hand. “Family protects family. Even new members of the family.”
For the first time since moving to Philadelphia, I feel like I might belong here.
Isabella pulls up a folder on Maximo Moretti, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard for a moment.
“There’s something I haven’t told anyone.” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. “Not even Silvo or Fed.”
I lean closer, noticing the sudden tension in her shoulders. “What is it?”
“Maximo’s been sending me messages.” Isabella reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. “For weeks now.”
My breath catches. “Messages? Like the one I received today?”
“Different, but just as unsettling.” She scrolls through her phone and hands it to me. “See for yourself.”
