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THE BOY WHO STOPPED ASKING

مؤلف: Amira Lords
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-08-02 18:04:38

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR:

“I’m not checking the closet anymore.”

Theo said it while putting his shoes on by the front door, voice flat, eyes on the laces. June paused halfway through zipping her jacket. Lyra stopped with the baby’s bag in her hand. Dimitri, who had been about to hand Theo his lunchbox, went still.

“What do you mean?” Dimitri asked.

Theo finished the knot and stood up. “I mean I’m done. Checking doesn’t change anything. Either you’re here or you’re not. Looking in the closet every m
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  • MARRIED TO THE MAFIA KING    THE DISTANCE HE BUILT

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE:“He’s not coming down for breakfast.”June stood in the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed, looking younger than she had in months. “I knocked. He said he’s not hungry. But he’s always hungry.”Lyra glanced at the clock, then at Dimitri. The baby was already fed and dozing in the bouncer. Anna sat in her high chair smearing bananas across the tray. The empty chair where Theo usually sat felt deliberate.Dimitri set the plate he had made for him back on the counter. “I’ll go talk to him.”“No.” Lyra’s voice was quiet and firm. “If you push right now, he’ll only shut the door harder. Give him the morning.”“He’s twelve. He needs to eat.”“He needs to feel like he still has some control over something,” she answered. “Right now that something is the distance. Don’t try to close it for him.”Dimitri braced both hands on the counter and dropped his head. “I did this.”“Yes.” Lyra didn’t soften it. “You did. And now we live with the part where he gets to decide how

  • MARRIED TO THE MAFIA KING    THE BOY WHO STOPPED ASKING

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR:“I’m not checking the closet anymore.”Theo said it while putting his shoes on by the front door, voice flat, eyes on the laces. June paused halfway through zipping her jacket. Lyra stopped with the baby’s bag in her hand. Dimitri, who had been about to hand Theo his lunchbox, went still.“What do you mean?” Dimitri asked.Theo finished the knot and stood up. “I mean I’m done. Checking doesn’t change anything. Either you’re here or you’re not. Looking in the closet every morning just reminds me that we still have to wonder.”The words hit harder than yelling would have.June glanced between them, uncertain. “But… what if one day it’s back?”“Then we’ll find out the regular way,” Theo said. “When he’s gone. I’m not doing the morning inventory anymore. It’s making me tired.”Lyra felt something cold settle under her ribs. “Theo. Looking out for yourself isn’t wrong.”“I’m not looking out for myself.” He finally met his father’s eyes. “I’m tired of participating in

  • MARRIED TO THE MAFIA KING    THE MORNING AFTER THE TRUTH

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE:“You gave the bag away.”June said it the second she came down for breakfast, eyes going straight to the entryway closet like she needed visual proof. Theo was right behind her, already scanning the same space.Dimitri stood at the stove in a T-shirt and sweatpants, spatula in hand, looking like he hadn’t slept more than an hour. “Viktor took it yesterday. It’s gone. Not in the garage. Not in the house. Gone.”Theo dropped his backpack by the door. “For real this time?”“For real.”June walked over to the closet, opened it, and looked inside. Empty hangers. A couple of coats. No duffel bag. She closed the door carefully and let out a breath she seemed to have been holding since last night.Lyra watched from the table where she was feeding the baby. “Your father meant what he said. The bag is out of this house for good.”Theo sat down but didn’t pick up his fork. “Okay. But the bag was never the whole problem. The problem is what makes him want the bag.”The kitc

  • MARRIED TO THE MAFIA KING    THE NIGHT THE PROMISE STARTED TO CRACK

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO:“I don’t believe you anymore.”Theo’s voice cut through the kitchen the next morning like a blade. He stood by the table with his backpack already on, lunchbox in one hand, eyes fixed on Dimitri with a steadiness that didn’t belong on a child’s face.Dimitri set his coffee down carefully. “What don’t you believe?”“That you’re staying.” Theo’s jaw was tight. “You keep saying it. You said it when the bag was by the door the first time. You said it last night. But the bag keeps coming out. So I don’t believe you.”June stood a little behind him, quiet, her sketchbook hugged to her chest. Anna sat in her high chair watching everyone with wide eyes. From the nursery monitor came the soft sounds of the baby stirring.Lyra felt the air leave the room.Dimitri crouched down so he was level with his son. “I unpacked it. I put it away. I’m still here.”“For now,” Theo said. “That’s what it feels like. For now. Like you’re only staying until the quiet gets too loud again.”

  • MARRIED TO THE MAFIA KING    THE NIGHT THE QUIET WON FOR A MINUTE

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE:“I packed the bag again.”Dimitri said it while standing in the dark bedroom doorway, jacket on, the same duffel from weeks earlier hanging from one hand. Lyra sat up so fast the baby monitor wobbled on the nightstand.“No.”“I didn’t leave.” His voice was flat, scraped raw. “I got as far as the front door and turned around. But I packed it. I stood there with my hand on the knob like a coward and tried to talk myself into disappearing for a few days so I wouldn’t keep poisoning this house with whatever is wrong with me.”Lyra threw the covers back and stood. “Put it down.”“I already did.” He let the bag drop to the floor with a dull thud. “It’s empty. I took everything back out in the hallway. But I wanted to go, Lyra. For a minute the quiet felt so loud I thought the only way to protect any of you was to remove myself from the equation.”Her hands curled into fists. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to stand in our home and calculate whether your chi

  • MARRIED TO THE MAFIA KING    THE COST OF STAYING

    CHAPTER SEVENTY:“I can’t keep being the only one who believes we’re safe.”Lyra’s voice was low and shaking when she said it. She stood in the kitchen with her hands braced on the counter, back to him, like looking at him would make the words harder to hold onto.Dimitri stopped in the doorway. “What is that supposed to mean?”“It means I’m tired, Dimitri.” She turned. Her eyes were red, but her voice stayed steady in the way that meant she had already cried and decided to keep going anyway. “I’m tired of checking your face every time a door closes too hard. I’m tired of watching you fight yourself in the middle of the night. I’m tired of our kids learning how to read the temperature of this house before they even ask for breakfast.”“I’m doing what I said I would.”“You’re surviving what you said you would.” She took a step closer. “There’s a difference. Surviving looks like almost calling Viktor at two in the morning. Surviving looks like flinching at plates and bookshelves and the

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