In His Grasp: A Mafia Romance

Chapter 8: Does Anyone Want To Marry Her?



Chapter 8: Does Anyone Want To Marry Her?

Chapter 8: Does Anyone Want to Marry Her?

At the wedding of Chicago's former boss, the place was bustling with guests, particularly from the five major families.

When Isabella arrived, she immediately noticed the security presence had multiplied fivefold from her last visit. Guards patrolled the grounds, and snipers were even positioned on rooftops, keeping a vigilant eye on the situation. Along the windows of the house, bodyguards observed every individual at the event.

Such stringent security measures, Isabella understood, were due to the heavyweight guests in attendance. Any mishap with any of them could spell serious trouble for Emanuele.

But really, this had nothing to do with her. Filled with unease, she wouldn't have come if it weren't for her mother, the only person who truly mattered in her life.

At the entrance, a red carpet was laid out, bordered with scattered rose petals. Gentle music wafted through the space, mixed with the scent of delightful perfumes. The ambiance was calm and serene, inviting a pleasant mood if one could ignore the guns and ammunition present. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

"Oh, Isabella, you look beautiful today!" Grazia approached, giving her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, immediately putting Isabella at ease.

"Let me introduce you. This is my husband, Andrew Lee," Grazia said, pulling her husband over to meet Isabella.

"Isabella, so glad to meet you. I missed the banquet the other day, but Grazia told me all about her new sweetheart sister," Andrew greeted Isabella warmly. They both seemed like outgoing and warm-hearted people.

"Let's go, Isabella, we'll chat with your mom," Grazia said, leading Isabella further inside.

Just then, people in the hall, engaged in conversation, suddenly looked up. Isabella followed their gaze to the second-floor balcony.

It was Emanuele.

Emanuele was specially dressed for the day, wearing a black tailcoat, his hair neatly combed back, revealing his sharply contoured, handsome face. As always, his expression was icy, surveying the crowd below from the second floor like a king high above. Even without speaking, his powerful aura made everyone look up at him involuntarily, their gazes filled with admiration and fear.

Isabella, recalling Emanuele's disrespectful behavior from the previous night, felt a pang of annoyance, her look towards him filled with disdain.

Unbeknownst to her, Emanuele's gaze pierced through the crowd, landing on her.

Isabella was startled and quickly averted her gaze, hoping Emanuele hadn't noticed her earlier expression.

She needed to find her mother and congratulate her on the wedding day.

Of course, Emanuele saw Isabella's annoyed look, whether it was her being upset about being in this situation or his actions towards her last night. But he had to admit, Isabella looked radiant today, like a princess – innocent and noble.

Many people's eyes fell on Isabella, causing Emanuele to frown slightly. For some reason, the way they were eyeing her, like wolves eyeing their prey, irked him.

At that moment, several clerics approached Emanuele. Rocco praised, "Emanuele, you've clearly put a lot of effort into this wedding."

Emanuele's gaze fell upon the crowd: "Of course, I want those Sicilians to know, if they dare to cause trouble on my turf, they'll pay the price!"

"Wow, what do I see here?" Just then, Clark whistled in astonishment. "Emanuele, when did your family gain such a beauty? She's with your sister, I assume you know her?"

His surprise was understandable; he had been a playboy for many years, but a woman of Isabella's caliber was rare. There were many beautiful women, but Isabella's youthful, innocent aura made her stand out.

As everyone looked towards Isabella, Emanuele observed Clark's gleaming eyes. Women rarely escaped the attention of this ladies' man. He would pursue a woman, never for more than three months, before moving on.

"She's my stepsister, the one I mentioned to you. Any of you interested in marrying her?" Emanuele inquired.

While the others were also taken aback, they seemed uninterested in pursuing women and remained silent.

Only Clark raised his hand, "I like her!" His blue eyes fixed on Isabella, shining with excitement, like a hunter locking on his prey.

For some reason, Emanuele felt a twinge of discomfort but didn't show it. He gestured for a waiter to call Isabella up.

At that moment, Isabella, about to greet her mother, was approached by someone. They mentioned Emanuele had requested her presence.

Isabella looked up, and saw Emanuele staring at her, not just him, but several unfamiliar men beside him as well.

In that instant, Isabella felt her blood run cold. Despite her apprehension from Emanuele's words, facing the reality was terrifying.

"I... I need to find my mother. I haven't even given her my blessings," Isabella said, her lips trembling, refusing to go.

However, the response was firm. "Miss Gould, I hope you won't make this difficult."

Isabella was led to the second-floor balcony, feeling the intense scrutiny of Emanuele and the men beside him with every step.

She felt like a showcased object, a wave of shame engulfing her. The suffocating sensation in her throat intensified.

Once upstairs, Emanuele grabbed her shoulders, directing her towards the men.

"This is my stepsister, Isabella Gould."

Isabella looked at them, reluctant to even exchange pleasantries.

These men were notorious, having committed countless heinous acts. She just hoped they wouldn't take an interest in her.

"Isabella, come on, greet everyone," Emanuele said, noticing her reluctance. His hand at her waist gave her a slight pinch.

Isabella, with no choice, weakly greeted the men, "Hello."

"Oh, Emanuele, you've startled my little sweetheart," Clark approached, releasing Emanuele's hand from Isabella's back, then shook her hand before planting a kiss on the back of it.

"Isabella, I'm Clark Campbell, current CEO of the Campbell Group. A pleasure to meet you," he said enthusiastically, still holding her hand.


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