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Chapter 152: Donna Moretti
publish date:
2026-05-19 16:00:47EMILIA POV
I couldn't just sit there. I couldn't pretend to be the good little mafia wife waiting at home while Axel bared his throat to the Commission—the five families, the absolute apex of power and brutality in New York.
Isabella had tried to pace the hospital room with me, her voice trembling beneath her bandages. "He’ll be fine, Em.
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Biker's Forbidden Desire Chapter 158: Power's Temptation
AXEL POVEmilia came home late. Again.The grandfather clock in the hallway was chiming midnight when the heavy front doors clicked shut. I was sitting in the dim light of our bedroom, rocking Marco. He was eight months old, teething violently, his cheeks flushed a brilliant, feverish red. He’d been crying for hours—sharp, inconsolable shrieks that tore at my chest because no matter how I paced, no matter how much chilled teething gel I used, I couldn't give him peace."Hey," a quiet voice whispered from the doorway.I looked up. Emilia stood framed by the threshold, her charcoal-grey power suit pristine, though her eyes carried the heavy glaze of exhaustion. "Is he okay?""Teething," I said, my voice rough and clipped. "Been crying for hours.""Let me try."She stepped forward, dropping her designer leather bag onto the armchair. She reached down, taking Marco from my arms. The moment he shifted into her hold, her posture softened. She began to sway, a slow, hypnotic rhythm, humming
Biker's Forbidden Desire Chapter 153: The Transition
AXEL POVI couldn't believe what had just happened.Emilia was the Don. Donna Moretti. Head of the family. The absolute epicenter of the universe I had spent the last year bleeding to protect her from, and she had just walked right up to the altar and volunteered for the sacrifice.The Commission left the restaurant shortly after, entirely satisfied. They had gotten exactly what they wanted: control, compliance, and stability. And they had gotten it by weaponizing my wife’s desperation.Ricci approached me as the heavy oak doors clicked shut, his face a mask of absolute bewilderment. "Don—I mean, Mr. Moretti. What are your orders?""I don't have orders, Ricci," I said, the words tasting like lead on my tongue. "I'm not the Don anymore.""Then who do I report to?"I nodded toward the front of the room, where Emilia stood staring out the rain-streaked window. "Her. Donna Moretti."He looked at her, his eyes darting back to me,
Biker's Forbidden Desire Chapter 152: Donna Moretti
EMILIA POVI couldn't just sit there. I couldn't pretend to be the good little mafia wife waiting at home while Axel bared his throat to the Commission—the five families, the absolute apex of power and brutality in New York.Isabella had tried to pace the hospital room with me, her voice trembling beneath her bandages. "He’ll be fine, Em. He’s smart. He knows how to speak their language.""And if they refuse to let him walk?" I had asked, my voice rising. "What then?"She had no answer. Because we both knew the truth: the Commission didn't just let people retire. You left that table in a casket, or you didn't leave it at all.
Biker's Forbidden Desire Chapter 150: Return
Emilia POVTwenty-four hours.It felt like twenty-four years. I hadn't slept, hadn't eaten; I just sat in that hospital bed, my eyes glued to the door until they burned. I was willing him to walk through it. I was praying for a miracle while bracing for a casket.Isabella had woken up an hour ago. Groggy, confused, her head wrapped in white gauze."Marco?" she’d whispered."Still gone," I told her. We both cried then, the sound of two broken women echoing in the sterile room.Then, at 3 AM, the handle turned.Axel walked in. He looked like he’d crawled out of the mouth of hell. He was covered in blood, splattered across his face, staining his shirt, crusted under his fingernails. Always blood with him. It was his shadow.But then I saw the bundle in his arms."MARCO!"I tried to lunge forward, but my broken ribs hissed in protest, pinning me back. Axel didn't wait. He crossed the room in two strides and laid him in my arms.I collapsed over my son. I tucked my face into his neck, brea
Biker's Forbidden Desire Chapter 151: The Choice
AXEL POVThe digital clock on the dashboard flickered to 4:00 AM.The city never slept, but at this hour, it breathed heavily, a monster momentarily at rest. I drove aimlessly through the empty, rain-slicked streets of Manhattan, the silence inside the car a stark contrast to the ringing in my ears. The scent of copper, gunpowder, and cheap warehouse dust was still trapped in the fabric of my clothes. I had saved my son, but the look in Emilia’s eyes when she threw my sins back in my face had cut deeper than any bullet ever could.“You named him after my brother... and all you’ve done is put him in the same grave.”Her voice haunted me, vibrating against my skull. She was right. Marco had died because of the crown. And now, three days into his life, our son had nearly suffered the exact same fate.I found myself pulling through the iron gates of the mansion. I didn't want to be here, but my feet carried me to the office anyway. Vincent’s old office. The seat of the Moretti empire. I s
Biker's Forbidden Desire Chapter 149: The Hunt
Axel POVSeventy-two hours. That was all I had.I called an emergency meeting at midnight. My captains filed into the office: Ricci, Torrino, Sal, and Greco. The air was thick with tension."They want everything," I told them. "Brooklyn, Queens, ten million, and my resignation.""You can't give them that," Ricci said. "The family will fall apart.""I’m not giving them anything," I replied. "We find them. We hit them. We take Marco back."We pulled up maps and surveillance. The hit was professional. They knew the route Isabella took, which meant they had inside information. Someone was watching us.Torrino’s tech guy sent a breakthrough: a partial plate from a black SUV. We traced it through three shell companies until we hit a name: Bonetti Real Estate Holdings.The Bonettis. I’d embarrassed them weeks ago. This was their revenge."They have a warehouse in industrial Queens," Torrino said. "It’s isolated. Perfect f
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