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Chapter 127
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2025-05-10 15:06:30
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Bound To The Mafia Chapter 128
EMILIOThe report comes in just after two a.m.—short, frantic, and laced with fear.She’s alive.Of course she is.I sip my coffee slowly, the bitter liquid grounding me in the stillness of my hotel room. The lights are off, except for the eerie blue flicker of monitors in front of me—security feeds, social media threads, encrypted messages looping in real time. All eyes on Morretti’s estate, and none of them mine. Not directly.The man I sent wasn't supposed to kill her. That was never the plan. Death is final. It ends things. And I'm not interested in endings. Not yet.He was meant to scare her. Shake her. Remind her that she isn’t untouchable, no matter how many armed guards Luca wraps her in. Just a ghost in the night, a whisper of threat she’d carry with her into the altar.But the idiot panicked. Let his hand slip. Collateral damage, they’d call it. A shallow stab wound that could’ve been deeper, blood spilled that wasn’t meant to be spilled. Unfortunate, y
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 127
ISADORA The estate’s marble floors gave way to dewy grass, soft beneath my bare feet but too cold, too damp—like even the earth wanted to warn me off. The night air hit sharp, slicing through the silk of my gown and skin like a blade dipped in memory.I needed to breathe. But all I could do was burn.My fingers shook. My chest felt too tight to hold air. So I went to the only place that had ever felt real here—the garden.Fairy lights still shimmered in the trees, soft and gold, like they hadn’t witnessed death wrapped in photo paper hours ago.Near the fountain, Laura and Rafael stood close—too close. Their heads bent toward each other like a secret was dangling between their lips.Laura saw me first. Her mouth parted, eyes wide. Rafael’s jaw tensed. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t give them the dignity of a nod, not even a glare. I walked past them like smoke—drifting, shapeless, done with being held.I collapsed into one of the garden chairs. Cold iron met my spi
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 126
LUCAShe looked like vengeance dressed in silk. Wrath with a pulse. My bride, my ruin, standing there in the golden light of dawn like she'd been forged in it.And I’d done this.I’d let her find it.Not because I wanted her to hurt—God, never that—but because I underestimated the one thing I should’ve worshipped from the beginning: her will.“You weren’t supposed to see that photo,” I’d said like a damn fool.And she shot back, “Yeah? Well, I did. And now I want the truth.”Of course she did.Isadora never begged for peace.She took it.Or burned the world down trying.I stepped forward, but she held her ground like a queen on her battlefield. No flinch. No fear. Her eyes were wild, red-rimmed, furious—and alive.“You want the truth?” I asked quietly. “Fine. I’ll give it to you, Princess. But once I do, there’s no crawling back into the dark. There’s no pretending you can unsee any of it.”Her voice didn’t waver. “I’m not the one pretending anymore.”
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 125
ISADORAThe rehearsal dinner was golden.Candlelight kissed the rims of wine glasses, soft music floated like silk through the garden, and laughter echoed in the air like the world had never broken me. For the first time in weeks, I let myself breathe. No suspicion. No shadow. Just tonight.Luca kissed my shoulder before the toast, leaned in and murmured, “You’re glowing, Princess.” And for once, I didn’t roll my eyes. I let him touch me. I let the warmth soak into my skin like I hadn’t been cold for days.Tomorrow, I’d be a bride.Tonight, I was free.I danced with my father. Took tequila shots with Laura—yes, even she managed a smile that wasn’t forced. Rafael spun me once beneath the fairy lights and said, “You’re trouble,” with that crooked grin of his that made me laugh like I hadn’t buried pain under my ribs.For two hours, I let it be real.No questions.No weight.No doubt.But the moment I walked through the tall doors of the east wing—shoe
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 124
LAURAThe rooftop bar was closed at this hour, but Rafael didn’t need permission to occupy a space. He owned every room he entered, even one perched above a city still asleep.He was already there, leaning against the railing like it might collapse under the weight of what he was holding back. Hair tousled, black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, that brooding, unreadable look on his face that used to piss me off—and now made my mouth dry.“You’re late,” he said without looking at me.I didn’t rush to close the distance. I took my time, each step a silent declaration.“And you’re still a control freak,” I replied, coming to stand between his legs as he pulled me in, no hesitation. His hands slid to my waist like they belonged there. Because lately, they did.He kissed me—not softly. Like he needed to forget what we were doing. What we were risking. Like I was the only place he could breathe.When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead against mine. “She s
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 123
ISADORA Luca laughed at something Rafael said, the low rumble of it curling around the hallway walls and crawling under my skin. I paused at the archway, watching the two of them with narrowed eyes. The study was awash in golden light—books, whiskey glasses, the faint scent of cigars and secrets. Luca’s posture was relaxed, his hand sweeping casually as he poured a drink. Rafael leaned against the desk, arms crossed, smirking. Like nothing had ever shifted between them. But I remembered. I remembered Luca storming into that garden, face thundercloud-dark. I remembered Rafael's stare—tight-lipped, unreadable. Whatever truce they’d shaken hands on, it wasn’t clean. So why did they act like it was? The door creaked as I stepped back. I didn’t want them seeing me. Not yet. Not when my head buzzed with questions they both refused to answer. Later, when we were alone in the bedroom, I tried to press him gently. “You and Rafael seem... good ag
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 122
LUCAThe call came at dawn.I was half-dressed, shirt slung over my shoulder, staring out the window of my office while the city below yawned itself awake. A steaming espresso sat untouched on the table. Something in my gut twisted before I even touched the phone. Instinct. That cursed, nagging thing I’d learned never to ignore.Rafael’s name lit the screen.I answered with a clipped, “What?”There was silence. Then: “She’s gone.”Everything stilled.“What the fuck do you mean, ‘gone’?” My voice didn’t rise, it didn’t need to. The sharp edge in it could slice steel.Rafael exhaled. “Bianca. She was ambushed—two blocks from the safehouse. Three shots to the chest. Clean. Professional.”My jaw locked. The room tilted for a second.“Where’s the body?”“Cremated,” he said, voice low. “Locals were already on scene by the time our men arrived. We pulled security footage. Emilio’s men. There’s no doubt.”I closed my eyes. Three seconds. That’s all I allow
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 121
EMILIOThe man across from me was trembling, and not from the cold.I liked that.I lit a cigarette, the tip glowing like a dying star. The smoke curled upward, slow and deliberate, a quiet reminder that time was never on anyone’s side but mine.“She’s outlived her purpose,” I said simply, flicking ash into a crystal tray.Santos swallowed hard. “You’re sure you want to—?”My eyes snapped to his, and he flinched.“You questioning me, Santos?”“No, sir. Never.” He straightened, pretending he had a spine. “Just… she’s been with us a long time. Bianca’s—”“—a liability,” I cut in, calm as ice. “She thinks sleeping with secrets makes her safe. But when loyalty starts to waiver, the only thing keeping someone alive is their silence.”I stood, smoothing the sleeves of my jacket. “She knows too much. She talks to the wrong people. She’s already aligned herself with Morretti. You really think I’m going to wait for her to slip a blade between my ribs?”Santo
Bound To The Mafia Chapter 120
ISADORA The garden was silent again, but something had shifted—warped. The kind of silence that came before a storm with teeth. Two weeks. That’s all I had left before I walked down an aisle with a man whose promises were carved in blood and devotion. Two weeks before I became Isadora Morretti in front of the world. I should’ve felt safe. Certain. But all I could feel was the slow, suffocating weight of everything we didn’t know tightening around my chest like a corset I couldn’t breathe in. Luca hadn’t let go of my hand. His grip wasn’t gentle—but it wasn’t cruel either. It was possessive. A silent vow wrapped in skin and bone: you’re mine, and I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you from me. We walked back inside without speaking. Rafael was gone—smart. He knew Luca wouldn’t let the next conversation end in words. And if I wasn’t careful, the next time they stood in the same room, it’d end with a body. Two weeks. I stared at the
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