In His Grasp: A Mafia Romance

Chapter 156: Choose Your Own Way To Die

Chapter 156: Choose Your Own Way to Die

Having just lost her mother and now on the verge of bidding farewell to Emanuele, Isabella watched helplessly as Emanuele faced the threat of death. It brought her unbearable pain. Unfortunately, she had no power. In this storm, she could only hide in a safe corner, knowing that her safety alone was already a great help to Emanuele.

In this moment, Isabella felt like her heart was being sliced into pieces, a continuous pain that threatened to make her collapse. "Emanuele... you must stay safe," Isabella whispered, feeling drained of strength. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find any other words.

Emanuele caressed Isabella's cheek, kissing her lips deeply. Their tongues intertwined, and he plundered the sweet and fragrant breath from her. Isabella responded willingly, kissing him, absorbing the dominating and intense scent emanating from Emanuele, as if she wanted to etch his essence into her mind.

After the kiss, Isabella ran her fingers over Emanuele's jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble, savoring the sensation. Afraid that if she let go, Emanuele would disappear, she held onto him tightly. Emanuele rested his forehead against hers, their eyes meeting. Suddenly, he smiled, breaking the heavy and sorrowful atmosphere around them.

"Don't worry, Isabella. I'll be fine. I can't bear the thought of another man having you," Emanuele teased.

Isabella, originally in sorrow, felt a surge of anger at his words. In the midst of such a critical situation, how could he still think about such things? Did he see her only as someone with an attractive figure and nothing else?

Her eyes, once filled with sorrow, now sparkled with fury. "If you really die, I'm only twenty-two. Am I not allowed to be with other men? You're dead, and you still want to control me?"

"You dare!" Emanuele's hand reached Isabella's neck, his fingers tracing her pulse. Her delicate neck seemed as if it could be easily snapped by him. Despite the circumstances, she still managed to provoke him with such words. Yet, seeing her shift from sadness to anger, Emanuele thought it might be better this way. He didn't want to see her in pain. If he had to choose, he'd prefer Isabella angry over seeing her sad and in tears.

Emanuele held Isabella close, cradling her in his lap, his hands running over her back.

The girl's back appeared delicate, especially when compared to his broad palm, it seemed so fragile. He caressed Isabella as one would stroke a cat. Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

"Isabella, you know our game isn't over yet, so I won't die easily. Don't even think about finding another man after this. If I die, I'll instruct James to kill you so you can join me in heaven," Emanuele spoke, a wicked grin on his face.

Isabella couldn't help but laugh at Emanuele's words. "You selfish man, dragging me even in death? But Emanuele, do you really think you can go to heaven after killing so many people? You're more likely to end up in hell."

"That's fine. I'll drag you to hell then," Emanuele retorted.

Isabella was infuriated by Emanuele's words. Her chest heaved, breath rapid, and her hands clenched into fists. Unable to contain her frustration, she threw a punch at Emanuele's chest.

Of course, Emanuele's chest muscles were firm, and the pain from the punch was felt only by Isabella herself. She had been worried about Emanuele's safety, fearing she might never see him again, and even contemplating staying. Now, she wished to leave without looking back.

James knocked on the door, announcing, "Boss, everything is ready. We can leave now."

Isabella immediately got up from Emanuele's lap and picked up her backpack. "I'm leaving." Her reluctance to part had disappeared, replaced by a determination to go.

Watching Isabella's departing figure, not showing a hint of nostalgia, Emanuele frowned slightly, feeling a bit dissatisfied. However, he quickly smiled. This was the effect he wanted. Rather than witnessing Isabella tearfully clinging to him, he preferred her leaving like this. He deliberately provoked Isabella because he knew it would make her resolute about leaving.

As she walked out with James, disappearing from his view, Emanuele's frown deepened, but soon he burst into laughter. This was exactly what he wanted. Provoking Isabella would ensure she wouldn't lose sleep worrying about him when she reached Italy. Even if he lost this war and, by some misfortune, lost his life, Isabella might not be as devastated.

Although Emanuele's thoughts were selfish, not wanting Isabella to find another man and even contemplating dragging her into death with him, deep down, he still wished for her happiness, even if it meant without him. This sudden selfless sentiment surprised even Emanuele himself.

On the other side, Isabella, escorted by James and the guards, arrived at the airport. After boarding the private jet, she felt a bit safer.

Watching the ground below gradually blur until the entire city became a distant shadow, Isabella's heart was filled with mixed emotions. She couldn't comprehend her own feelings. She had been eager to distance herself from Emanuele before, but now that she had actually left him, she couldn't find joy within.

"Ma'am, take some rest. When you wake up after a good sleep, we'll be in Italy," Tony said to Isabella.

They all knew about Isabella losing her mother and now having to leave her husband. Their hearts couldn't help but feel a bit more sympathetic towards her. Such a young age, and she had already gone through so much. However, in the world of the Mafia, these experiences were inevitable. Watching an ordinary person being involuntarily dragged into this conflict made Tony, like James, feel a sense of pity. He wished for this war to end soon.

Tony, like James, desired to join the fight, but Emanuele wouldn't allow it. Protecting the mistress was their duty.

After Isabella left, Emanuele went to the dungeon where Madilyn was being held. Madilyn, seeing Emanuele's arrival, immediately assumed a defensive posture. A few days ago, Emanuele had questioned her briefly, but today, she sensed something off about him.

He exuded an overwhelming sense of hostility, like a devil. Madilyn suspected that Emanuele might kill her. As he approached, Madilyn, half-kneeling on the ground, could only see his shiny leather shoes from her perspective.

She had to tilt her neck to look up at the towering man. The dungeon's dim lighting obscured his features, but his words were crystal clear.

"I allow you to choose a method of death."