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Chapter 152
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2025-08-10 04:09:47
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A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas Chapter 154
NO ROOM FOR SAINTS"In war, there are no innocent moves. Only necessary ones."~ ALEXANDRO'S POV ~The whiskey tasted like defeat.I sat across from Mario at our usual table in the back of Luciano's, watching him light another Cuban while I pretended to care about quarterly reports. The restaurant was empty except for us and the staff who knew better than to listen."You look like shit," Mario said, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. "When's the last time you slept?""Sleep's overrated.""So is martyrdom." He leaned back in his chair, studying me with those sharp blue eyes that missed nothing. "Let me guess. Princess is still giving you the cold shoulder after the warehouse clusterfuck?"I took another drink instead of answering immediately. Mario knew everything about my world…had been my right hand through every war, every betrayal, every bloody decision that built this empire. If anyone understood the weight I carried, it was him."She's been sneaking out," I said finally."Can y
A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas Chapter 153
GHOST PROTOCOL"Some ghosts haunt houses. Others haunt lives. The worst ones haunt the truth."~ LAUREN'S POV ~The Storm Media offices felt different when you knew they were built on lies.I sat at my office desk, window vine drawn up, staring at my computer screen but not really seeing it. Around me, the familiar chaos of deadline day buzzed on—phones ringing, keyboards clicking, the coffee machine grinding in the break room. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.Sounds that used to make me feel like I belonged somewhere."Lauren?"I looked up to find Vanessa hovering on my doorstep, holding two cups of coffee and wearing her concerned-friend face."You look like hell," she said, setting one cup down in front of me."Thanks. That's exactly what every girl wants to hear.""I'm serious. You've been off all week. Ever since..." She glanced around, then lowered her voice. "Ever since that warehouse story broke. The one about Castello."I picked up the coffee, grateful for something to do with m
A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas Chapter 152
A BROTHER'S SHADOW"Some men spend their whole lives trying to step out of shadows that were never really there."~ LEONARDO JNR'S POV ~The call came at 4 AM. I was already awake, staring at the ceiling of my shitty studio apartment in Queens, counting water stains and wondering how I had ended up here."He knows," Pedro said without preamble. My fixer never wasted words. "Your brother knows you've been sniffing around the shipping manifests again."I sat up, running a hand through hair that hadn't been washed in three days. "How much does he know?""Enough. He's got people watching you now. Real ones, not the babysitters he used to send."I laughed, but it came out hollow. "Babysitters. Christ, is that what he called them?""Leo….""I'm not a fucking child, Pedro. I'm twenty-eight years old. I've got an MBA from Wharton and three years of real experience in logistics. But to Alexandro, I'm still just Leonardo junior fuck-up son who can't be trusted with anything important."Pedro wa
A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas Chapter 151
DON'T LET ME BE RIGHT"The worst part about being paranoid is when you turn out to be right."~ ALEXANDRO'S POV ~I sat in my office staring at screens full of surveillance footage. Frame by frame, I watched Lauren walk into that warehouse. Watched her pause at the door. Watched her disappear inside.My hands were steady as I rewound the tape. They'd been steady when I pulled the trigger too. But inside, I was coming apart.She'd gone there alone. After everything, after all my warnings about Viktor, about Julian, about the kind of people who wanted to hurt her just to get to me—she had walked straight into their trap.And I couldn't decide if I was more angry at her for being reckless or at myself for pushing her to it.The whiskey burned going down. Second glass. Maybe third. I had lost count.On the screen, Lauren stumbled out of the warehouse. Even in the grainy footage, I could see the way she held herself. Like something inside her had broken.I fast-forwarded to the part whe
A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas Chapter 150
SCARS THAT SPEAK"Some wounds are visible. Others cut so deep they change the shape of your soul."~ LAUREN'S POV ~The penthouse felt like a mausoleum.I sat in the passenger seat of Alexandro's Maserati, watching the city blur past through rain-streaked windows, and said nothing. The silence stretched between us like an abyss, filled with all the words we weren't saying.He kept glancing at me. I could feel his eyes tracking the bruise blooming across my cheekbone, the torn sleeve of my coat, the way I held my left arm too carefully against my ribs."Lauren…..""Don't."My voice came out flat. Dead. Like someone had reached inside my chest and turned off the power.He shut up.The elevator ride to his floor lasted forever. Thirty-seven floors of suffocating quiet, the only sound the mechanical hum of cables and my heartbeat thundering in my ears. When the doors finally opened, I walked straight to the guest bathroom without looking back."Lauren, we need to talk about what happe
A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas Chapter 149
TRAPPED"Some traps are baited with hope, others with desperation. The cruelest ones use both."~ LAUREN'S POV ~The warehouse looked like a wound in the city, jagged and pulsing with dread. My breath misted in the freezing air as I paused at the side entrance, my fingers twitching around the small canister of pepper spray in my coat pocket. I shouldn't be here. I knew it. And yet…The message had been impossible to ignore:"Come alone. If you want more proof that Ethan's been feeding Julian everything…..come now."My heart had pounded as I read it, my gut screaming it was a trap. But what if it wasn't? What if this was the only shot to expose the man tearing Alexandro's empire apart from the inside? What if I could finally matter… not just to him, but in this war?I slipped through the cracked metal door.The interior smelled like mildew and burnt oil. Concrete walls closed in like prison bars, shadows stretching unnaturally wide. I moved quietly, ducking past old crates and rust
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