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2026-06-22 13:25:06
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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 48
Elara The apartment was dark when I got home, but the quiet did not feel comforting. It felt heavy, crowded, and full of everything I had spent the last few hours trying not to think about. I sat on the living room floor with my back against the couch and my phone in my hands, staring at Vivian’s message until the words stopped looking real. *The test was doctored. The baby is Alexander’s.* I had read it so many times that I had started to hate the sentence. I hated the hope it created. I hated the fear that came with it. I hated that my life had turned into a place where truth and lies could wear the same face. Vivian had lied to me before. She had held things back, changed details, and made choices without asking me. Now she wanted me to believe her again. She said she was leading the Moretti family. She said she had the real report. She said the baby was Alexander’s. But Alexander had lied too. He had known about the paternity test and kept it from me. He had watched me gri
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 47
Alexander I stood in the parking lot and watched her drive away. The car disappeared past the gate, and the sound of the engine faded into the night. I kept my eyes on the road long after she was gone, as if staring hard enough could pull her back. She left. She knew. She hated me. I should have told her the truth from the beginning. I should have taken the risk and given her the facts before she could hear them from someone else. Instead, I had protected myself, and in doing that, I had pushed her straight into pain. You lied to her again. You promised her honesty, and you gave her another lie. Marcus stepped up beside me, but I did not turn to him. “Boss,” he said carefully. “We should get you inside.” “Let her go.” He hesitated. “Alexander—” “I said let her go.” Silence followed, heavy and impatient. Then Marcus said, “You’re bleeding.” I looked down at my shoulder. The bandage had darkened through the fabric of my shirt, and the wound Vincent had given me was see
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 33
Elara I packed a bag before I could talk myself out of it. Jeans. Two t-shirts. Underwear. My passport, which I had taken from David's penthouse months ago and never given back because some part of me had always suspected I might need it for myself. The cash I had kept folded into an old shoebox
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 32
Vivian I hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. I sat in my car in the parking lot of my building with both hands still on the wheel and the engine off, watching the sky over Las Vegas turn from grey to pink to the kind of gold that usually meant I was coming home from a shift, not that I'd never go
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 31
Alexander The stairs were a decision I made against the advice of my body. Every step sent a specific, localized communication from my chest — not the blunt throbbing of general pain but the pointed message of a wound being asked to do more than it was ready for. The bandages had soaked through b
Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don 29
Alexander Leaving the hospital was a decision that every medical professional within a thirty-meter radius wanted to document their objection to. The nurse who had been managing my IV removal looked at me with the specific expression of a person who had taken an oath and was watching it be disreg
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