Isabella's jaw clenched. She could feel her pulse in her neck, hammering so hard she thought he might be able to see it.
"I know about Dante Romano," her father continued, moving closer. His voice was calm. Almost gentle. Which was somehow more terrifying than if he'd been shouting. "I know that you've been seeing him. I know that you've been letting him use your body like it's his personal toy. I know that while he was fucking you, he was gathering intelligence on this family. On me. On our operations."
Isabella wanted to deny it. Wanted to say that it wasn't true, that she'd been careful, that no information had been compromised. But the words stuck in her throat.
"How did you find out?" she asked instead.
Her father smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.
