Mafia's possession

u. We're family." Luca glanced around, ensuring no one was watching. "Alright, but not here. Follow me." He led her through a series of back alleys until they reached a small, dingy apartm

re out how to confront Marco without raising suspicion. The opportunity came sooner than she expected. Marco cornered her one evening, his expression tense. "We need to talk, Isabella." Izzy feigned ignorance, following him to a secluded area. "What's going on, Marco?" He turned to face her, his eyes cold. "I know you've been snooping around. You think I haven't noticed?" Izzy's heart raced, but she kept her voice steady. "I don't know what you're talking about." Marco stepped closer, his voice a low growl. "Don't play dumb with me. I've seen the way you look at Enzo, the way you're always watching. You're up to something, and I'm going to find out what." Izzy's mind raced, searching for a way out. "You're paranoid, Marco. I'm just trying to do my job." He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising. "You better hope that's true. Because if I find out you're a rat, you'll regret ever stepping foot in this place." Izzy yanked her arm free, glaring at him. "Get your hands off me, Marco." He sneered, stepping back. "Watch yourself, Isabella. This is your only warning." As he walked away, Izzy took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She needed to act fast. Marco was onto her, and if he discovered her true identity, it would be game over. She decided to take a risk. That night, she slipped out of the club and made her way to a nearby payphone. She dialed her FBI contact's number, her voice hushed as she relayed what she had found. "Marco is the mole. I have proof. But we need to move quickly. He's getting suspicious." Her contact's response was immediate. "Good work, Izzy. We'll set up a sting operation. But you need to stay safe. Don't do anything that could blow your cover." "I'll be careful," she promised before hanging up. The next few days were a blur of preparation and anxiety. Izzy continued to play her role, acting as if nothing had changed. She watched Marco closely, noting his every move. The tension in the club was palpable, the air thick with suspicion. Finally, the night of the sting arrived. Izzy positioned herself near Marco, ready to act. The plan was simple: catch him in the act of passing information. The FBI would be waiting, ready to swoop in. As the club buzzed with its usual energy, Marco made his move. He slipped away from the crowd, heading to the private room where he conducted his secret communications. Izzy followed at a