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Chapter 27: Freedom on His Terms
publish date:
2026-10-31 20:32:34
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365 Days With the Mafia Don: His Five Million Dollar Bride 36: Beneath His Armor
“I said I need to see him, and I am not asking twice.”I didn't wait for the armed guard outside the door to lower his weapon. I shoved my shoulder past the door frame, the heavy mahogany swinging wide before the medical staff could block my path.The room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of a single desk lamp. The surgical team had already been dismissed, leaving the air smelling faintly of antiseptic, sterile gauze, and his familiar cologne.Near the edge of the large mahogany wardrobe, Lorenzo was standing alone. He was stripped to the waist, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as his uninjured hand gripped the edge of the wood to steady himself. He was attempting to press a clean roll of gauze against the fresh bullet wound in his shoulder, his jaw clenched tight in silent agony.The moment my eyes took in the broad expanse of his back, my breath caught violently in my throat.It wasn't just the fresh, ugly red tear of the bullet wound staining his skin. Stretching across his
365 Days With the Mafia Don: His Five Million Dollar Bride 35: The Night the Don Bleed
“Get down! Stay under me, Maya!”Gunfire shattered the dark mountain night, the harsh, relentless sound of high-caliber rounds echoing off the steep canyon walls like thunder.Before a scream could even tear from my throat, Lorenzo’s frame slammed over mine. He shunted me flat against the leather seats, using his broad shoulders and back as a human shield. The thick scent of dark clove smoke and expensive cologne wrapped around me as heavy metal slugs slammed into our reinforced door panels with deafening thuds that rattled my teeth and shook the chassis.“Marco, clear a path!” Lorenzo roared, his deep voice vibrating violently against my chest as he reached into his shoulder holster, pulled out his dark sidearm, and racked the slide.“They've blocked the rear pass, Don Lorenzo!” Marco barked from the front, swerving the heavy vehicle through a shower of sparks while firing his handgun straight through the spiderwebbed windshield. “It's Moretti's hit squad! They pulled two heavy truck
365 Days With the Mafia Don: His Five Million Dollar Bride 34: The Ambush
“Keep your head up, Maya, and do not let go of my hand.”Lorenzo didn't glance at me as he spoke, his voice dropping into a low, heavy baritone that vibrated straight through my bones.The iron elevator doors groaned open, revealing a subterranean fortress carved directly out of solid bedrock. Bright, harsh industrial lights flickered over polished concrete floors, casting sharp shadows across a sprawling underground floor filled with tactical screens, rows of heavily armed security, and a massive mahogany conference table at the center. It was a dark, hidden world operating directly beneath the feet of millions of citizens.My chest tightened, the cold air smelling sharply of expensive cigar smoke, aged liquor, and an underlying scent of lethal threat. I squared my shoulders, smoothed down the front of my dress, and matched Lorenzo’s heavy stride as he led me into the main hall.Dozens of cold, calculating eyes snapped toward us the moment our heels clicked against the concrete. Men
365 Days With the Mafia Don: His Five Million Dollar Bride 33: Welcome to the Underworld
“I am not your prisoner, Lorenzo, and I am done sitting in this chair like an ornament.”Lorenzo didn't answer right away. He slowly capped his silver fountain pen, the click sharp against the quiet study. His storm-gray eyes lifted to mine, cold and unyielding, but I didn't back down. I pulled my laptop off the mahogany side table, snapped it shut, and hugged it tight against my chest.“You agreed to give me space to study, Mrs. De Luca,” Lorenzo rasped low, his deep voice dropping into that dangerous, gravelly register. “You did not agree to wander around the compound whenever you feel like it.”“I am going back to my wing,” I said, my voice steady despite the rapid pulse hammering in my throat. “I have a contract law paper due tomorrow, and I refuse to draft it while you sit across from me glaring at every keystroke.”I turned on my heel before he could issue another command and marched straight out of the door. He didn't chase after me, but the sheer weight of his gaze burned into
365 Days With the Mafia Don: His Five Million Dollar Bride 32: Bound To The Study
The morning after our standoff, I woke up feeling a strange, crackling electricity hum through my veins.The memory of Lorenzo’s hand locked on my hip, the dark heat in his storm-gray eyes, and the sheer desperation behind his possessive growl lingered like a mark on my skin. I had pushed the unyielding Don De Luca until he cracked, and the thrill of it was still making my heart beat too fast.Chloe was downstairs in the kitchen attempting to teach a horrified Marco how to make cinnamon rolls from scratch when a quiet, polite knock sounded at my door.I opened it to find a young housemaid holding a leather desk blotter, a laptop charger, and a brass desk lamp. Behind her stood two guards holding a small, carved mahogany side table.I blinked, taking a step back. “What is all this?"“Don Lorenzo's instructions, Mrs. De Luca,” the maid said timidly, keeping her eyes cast down. “He has ordered your study materials moved downstairs.”“Downstairs?” My brows knit together in confusion. “To
365 Days With the Mafia Don: His Five Million Dollar Bride 31: Are You Jealous?
By the fourth day of Chloe’s residency, the tension in the estate had reached a breaking point.Chloe had discovered the indoor heated pool behind the West Wing, and she spent two hours trying to convince Marco to do a cannonball with her—an interaction I watched from the balcony while trying to muffle my laughter with both hands. Marco had looked like he was facing down an armed militia, standing at absolute attention while politely declining.Lorenzo, on the other hand, had officially run out of patience.It happened around midnight. Chloe had finally crashed, fast asleep in the guest room after a three-hour marathon of reality television and leftover takeout. I sat at my desk in my oversized hoodie, typing a draft of my civil law brief, the screen glowing softly in the dark room.A sharp, authoritative knock rapped against my door.Not Marco's polite tap, not a maid's timid rap. A heavy, commanding knock that could only belong to one man.I didn't answer. I just kept typing, preten
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