I Married the Wrong Mafia Prince

Chapter 28: Confrontation

Isabella’s POV

I could feel the coldness in the air the second we walked through the door of my house. It wasn’t just the tension between Leandro and my father, Isaac. No, it was the sense that this was about to spiral into something I couldn’t control.

The moment we entered, my father was already standing there, his figure looming ominously in the shadows. His eyes locked onto Leandro, and before either of us could move, he had the gun in his hand, aimed straight at him. I couldn’t even breathe. My chest tightened, and everything around me became a blur.

“You have some nerve, Moretti,” My father said, his voice cold, dripping with disdain. His grip on the gun tightened, his fingers flexing on the trigger. “I should end this right here. Right now.”

Leandro didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. His gaze was unwavering, as if my father wasn’t even a threat to him anymore. He simply stared back with the same bored confidence that I hated, but couldn’t help but feel drawn to.

“If you wanted to kill me, Isaac, you’d already be doing it,” Leandro said, his tone flat, unbothered, and yet somehow taunting. “But you’re not, so let’s get this over with.”

Isaac’s jaw tightened, and for a second, it felt like the room was holding its breath. I looked between them, my stomach churning. The silence was suffocating, the air crackling with unspoken tension.

Then, without warning, Leandro tossed something onto the table. My eyes flicked to the pile of documents that landed with a soft thud.

My father eyed them skeptically, but instead of answering, he slowly lowered the gun — but only slightly. His finger remained dangerously close to the trigger, and I could feel the tension in the room swell with every passing second.

“What’s this?” My father muttered, his eyes narrowing. “You think you can get me with some papers?”

Leandro leaned forward, his voice steady, and his words cutting through the tension like a knife. “You’ve been blind, Isaac. The Contis have been stealing from the D’Angelos for the last three years. All the proof you need is right there in those documents. I’m offering you the truth.”

Isaac’s gaze didn’t falter, his finger still lightly touching the gun. He didn’t want to look weak. He didn’t want to acknowledge Leandro’s words. His pride, his anger, they were all wrapped up in that gun — but for a split second, there was hesitation.

He glanced at the papers but didn’t make any move to pick them up. “This is some kind of trick.”

Leandro didn’t let up. “I don’t play games, Isaac. You’re going to look at it. You’re going to read it. You’ll see everything for yourself. But the choice is yours — you can keep sitting there, pointing your gun at me, or you can do something about it.”

The words hit like a challenge. I saw my father’s jaw tighten again, his patience wearing thin. He looked down at the papers, his gaze flickering between them and Leandro’s calm expression.

Finally, with an irritated sigh, my father moved the gun slightly to the side but kept it close enough to strike at any moment. “You’re lucky I’m even listening to you, Moretti.” He picked up the papers with a rough swipe and started scanning them, his eyes flicking from one line to the next.

I couldn’t look away. I could see my father’s anger, his disbelief fighting with the logic in the documents. Leandro was betting everything on this — risking his life in front of my father, the very man who would stop at nothing to protect his family.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell my father to listen, to stop playing games with my future, but I stayed silent.

After a long moment, my father threw the documents back onto the table, his eyes burning with rage. “This is bullshit. I don’t trust you, Moretti. Not for a second. You think you can just come in here with your lies, and I’ll believe you?”

Leandro didn’t back down. “You don’t have to believe me, Isaac. But you will. You’ll look into it. You’ll find out the truth. And when you do, you’ll see that I’m not lying.”

Isaac’s gaze never left Leandro, and the tension in the room was suffocating. He looked like he wanted to shoot him then and there. But something in Leandro’s tone, in his confidence, held him back — just for a moment.

With a final, disgusted glance, my father shoved the gun back into his waistband. “Fine. I’ll have my PI check into it. But if this is a trick, Moretti, I’ll come for you, and I’ll make sure you regret it. Both of you.”

Leandro didn’t flinch. “Do what you have to do.”

My father’s eyes narrowed one last time, but he said nothing more. Instead, he turned and walked out of the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I was left there, standing in the silence that followed. My heart was still racing, my hands shaking. Leandro had just put himself in the line of fire — again — and I didn’t know if I could handle it anymore.

I stepped forward, my voice shaking with anger and frustration. “Why do you keep doing this, Leandro? Why do you keep betting your life on the line for me?”

Leandro turned to me, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighed, stepping closer. “Because I have no choice, Isabella. I’m not walking away. Not now. Not ever. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe.”

I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but he didn’t let it show. He still had that same fire in him, the fire that made me both afraid and fascinated by him.

But I couldn’t handle the fear anymore. I couldn’t keep watching him risk everything, including his life, for me. My chest tightened with the thought. I had already lost so much, and the thought of losing him, too, felt like it would destroy me.

“Leandro, I can’t lose you. Please, stop making these deals. Stop betting your life. It’s too much.”

He pulled me into his arms, his hands gentle on my back as he kissed the top of my head. “Isabella, you need to trust me. I’m doing this because I love you. And I’ll keep doing it for you. I’ll make sure nothing happens to me. But I need you to trust that I won’t stop fighting for you.”

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tight as I could, even though the fear never stopped twisting in my stomach.

I wanted so badly to believe him.

But I knew: in our world there are no happy endings.