Chapter 4 4

Isabella POV

The heavy oak doors clicked open, and the temperature in the study seemed to drop. Billie stepped aside, ushering Celine into the lion's den.

Celine wore a simple, unadorned white dress. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her pale face, and her doe eyes were wide with manufactured terror. She looked exactly like what she wanted them to see: a fragile, innocent lamb dragged before the wolves.

The moment she crossed the threshold, her eyes darted to me. She let out a soft, broken gasp, her expression twisting into a mask of profound guilt and sorrow, before she turned her gaze to the man sitting behind the mahogany desk.

Her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the cold marble floor right in front of my father, burying her face in her hands as violent sobs racked her slender frame.

"Uncle Adrian," she wept, her voice muffled and trembling. "Please... you have to believe me."

My mother, ever the protector of her flock, immediately stepped forward. The maternal instinct Elizabeth Wolfe harbored for the orphaned girl overrode her initial suspicion. She knelt beside Celine, placing a comforting hand on her shaking shoulder.

"Speak, Celine," my father commanded. His voice was a low rumble, devoid of its earlier explosive rage, but heavy with the absolute authority of a Don. He leaned forward, his one good arm resting on the desk. "Tell me what happened with Daniel Marino."

Celine lifted her tear-streaked face. "He... he wouldn't leave me alone," she choked out, her fingers gripping the fabric of her white dress. "Ever since the engagement, he kept cornering me. He sent me letters, whispered things when no one was looking. I told him no! I told him he belonged to Izzy, that he was betraying our family. But he wouldn't listen. He said he was obsessed."

She paused, letting out a ragged breath, her eyes locking onto my father's. "He said if I didn't run away with him, he would ruin me. But I would never betray Izzy. I would never betray you. My father died taking a bullet for this family! How could I ever dishonor his sacrifice?"

It was a masterclass in manipulation. She had weaponized the ghost of her dead father, striking the one vulnerability Adrian Wolfe possessed: his guilt over the loyal Soldier who had saved his life.

I watched my father's jaw clench. The harsh lines around his eyes softened marginally. The memory of blood and sacrifice was a powerful currency in our world.

"That *bastardo*," my mother hissed, her eyes flashing with renewed, venomous hatred for Daniel. She pulled Celine into a protective embrace. "He is a madman. He tried to use this sweet girl to justify his own cowardice."

The trial was over. Celine had won their hearts back. She buried her face in my mother's shoulder, and for a fraction of a second, her eyes met mine. There was no triumph in them, only a desperate plea for me to buy the act.

I didn't just buy it; I was going to use it to bury her.

I stepped away from the shadows, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "Papa, Mama," I said, my voice thick with emotion but laced with a sudden, steely resolve. "I believe Celine. But the Outfit won't."

The room went still. My father looked at me, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Explain, Izzy."

"Daniel shouted his lies in our halls. The servants heard. The guards heard. By tomorrow, the whispers will spread through Chicago," I said, walking slowly toward the center of the room. "They will say Daniel left me because Celine tempted him. They will call her a whore who seduced her sister's fiancé."

Celine flinched violently, her eyes widening in genuine panic.

"We cannot let them ruin her reputation," I continued, looking down at Celine with a perfectly crafted expression of sisterly devotion. "And we must cut off Daniel's obsession permanently. There is only one way to protect her and prove to the entire city that she belongs to the Wolfe family."

I turned to my father, holding his gaze. "Marry her to Marco."

The silence that followed was absolute, heavy enough to crush bone.

Marco was one of our most ruthless Caporegimes. He ran the docks. He was fiercely loyal, brutally efficient, and nearly twenty years older than Celine. He was a man of violence, not a stepping stone to the throne.

All the color drained from Celine's face. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The gilded cage had just slammed shut around her.

My father stared at me. The surprise in his eyes slowly morphed into a dark, profound respect. He wasn't looking at his heartbroken little girl anymore; he was looking at a Mafia Princess who understood the ruthless arithmetic of power. It was a flawless move. It protected the girl, silenced the rumors, and bound a loyal Capo even closer to the family.

"She is right," my mother breathed, standing up slowly. She looked at me with a mixture of awe and a chilling pride. "It is the perfect solution. No one will dare speak ill of a Capo's wife. And Daniel Marino will know she is forever out of his reach."

My father stood up from his desk. He walked around the heavy mahogany wood and stopped in front of Celine, who was still kneeling on the floor, paralyzed by shock.

"Isabella has spoken with the wisdom of our blood," Adrian Wolfe declared, his voice echoing with the finality of a judge's gavel. He looked down at the trembling girl. "This is the best protection we can offer you, Celine. It honors your father's memory and secures your place in our world. Do you accept the family's arrangement?"

It wasn't a question. It was a Don's decree.

To refuse meant admitting she had lied. To refuse meant exile, or worse. Celine was trapped in the very web of innocence she had spun.

She looked at me, and for the first time, the mask slipped. I saw the raw, suffocating terror in her eyes. I offered her a small, tragic smile.

"I..." Celine stammered, her whole body shaking as she bowed her head to the marble floor. "I accept. Thank you... Uncle Adrian, for protecting me."