The moment they passed through the doors, the scent of cigar smoke and alcohol assailed her, sickening her. Once they were inside enemy territory, Klaus moved her so she stood behind him. With his brother close, no one would see her unless they had x-ray vision or thought to look at the ground.
Klaus had encouraged her to dress up tonight. To wear something striking. The dress was the color of blood. There were no straps, so her chest, neck, and upper body were clear to see. Nothing to obscure the view. She’d pinned her hair up so all would see there was not a single mark on her. There was even a slit in the dress, and each time she walked, it swayed open, revealing her legs. Again, no marks.
She’d gone against a wrap, and her arms were also free. No marks.
With her husband, she was perfectly safe. He’d saved her.
“You’re doing good,” Carlo said from behind her.
“I’m walking. It’s not like I can get that wrong.” As if her feet wanted to work against her, she stumbled in the heels Klaus had asked her to wear. Within seconds, he spun around and wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her upright. She held on to his strong arms, releasing a little pant. She couldn’t believe she had almost tripped and fallen. “Okay, clearly I can do something wrong with walking.”
“You good?”
“I’m good. Embarrassed.”
Carlo laughed, and she shot him a glare. “You’re supposed to be like a brother to me.”
“And I am. I think you’re so fucking cute and hilarious.”
“Enough,” Klaus said. “Find your own woman to consider cute. This one’s mine.”
She loved how possessive he was. The little hint of jealousy made her smile.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Barely,” Carlo said.
“Do you want me to exchange you for Renzo?”
“Please, you think he would be any different?”
“Boys, we don’t have time for all of this chitchat. Our lives are all at stake. Isabella, can you walk?” her father-in-law asked, his tone clearly agitated.
“Yes.” She wanted to point out to him that it was Klaus who’d wanted her to wear the ridiculous heels in the first place. She kept her thoughts to herself.
All three men shared a look.
There was a real threat of danger here. She took a deep breath. Klaus let her go and the moment he did, she missed his touch. Why did he have to let her go?
They walked past several servants and staff. They came to a set of double doors and she heard the noise. It was loud, coming from the inside.
“Do not show weakness,” Klaus’s father said.
No words were spoken. She needed a little more to the speech than that. She was going to be sick. If she didn’t contain her emotions, she’d make them all look like fools.
It was like Klaus could read her mind because he grabbed her hand. She took it. His strength gave her strength. There was no other place she wanted to be.
In and out, she took deep breaths.
Marcel reached for the doors and opened them, spreading them wide. The noise that had been echoing out into the hall went completely silent.
Carlo moved closer to her.
They all stepped into the room. She was still hidden between Klaus and Carlo. The moment they entered the room, she snuck a peek over Klaus’s shoulder. No one spotted her, at least not yet, but she saw her father.
“Here he is,” he said. “The murderer. He disrespects our rules. Kills my daughter and doesn’t even give her a proper burial, and now he has my son. I demand the Accardi name be completely stripped. We’ll kill every single one of their members, and we’ll make them suffer. Their wealth belongs to me. Their power returns to mine.”
Silence fell in the room.
Could they hear her heartbeat?
“You’re accusing me of killing my wife?” Klaus asked.
“Yes. You couldn’t keep her protected and I know. I was the one who sent them, to test you, and they were able to kill her.”
The words spilled from her father’s mouth, shocking even her.
Carlo tapped her shoulder. “This is your time to step forward.”
“Oh,” Isabella said. No one had actually told her when the right time to step forward was. “Actually, Father, I’m very much alive,” she said, stepping by Klaus’s side, holding her husband’s hand, and showing unity with her true family.
Chapter Twelve
All that could be heard were the shocked gasps around the room. It couldn’t have gone better. They’d planned for this day, but he never expected it to go so smoothly.
Although the night was still young.
“Isabella?” The shock in her father’s voice pissed him off.
“Your plan to kill me didn’t work,” she said. “If Klaus hadn’t saved me, the men you sent would have murdered me.”
Klaus texted Renzo while Isabella was talking.
He noticed Aldo Vitcorio leaning over his chair to whisper to one of his men.
“You would kill your own blood to slander the Accardi name?” Marcel pretended to spit on the ground. “I demand vengeance for Carmello Lastra’s sins.”
His father showed honor and strength. It had been a long time since Klaus felt pride for his old man.
“He killed my son, my heir,” shouted Lastra. “All in retaliation for a girl who isn’t even dead.”
“Your daughter,” Klaus corrected. The doors opened behind them, and Renzo led in a wobbly Mario Lastra, still noticeably drowsy from the sedative. “And your heir is alive and well.”
“Carmello Lastra’s accusations and lack of family honor should be punished,” said his father. “He shames the church. Shames the outfit. The Accardi family demands justice.”
More whispers mixed with silence. He hated these games in the hierarchy, but it was the life he’d been born into.
He held Isabella’s hand. Her palm was clammy, and he knew she had to be terrified just being there. When she pulled away and stepped forward, he stayed put and didn’t try to stop her.
She addressed the Boss. “My father forced me to marry Klaus. It wasn’t something I ever wanted, but I understand my role in the family.
