"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.
