Chapter 3 - THE WIDOW’S WEB
We walked behind Damiano, flanked by a dozen heavily armed men, moving toward the grand foyer. The air smelled of cordite and burning wood. Through the grand arches, I saw Isabella. The "shiny lady." She was draped in diamonds and a flawless red silk gown, weeping convincingly into a lace handkerchief as the heads of the Five Families walked through the main doors.
"A tragedy," Isabella sobbed to Don Falcone, an elderly, ruthless man. "An explosion in the study. Damiano... he's gone."
"Is he?" Damiano’s voice boomed through the hall.
Isabella froze. The color drained from her perfectly contoured face as Damiano stepped into the light, completely alive. The five Dons, seasoned killers, immediately recognized the shift in power. Their bodyguards drew their weapons, but Damiano’s men already had the room surrounded.
"Damiano! Thank God!" Isabella cried, trying to recover. She rushed forward, but Damiano raised a hand, stopping her dead in her tracks.
"Save it, Isabella," he growled. He turned to the five Dons. "The Rossi family attempted a decapitation strike tonight. A bomb under my desk. They intended to blame a rival faction and seize control while we burned."
"You have proof of this?" Don Falcone demanded, his eyes narrowing.
Damiano pulled me forward gently. "I have an eyewitness who saw the Rossi enforcer plant it, under her direct orders." He pointed at Isabella.
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Isabella sneered, looking at me and Emma. "You're going to trust a pathetic waitress and a brat over a Mafia princess?"
"That 'brat'," Damiano said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper, "is under my ultimate protection. If you ever speak of her that way again, I will cut out your tongue." He signaled his men. "Take her to the cells. We are at war."
