Isabel sat still like she had been turned to stone by the proclamation which the Mafia lord had delivered in his hard, uncompromising tones. Only her harsh breathing disrupted the ir around her. She knew that Van Dyke could not be won over or threatened. Not till she had executed her plan at any rate.
Turning her head, her thin white strands of hair moved as she swung to glare at Roxanne. Her gaze said it all.
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