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Chapter 125
publish date:
2026-06-20 08:49:18His Fears
SERAPHINA "Sera" MORTEZ'S POINT OF VIEW"Daddy... when will Mommy wake up?""I miss her... Daddy Lucian..."Is this real, or just my mind playing tricks? Did I really hear that? Did my children just call their father by the name he was always meant to have?I can't move a muscle. Every part of me feels heavy, as if weighted down by stone. I want to look at them, to reach out and touch their small hands-anything to make sure I'm not h
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Hiding The Devil Billionaire's Daughter Chapter 127
BOOK 3: I ACCIDENTALLY ADOPTED A MAFIA BOSS PROLOGUEWARNING: This story contains mature, sensitive, and explicit content. Reader discretion is advised. SASHA ROSARIO'S POINT OF VIEW A year ago, a man with no name and no memory knocked at my door. I called him Angelo, gave him my spare room, watched him fold himself into the narrow gaps of my life until there was no space left he hadn't filled. We loved like divers surfacing for breath-each touch a current pulling us closer, each word a gasp we'd been holding too long. Then he was gone. One morning the sheets were cold as river stone, his things wiped clean from every shelf and hook, and I've waited since. Ache lives in my bones now. Love does too. So why am I curled in the back of a van, blindfold tight enough to press shadows into my eyes, my shoulder grinding against metal as we bound over potholes wide enough to swallow a jeepney whole? I've spent thirty-two ye
Hiding The Devil Billionaire's Daughter Chapter 126
EpilogueTHREE MONTHS LATER... LUCIAN VITALE'S POINT OF VIEW I can't sleep. Haven't had a full night's rest in over a month, pulling overtime at the office every single day. I glance at the wall clock as I shut down my laptop-six in the morning. Time flies when you're drowning in numbers and deadlines. It feels like just yesterday I was staring at the same screen, the clock reading ten at night. I stand up and slip on my coat, the wool heavy against my tired shoulders. I grab my phone and car keys from the desk-cool metal and plastic in my palm. I need to get home. They'll be waiting. "Good morning, sir. Overtime again?" One of the morning-shift guards greets me at the exit, his breath fogging in the cool lobby air. I offer him a gentle smile. "Yeah-gotta do it for the family." He grins back, lines crinkling around his eyes. "How about some coffee first, sir? You'll give yourself a stomach ache burning th
Hiding The Devil Billionaire's Daughter Chapter 125
His Fears SERAPHINA "Sera" MORTEZ'S POINT OF VIEW "Daddy... when will Mommy wake up?" "I miss her... Daddy Lucian..." Is this real, or just my mind playing tricks? Did I really hear that? Did my children just call their father by the name he was always meant to have? I can't move a muscle. Every part of me feels heavy, as if weighted down by stone. I want to look at them, to reach out and touch their small hands-anything to make sure I'm not hallucinating. But my eyelids won't open, my fingers won't wiggle. All I can do is listen. Listen to their voices, clear and bright even through the fog in my head. Listen to the steady beep of the monitor beside my bed, counting out seconds like heartbeats. It feels like I've been trapped like this forever-a nightmare I can't wake from, full of shadows I never want to face again. I want to open my eyes. I want to see the people I thought I'd lost, to breathe in the scent of t
Hiding The Devil Billionaire's Daughter Chapter 124
Lucian Vitale 3LUCIAN VITALE'S POINT OF VIEW "How are you, hmm? Been far too long. You've grown-I thought you'd be smaller in person. I watched you on the feeds while you were in there. Glad you survived. Proves you deserve to live. I suppose I ought to be proud-" "Cut the crap, old man." My words caught in my throat as cold metal pressed to the side of my head. A gun, steady as stone, held by someone just out of sight. I kept my gaze locked on the man across from me, seated behind an ornate desk of dark, polished wood. We were in his office-only us three: him, me, and the armed guard by the door. Percy, Kiddeon, and Keiran were already asleep in the rooms they'd been given, their bodies finally resting after years of running. He laughed, sharp as broken glass cutting through the quiet. "Some manners you've got. Is that how you treat the man who-" "You're not my grandfather. Just someone I used to know." My voice was flat,
Hiding The Devil Billionaire's Daughter Chapter 123
Lucian Vitale 2LUCIAN VITALE'S POINT OF VIEW "How old are you?" the man asked. "Eight." My voice came out as a shaky whisper, barely audible over the car's engine. I couldn't see a thing-they'd blindfolded me with a rough cloth that smelled of sweat and gasoline-but I could tell we were moving fast, wheels humming over pavement that shifted from smooth to cracked. They'd said they were taking me to him to decide if I lived or died. I was terrified. My body shook with it, every nerve raw from what I'd seen. My parents were dead, and I didn't even know why. Now their killers drove me through the dark like I was just another package in the backseat. It was chilling-the ease with which they'd ended two lives, the way they spoke around me as if I weren't a grieving child at all. To them, human life meant nothing. I kept my mouth shut, too scared to make a sound. I didn't pray, didn't beg God for help. Resentment had already sett
Hiding The Devil Billionaire's Daughter Chapter 122
Lucian Vitale 1LUCIAN VITALE'S POINT OF VIEW When I was a child, I had everything any kid could dream of: a mansion with grounds that stretched beyond the treeline, cars that gleamed like polished coins and made my friends' fathers look away with tight smiles, my own basketball court where the hoops never wobbled. Toys arrived wrapped in silk paper, their price tags hidden away-costing more than most families made in a year. Above all, there was perfection: a perfect family, a perfect life. I wanted for nothing. Mom and Dad loved me with a ferocity that felt like shelter. Ask for a new action figure, and it would sit on my bedside table by morning, still warm from the store's plastic wrap. Crave pastries from that patisserie in Paris, and they'd arrive in a wooden box lined with white cloth, their sugar crusts crackling under the kitchen light. I knew I was lucky. Knew I'd never have to work a day if I didn't want to-they'd carry me through li
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