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2026-01-27 01:29:10
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Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord. Chapter 104: The Ghost of Loyalty
LeandroThe dust from the SUV’s tires settled slowly, a gray haze hanging over the driveway of the villa. I stood on the balcony, my hands gripping the stone railing until the skin over my knuckles turned white. My side ached a sharp, throbbing reminder of the bullet I’d taken weeks ago but that pain was nothing compared to the hollow, cavernous weight in my chest.I watched the black speck of the car disappear behind the rows of cypress trees. She was gone.I should have killed her. By every law of the Omertà, by every tradition my father and his father before him had bled to protect, Delia should be lying in a shallow grave in the olive grove. A mole is a cancer. You don't negotiate with it; you cut it out. But when I looked at her on her knees, her eyes drowning in tears as she confessed, I didn't see a spy. I saw the woman who had held my hand while I drifted in and out of a fever.I walked back into the study, the air thick with the smell of old leather and tobacco. Marco was
Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord. Chapter 103: The Weight of the Crown
DeliaThe next morning, the light spilling through the window was skeletal and cold, a harsh departure from the usual golden glow of the Tuscan sun.I sat on the edge of the bed, the heavy silk sheets tangled around my legs like a shroud. Leandro was gone. The space beside me was cold, the indentation on his pillow the only evidence he had been there at all.I felt sick. It wasn’t the physical ache of a common illness; it was the visceral, soul-rotting nausea that comes with a dying conscience.For months, I had been the perfect little mole. I had infiltrated Leandro’s life under Sebastian’s iron thumb, terrified that if I didn't feed him secrets, Shawn and Carrie would end up in a shallow ditch. But the landscape had shifted. Leandro hadn't just given me "pocket money"; he had showered me with life-changing sums for "accompanying him" and playing his "Queen."Under the covers, I checked my bank balance on my phone. I was rich—"never-work-again" rich. That was the problem. The money
Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord. Chapter 102: The Last Dance of Deception
DeliaThe dining room was too quiet. The only sound was the clink of silver against china and the soft, rhythmic crackle of the fireplace. The vastness of the villa, which had once seemed like a dream of Italian luxury, now felt like a gilded cage.I looked at the empty chairs where Shawn and Carrie should have been sitting. Usually, the room would be filled with Shawn’s loud laughter as he struggled with his Italian pronunciation, or Carrie’s sharp-witted commentary on the wine. Their absence was like a cold, biting draft in the room, making the hair on my arms stand up."Leandro?" I asked, my voice trembling just a little, barely a whisper in the cavernous space. "Where are my friends? I thought we were all having dinner together."Leandro didn't even look up from his wine at first. He swirled the dark red liquid, watching it coat the glass like thick velvet, the candlelight catching the deep ruby hue."I sent them to the village with some of my men, Cara Mia," he said finally,
Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord. Chapter 101: The Last Supper
DeliaI stood in the middle of my room, staring at the closed door until my vision blurred. The silence of the villa was loud, heavy with the weight of things unsaid. My heart was a trapped bird, battering itself against my ribs.He knows. He has to know.The way he said "loyalty" sounded like a curse word wrapped in silk. I paced the length of the Persian rug, my mind racing through exit strategies. Should I call in sick? Tell him the Italian sun gave me a migraine? No. Leandro isn't the type to let a headache get in the way of his plans. Should I try to escape? I looked at the balcony. The drop was steep, and the olive groves were crawling with his men.Even if I made it past the perimeter, I couldn't leave Shawn and Carrie. They were the only reason I was in this mess. If Sebastian Callista hadn't threatened to turn their lives into a bloody mess, I would never have touched a burner phone. I wouldn’t even be here with a mafia Lord. I was a mole because I loved them. And now, I
Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord. Chapter 100: The Mask of Tuscany
DeliaThe air in the Tuscan villa was sweet, heavy with the scent of ripening grapes and ancient stone, but to me, it felt like poison. Ever since Carrie whispered to me about that folder in the library the one with my name and my face on it every breath felt like I was swallowing glass.I knew. I knew they were onto me. In this world, you don't just find a folder with your passport photo on a high-ranking lieutenant's desk unless you're being measured for a coffin.But I couldn't scream. I couldn't run. If I showed even a flicker of fear, it would be a confession. So, I did the only thing a girl in my position could do: I put on the performance of a lifetime.I walked into the kitchen where Matteo was pouring himself a glass of water. He looked perfectly calm, his black suit jacket draped over the back of a chair, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the heavy silver watch Leandro had given him. He looked like a man on vacation, not a man who was probably planning where to dump my body
Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord. Chapter 99: The Puppet Master’s Strings
Leandro"Get me Pyrianka," I growled into the phone. "Now."I hung up before Matteo could say another word. The silence that followed was suffocating. I stood up, my side screaming in protest, the stitches feeling like they were being pulled by hot tweezers. I didn't care. I walked over to the mahogany sideboard and poured myself a glass of bourbon straight, no ice. I needed something to burn the taste of betrayal out of my mouth.As the liquid scorched my throat, a memory flashed in my mind like a lightning strike. A few months ago, Pyrianka had come to his house and stood where Marco was standing now and looked me dead in the eye."Don Leandro," she had said, her voice like sandpaper on silk, "you’re looking at the horizon for enemies, but you should be looking at your own feet. The mole is right under your nose."I remembered the way her eyes had darted toward where Delia was standing. I had brushed it off back then. I had thought she was just being her usual paranoid self, jealo
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