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Chapter Forty Eight
Last Updated:
2025-06-16 16:31:54
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Falling For My Ex's Mafia Dad Chapter Forty Eight
Fiona’s car came to a halt outside the grand De Luca mansion. Without wasting time, she stepped out and quickly dialed Aria’s number. “Where are you?” she asked the moment Aria picked up. “I’m in the garden… behind the mansion,” Aria’s voice came out soft and tired. Fiona ended the call and made her way around the mansion, guided by the dim garden lights and the faint rustling of leaves. As she approached, she spotted Aria sitting on the wooden swing under the old oak tree, her shoulders slumped, her face turned away. “Aria…” Fiona called gently. Aria stood up slowly, and the moment she saw her friend, all the strength she’d been holding onto crumbled. She rushed into Fiona’s arms and burst into tears. Fiona held her tightly, stroking her hair. “It’s okay. I’m here. Let it out.” They sat down together on the swing. Aria sniffled and wiped her face with her sleeve, avoiding eye contact. Fiona looked at her with concern. “Tell me everything. What happened?” Aria shook her head
Falling For My Ex's Mafia Dad Chapter Forty Seven Aria
The study was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of aged whiskey and tension. Damian sat alone in his leather chair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, swirling it slowly. The video kept replaying in his mind like a cursed loop — Aria, laughing and dancing with strange men, their hands all over her. The humiliation. The betrayal. The noise of the party. The gossip. The stares. It all felt like a knife twisting in his gut. With a growl, Damian hurled the whiskey glass against the wall. It shattered into tiny shards, the sharp sound echoing through the room. At that exact moment, Lyla stepped in, the crash making her flinch. She had been hovering outside, waiting for the right time to strike. Her eyes darted to the broken glass, then to Damian, his eyes bloodshot, jaw tight, fists clenched. "Don..." she began softly, stepping closer, "I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Aria could do something like that. She humiliated you, humiliated the De Luca name in front of everyone." Damia
Falling For My Ex's Mafia Dad Chapter Forty Six Marco and Aria
Aria stood at the door, heart pounding, expecting to see Damian, ready to beg, to explain, to plead for his understanding. But instead, Marco stood there, looking calm and gentle, a sharp contrast to the storm she had just faced. “Marco…” she whispered, confused. “I heard the commotion,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning her tear-streaked face. “Are you okay?” Her lips trembled. She wanted to scream that nothing was okay, that everything had fallen apart, but all she could do was shake her head. Marco stepped inside slowly. “You don’t look like yourself, Aria. What happened?” “I don’t know,” she muttered, rubbing her arms as though trying to erase the memory. “Everything felt… strange. I—I was dizzy. I didn’t know what I was doing…” “Maybe someone slipped something into your drink,” Marco offered, watching her reaction carefully. “There were a lot of people there.” Aria blinked, considering it. It made sense. But even if it were true, would Damian believe her now? She
Falling For My Ex's Mafia Dad Chapter Forty Five Damian and Aria
Damian’s shirt slid off his shoulders and hit the floor in silence. His body was tense, every muscle clenched with rage and something darker. He stood there, his bare back to Aria, and with a slow, deliberate movement, unfastened his belt. Aria’s breath caught. “Damian…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What… What are you doing?” He didn’t answer. He wrapped the head of the belt tightly around his fist, the leather groaning in his grip. Aria’s eyes widened in fear. She pressed her back into the bedpost, inching away, her heart pounding wildly. “Damian, please don’t, don’t hurt me… I don’t understand what’s happening—” His hand shot up. Aria turned her face away, bracing herself for the sting of leather. But the crack of the belt didn’t land on her. It landed on him. Smack! A gasp tore from her lips. “Damian…” He didn’t even flinch. Another sharp whip to his back. Smack! Red lines slashed across his skin, blood beginning to trickle. “Stop! Please s
Falling For My Ex's Mafia Dad Chapter Forty Four A rift
Aria stood frozen, her soaked dress clinging to her trembling body. The taste of confusion still clouded her mind as she tried to make sense of Damian’s furious words. “Damian, please… I don’t understand what happened. I swear, I didn’t mean—” “Didn’t mean to?” Damian snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through steel. “You think that matters now, Aria? You humiliated me in front of the entire city.” “I didn’t know, I was just feeling dizzy, and then everything went blurry—” Before she could finish, a dramatic gasp echoed from behind. “Oh my God,” Lyla exclaimed, holding her phone up. “It’s all over social media now.” Aria’s head whipped around. “What?” Damian’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?” Lyla turned her screen toward them, pretending to be shocked. “Someone already uploaded a video… it’s gone viral in less than fifteen minutes.” Damian snatched the phone from her hand. His heart pounded as he watched the video—grainy yet damning. Aria, smiling and swaying
Falling For My Ex's Mafia Dad Chapter Forty three Lyla's Birthday
The music thumped steadily through the speakers as Lyla’s birthday party came to full life. Laughter floated through the air like perfume, clinking glasses echoed from every corner, and guests mingled with careless delight under the opulent chandeliers of the De Luca mansion. Aria stood near the bar, her glass of wine still in hand. She’d finished it without a second thought, the sweetness covering the bitter edge of the substance that had been quietly added moments before. She blinked once, then again. The room seemed to shift. The lights blurred. The music slowed and then spun too fast. She pressed her fingers to her temple and tried to steady her breath, but everything around her began to swim. “Are you alright, Mrs. De Luca?” a maid whispered, noticing her expression. “I’m... fine,” Aria murmured, her voice drowsy. But even as she said it, her feet carried her away from the bar. Her heels echoed loudly across the marble floor as she walked, no, almost swayed, toward
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