Chapter 4
Isabella Corleone walked with loud footsteps through the halls of her family's big house. Her jaw was tightly clenched and her cat-like eyes were narrowed in cold disdain.
How dare her father call for her so disrespectfully after the terrible thing he just did? As if she was just a low soldier who had to obey Don Salvatore without any question! The burning rage inside Isabella was about to boil over.
She reached her father's study very quickly, not even knocking before throwing the doors open hard enough to slam them against the walls.
"You wanted to see me, Father?" she said sharply.
Salvatore did not react to her rude behavior, glancing at her dismissively with cold eyes.
"Isabella. Come, sit down."
"I'd prefer to stand, thanks," she retorted, crossing her arms. "I stand firm on anything that displeases me. Like being kept out of important family business."
One of Don's thick gray eyebrows raised slightly, the only crack in his hard expression. "You'll need to explain yourself, young lady. I'm too old for disrespectful games."
Isabella let out a harsh laugh before she could stop it. "Don't play dumb with me! I'm talking about your ridiculous secret decision to make that snake Alessandro your heir!"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Salvatore stared at her with an icy look that would have frozen a lesser woman. "Watch your tone when speaking about your brother," he warned in a low, dangerous voice.
"Half-brother," Isabella shot back viciously. Clearly, some blood ties meant more than others around here. More than her decades of faithful service, her countless sacrifices for the family.
"You know my reasons as well as I do," Salvatore growled, and for a second Isabella thought she saw regret in his ancient eyes. "That boy has what it takes to be a ruthless leader. He's like his father in that way."
Isabella clenched her jaw, struggling not to angrily respond. For thirty years she had given everything to this family, committed atrocities, and lost her humanity, all because she believed her father would one day let her inherit control as the Corleone heir.
But now, after all of it, Salvatore had rejected her in favor of that snake Alessandro; a suck-up half-breed who would take the first chance to seize full control and cut her out completely.
"I know you think you're doing what's best for this family, Father." Isabella's voice had a razor-sharp edge as she stared him down. "But all I see is something waiting to undo everything we've worked for."
Salvatore leaned back, displeased. "You'd be wise to keep that unhappiness to yourself, baby girl. Alessandro's my choice, end of discussion. Don't make me put you in your place."
Put her in her place? The blatant disrespect and dismissal hit Isabella hard. She saw red, her muscles tensing as the urge to lash out, to make her father feel her anguish, nearly overcame her.
"Is that so?" she managed through gritted teeth when she could speak calmly again. "Well, maybe I've finally seen the reality of this situation."
Salvatore eyed her warily, sensing the danger but foolishly failing to fully understand it. "And what reality is that?"
"That I've spent my whole life trying to live up to impossible expectations!" Isabella's hurt and rage erupted in an unstoppable torrent. "I've sacrificed everything, left bloody pieces of my soul all over this city for you! And what thanks do I get? Tossed aside like trash!"
She was shaking now, furious and terrified at her own outburst, the line she had crossed by lashing out at the Don himself. But some reckless part couldn't stop, not after all these years.
"So if you're going to burn me at the stake no matter how loyal I am, then maybe I don't have to follow any of your rotten rules anymore," she spat, flushed and eyes blazing with outrage.
"Here's reality - you're an ungrateful bastard who doesn't appreciate loyalty even when someone has devoted her life to your twisted plans!"
The deafening silence that followed pressed down heavily until Isabella could barely breathe. Salvatore just stared at her, expression unreadable.
Finally, he let out a low chuckle that raised the hairs on her neck. "I knew you were always the fiery one, girl. Just like your mother."
Isabella's heart stopped as her father rose to his full, imposing height. Step by step, he closed the distance until they were almost nose to nose. An unmistakable glint shone in his ancient black eyes.
"But let me make one thing crystal clear," he rasped in an iron tone. "I gave you life twice - first from your mother's womb, and second by allowing you into this business instead of destroying you before you became a threat."
His rough hand whipped out with unnatural speed for his age, clamping around Isabella's slender throat in a vise grip. She let out a strangled gasp as those merciless eyes bored into her and Salvatore bared his teeth.
"Don't you ever, EVER disrespect me like that again, you ungrateful little bitch! I'll remind you of your place in a way you'll never forget, that's a promise."
Isabella couldn't breathe or think. Survival instincts screamed as panic clawed through her veins, wild and suffocating. Finally, after an eternity, Salvatore released her.
She collapsed in a wheezing, trembling heap at his feet, dark hair covering her face as bitter tears of shame burned her eyes.
"Now get out of my sight before I change my mind about being generous," the Don snarled, towering over her crumpled form. "Maybe a few days rotting in the basement cells will cool off that bratty attitude."
Somehow, through sheer willpower, Isabella found her feet and fled the office on wobbly legs. She didn't stop running, not even when her brother Marco called out in confusion until she had locked herself in her bedroom.
Only then did the sobs come in great, heaving gasps. Isabella curled up in the corner and wept like a wounded animal, harsh cries muffled against her knees as she hugged herself for any comfort.
That was it then. Her father's true cruel nature was finally exposed - heartless, for all his talk about family being sacred. He had never respected her, only saw her as a disappointing part of his bloodline. He had even laid violent hands on her.
Something died inside Isabella at that moment, the last longing for paternal love and approval was finally extinguished forever. There could be no going back, she realized through her misery. Not after that cruel show of power stripped away any lingering love or loyalty.
No, now cold pragmatism and self-preservation reigned. She would survive this, if not by clawing her way up the Corleone ranks, then by bringing their entire rotten empire crashing down around them. Even if it meant dirtying her hands with more blood.