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2026-06-12 00:32:03
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Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 54
Alexander Francesca was trouble. She had always been trouble, long before Isabella, long before the empire became what it was now, long before I had enough power to mistake danger for control. She was the kind of woman who liked information, liked leverage, liked knowing exactly where to place herself so that other people would have to answer to her. I had learned that about her early, and I had spent years believing I had put enough distance between us to keep her where she belonged. I was wrong. Elara sat on the edge of the bed with her arms crossed, her expression hard and alert. The moment we got upstairs, she had gone quiet in the way that told me she was thinking fast and deciding whether to trust me or fight me. I could not blame her for either reaction. “Tell me what is going on,” she said. I stayed standing for a moment, then exhaled and sat beside her. “Francesca and I were involved before Isabella,” I said. “She was part of my life before the empire was clean enough
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 53
Elara The mansion felt different when we came back. It was still large, still polished, still guarded at every entrance, but the atmosphere had changed. The staff had been reduced, and the hallways felt less crowded because of it. Alexander said it was for security. I knew there was more to it than that. He was pulling back in ways he had never done before, cutting away anything that could become another risk, another threat, another point of control that might be used against us. He was changing. For me. For us. I walked slowly through the corridor with one hand resting over my stomach, and as I moved, I kept thinking about the baby. About what kind of life this child would have. About whether this house, with its cameras and guards and locked doors, was where I wanted my child to grow up. I did not know the answer yet. I only knew the question had become impossible to ignore. Then a voice cut across the quiet. “Mrs. Thorne.” I stopped and turned. A woman stood in the do
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 52
Alexander Recovery was slow, and I hated every part of it. I hated the weakness in my body. I hated needing help for things I had always done without thinking. I hated the way Elara had to steady me when I got out of bed, the way she had to pass me a glass of water, the way my own hands shook when I tried to move too fast. I had spent most of my adult life controlling everything around me, and now I could not even control the speed at which my body healed. Elara never complained. She came every day and took the strain out of the room before I could let it settle in my head. She held my hand when I got frustrated. She read to me when I was too restless to sit in silence. She talked to me about her business, about the new swimwear designs she had sketched, about colors and fabrics and launch dates and the future she was building for herself. For us. For the baby. For the life we had nearly lost before it had even begun. One afternoon, while she sat in the chair beside my bed wi
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 51
Elara The hospital room was quiet. Alexander was asleep at last, and it had taken hours of stubbornness, arguments, and exhaustion to get him there. He had fought the sedation longer than he should have, insisting that he was fine, insisting that he could stay awake, insisting that he could still keep watch over me if he only tried hard enough. I had sat beside him through all of it and kept my voice calm until he finally gave in. Now his breathing was even. His chest rose and fell beneath the bandages, and his face had softened in sleep in a way I rarely saw when he was awake. He looked peaceful. He looked alive. So did I. I sat in the chair beside his bed and rested one hand over my stomach, letting the reality settle into me one piece at a time. The baby was his. The truth was no longer twisted and hidden and poisoned by David’s lies. I had spent too many days believing I was carrying the child of the man who had hurt me, and the fear of that had sat inside me every hour s
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 50
Alexander I woke up in a hospital bed. The room looked painfully familiar, down to the dull white walls, the steady beeping of the machines, and the clean antiseptic scent that always made me feel more exposed than healed. For a moment, I did not move. I only stared at the ceiling and let the fact of my own survival settle in. I had survived again. I turned my head slowly, and the sight beside me hit harder than the pain in my body. Elara was sitting in the chair beside my bed. Her fingers were wrapped around mine, and her eyes were red, swollen, and tired. She looked as though she had not slept properly in days. Her face changed the moment she saw my eyes open. “You’re awake,” she said. “Apparently.” Her mouth trembled, but her expression stayed firm. “Do not ever do that again.” “Do what?” “Get shot,” she said. “Do not get shot saving me, and do not make me sit here wondering whether you are going to die.” “I did not die.” “You almost did.” I tightened my fingers aro
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 49
Elara We spent the night together, but not in my apartment. Alexander said it was too easy a place to find us, too exposed, too familiar for men who already knew where to look. He took me to one of his hotels at the edge of the city, a place that looked beautiful from the outside and felt heavily guarded the moment I stepped inside. I did not argue. I was too tired to fight, and too raw to pretend I was fine. The room was quiet. The curtains were drawn. The lights were low. Alexander stood near the window for a long time before he finally came to sit beside me on the bed. I watched him carefully. Even after everything he had told me, I still found myself looking for the next lie, the next hidden detail, the next thing that would hurt me later. He noticed. “You still do not trust me,” he said. I rested my back against the headboard and folded my arms loosely over my chest. “I do not trust anyone.” “That is fair,” he replied. “I have not given you a reason to.” I stud
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 20
Alexander For twenty years, nothing had touched me. That was not arrogance. It was a record. I had built this empire through strategy and sacrifice and the willingness to make decisions that other men hesitated over. I had survived two assassination attempts — one a car bomb, one a shooter in a p
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 19
Elara Waking up in Alexander's bed the morning after my wedding should have felt strange. It didn't. That was the strange part. The master suite was full of morning light, the kind that comes in low and warm when the curtains aren't fully drawn. The candles had burned themselves out overnight, l
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 18
AlexanderAfterward, I lay awake.Elara slept on my chest, her dark hair spread across my skin, one hand curled over my heart as though she had reached for it even in sleep. The tension she carried in her shoulders constantly — the held-in, braced quality of a person who had been waiting for somet
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 17
Elara The house emptied slowly, the way houses do after something significant has happened in them. Marcus handled my parents first. My mother had stopped crying by the time he guided her toward the waiting car, replaced by the particular quiet of a woman who had more questions than she knew h
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