Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Feast
Word Count: ~3,500 words
Two months passed, turning the Castelliano estate into a luxurious prison for Isabella.
Her belly had begun to swell, a neat, round curve that Dominic became utterly obsessed with. Every night, he would return from his brutal meetings, wash the scent of gunpowder and rain from his skin, and slide into the massive bed beside her. He wouldn't speak much, but he would place his large, scarred hand over her abdomen, holding her tight against him until dawn. It was a terrifying paradox—she was cherished like a queen, yet guarded like a maximum-security prisoner.
She had no phone, no internet, and no contact with the outside world. Maya had vanished from her life; Dominic had coldly informed her that Maya had been given a "generous relocation package" to another state to ensure Isabella had no accomplices left in New York.
But the peace of her gilded cage was shattered on a rainy Thursday evening.
"We are having a dinner tonight," Dominic announced as he watched her get dressed in one of the loose, elegant velvet gowns he had purchased for her. "The heads of the Five Families are coming to the estate to ratify a new territory agreement."
Isabella froze, her hand stopping as she brushed her hair. "You want me there? In front of them?"
"You are my woman, Isabella. You carry my child," Dominic said, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as they looked into the mirror. "It is time the Commission sees what belongs to me. It will make them think twice about crossing my borders. They will know what I am fighting to protect."
"It makes me a target," she whispered, her heart quickening.
"I am the target, Bella," Dominic corrected her, his eyes dark and lethal. "You are my heart. And no one touches my heart and lives."
The dining room was suffocatingly tense. The mahogany table was laden with expensive wines, roasted meats, and silver platters, but the atmosphere was thick with hostility. Four older men, the dons of the rival families, sat with their bodyguards standing like statues behind them.
Isabella sat at Dominic’s right hand. She felt like a lamb surrounded by a pack of aging, scarred wolves.
"So, this is the hidden jewel of the Castelliano family," Don Lucchese sneered, his yellowed teeth showing in a mock smile as he looked at Isabella’s visibly pregnant stomach. "A bit young, Dominic. And a servant, if my sources are correct? I thought the Castellianos had higher standards for their bloodline."
Dominic didn't raise his voice. He simply picked up his steak knife, his fingers turning white around the handle. "Your sources are outdated, Lucchese. And if you speak of my woman’s status again, I will use this knife to ensure you never speak at a Commission meeting again."
The table went dead silent. Lucchese raised his hands in a defensive gesture, though his eyes remained venomous.
Dinner proceeded in an uneasy quiet. Isabella couldn't eat; the tension was making her sick. She reached for her glass of sparkling water, needing something to settle her stomach. She took a deep sip.
The water tasted strange. Metallic. Bitter.
She swallowed it before she realized, a sudden, sharp burning sensation flaring in the back of her throat. Within thirty seconds, her stomach cramped violently. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead.
No. No, no, no.
She dropped the crystal glass. It shattered against the mahogany table, water splashing across the white tablecloth.
"Bella?" Dominic’s voice instantly cut through the room, his hand reaching for her as she began to slide down her chair.
"Dominic..." Isabella gasped, her hands clutching her stomach as a wave of agonizing pain ripped through her core. "My stomach... something’s wrong. The water..."
Dominic looked at the shattered glass, then at the pale, sweating face of his woman. His eyes snapped to the servant who had poured the water—a new waiter hired for the evening. The man was already backing toward the exit.
"Poison!" Dominic roared, standing up so violently his chair flipped backward.
In a flash of pure, unadulterated instinct, Dominic pulled his silver Glock from beneath his jacket and fired. The bullet caught the fleeing waiter directly in the back of the head. The man collapsed instantly, blood pooling on the marble floor.
The dining room erupted into chaos. Bodyguards drew their weapons, shouting, thinking an assassination attempt on the Dons had begun.
But Dominic didn't care about the Dons. He dropped his gun, dropping to his knees beside Isabella, who was now writhing on the floor, her face pale as snow, gasping for breath as dark red blood began to stain the velvet of her dress.
"Marco! Get the medical team! Now!" Dominic screamed, his voice cracking, a sound of absolute, frantic terror that none of the mafia bosses had ever heard from the infamous Dominic Castelliano.
May you like
He gathered Isabella into his arms, pulling her tightly against his chest. "Stay with me, Bella. Don't you dare leave me! Hold on to the baby!"
"It hurts, Dominic... it hurts..." she whimpered, her vision fading into darkness as she felt the fragile life inside her slipping away into a sea of pain.
