My Second Marriage with the Mafia Kingpin novel Chapter 499

Chapter 499: Not Now, Of All Times.

"Dad, what the hell is going on?!"

Isabella harrumphed as she stormed into the mansion. The moment she stepped inside, all she saw were men.

They were everywhere.

Many of her father’s men—faces she recognized but rarely saw around their main residence—were scattered throughout the lobby. Some stood near the doors, while others occupied the couches and corners of the room.

Isabella slowed, her brows knitting together.

Why were all these people here?

"Sweetheart." Carmella quickly hurried toward her daughter and clasped her hand. "Why don’t you go upstairs and settle into your room first, hmm?"

"Mom," Isabella frowned deeply, glancing around before her eyes landed on her father. "How could you not tell me anything? Do you even know where these men picked me up?!"

Marshal remained seated on the couch. The only reaction he gave her was a frown.

Isabella’s jaw tightened.

"Dad!"

Her voice echoed across the lobby, finally drawing a few glances from the men around them.

Still, Marshal barely reacted.

"What am I, a decoration?!" she snapped. "Why is no one telling me what’s going on?"

"Isabella," Carmella whispered urgently. "Lower your voice."

But that only infuriated her further.

Isabella swatted her mother’s hand away and marched toward Marshal. She stopped directly in front of him, glaring down at her father.

"I did what you told me to do and tolerated June," she said through clenched teeth. "I stayed there even when I didn’t want to because you told me it was necessary."

Only then did Marshal slowly lift his eyes to her.

"And?"

Isabella blinked.

"And?" she repeated incredulously. "Because of what you told me, I got into an accident! And then your men suddenly showed up and dragged me out like I was some criminal! They wouldn’t tell me anything. Mom wouldn’t tell me anything. And now I come back to this?"

"Isabella, the accident was minor," Marshal answered, exercising what little patience he had left.

But that didn’t appease her.

She threw an arm toward the men scattered around the mansion.

"What is happening?"

The answer came quickly and casually from one of them. "Nothing that concerns you."

"Hah!" Isabella scoffed, whipping her head toward the man. "What?"

"Isabella." Marshal leaned back against the couch, his expression already showing signs of irritation. "Listen to your mother and go to your room."

Isabella stared at him.

For a moment, she genuinely couldn’t believe what she had heard.

Marshal had always treated her like this, but recently, she couldn’t help wondering if he truly intended to let her inherit the family as he had promised.

Wasn’t this supposed to be the time when Marshal started teaching her about their operations?

"Doesn’t concern me?" she echoed. "I’m your daughter, Dad. Am I supposed to sit upstairs like some idiot while armed men surround our rest house? Isn’t it about time I learned more about the family?"

The second those words rolled off her tongue, she noticed several men stifling their laughter.

Isabella froze.

"What are you laughing at?" she growled. "Do you want to die?"

"Isabella." Marshal’s tone hardened. "You wanted to know why my men picked you up? Things are complicated right now, so I had you brought somewhere secure. Otherwise, whoever is behind the attacks on our family might take you and send your head back to me."

Her breath hitched.

"Don’t make me repeat myself, Isabella," he warned.

This time, his voice carried a tone he had never used on her before.

Marshal glanced at Carmella.

"Take her to her room."

"Yes, dear." Carmella sighed heavily as she approached Isabella and tugged at her arm. "Isabella, just listen to your father."

But Isabella didn’t budge.

She glared at her father before sweeping her gaze across the other men.

She had never liked her father’s men, especially those who held high positions in the family. But now, she could clearly see the amusement and mockery in their eyes.

They were looking at her as though she were some kind of laughingstock.

"What’s so funny?" she snapped.

SLAM!

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