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Chapter twenty nine
publish date:
2026-04-05 05:25:13
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Mafia Tech Bro Chapter thirty eight
CHRISTOFI had no idea what my expression was doing. Whatever discipline I usually had over my features abandoned me completely. She didn’t stop when she reached me. She passed without speaking, only acknowledging my presence with a brief glance.I turned, because I wasn’t in control of my movement and reflexes in that moment. Then I saw the back of the dress, it was open, exposing a long stretch of skin from shoulder blades to waist, smooth and without blemishes. Her spine curved subtly as she moved, the silk pooling and lifting with her stride. The dress didn’t hide her figure, it acknowledged it. Her hips moved with a natural ease, responding rather than resisting.Her ass was ample, it moved like fluid, undeniably real, shifting with each step. Jesus Christ.Before she reached the last step, I caught myself. That moment, that stupid pause where the house had gone silent around her, I buried it. I drew in a slow breath and let it out through my nose, the way I did before board meet
Mafia Tech Bro Chapter thirty seven
CHRISTOFI stayed at the bar because it gave my hands something to do other than curl into fists. I’d already gone upstairs once, to find Pepa, and, to change. I rinsed the day off my skin, but I’d come back down like the problem might be waiting for me at eye level. It wasn’t. The problem was still not back home.I didn’t enjoy having to explain myself, and tonight would require exactly that. The office, Tanisha’s impudence, the timing of it all. Pepa’s calm questions, the pauses she used like scalpels, the moment she decided whether I’d annoyed her or merely disappointed her. I preferred fury.I told myself I’d wait and deal with it when she walked through the door. Roman’s driver had arrived five minutes ago. I’d watched the headlights through the windows like an accusation. What the hell was taking Tanisha so long to get ready. I needed her, the damn team, the driver and the car, out of my house, and off my property. Strangers lingering here always made me uncomfortable.At the ea
Mafia Tech Bro Chapter thirty six
TANISHAI finished the shower feeling like I’d just pressure-washed myself. There was a robe waiting for me, thick, white, folded just so on the edge of the marble bench, not tossed. The placement was intentional, in a way that said “put this on.” I wrapped myself in it and stepped back into the room.They were all still there. For half a deranged second, I’d hoped they’d vanish while I was in the bathroom. Nope, they didn’t. Sane faces, same calm professionalism, same unsettling readiness.“Please, have a seat,” one of them said, gesturing to the chair in front of the dresser.I sat. The mirror was enormous, framed in warm wood. It reflected a version of me that still looked like myself, damp hair, bare face, eyes alert in the way people get when they know they’re about to lose control of the situation.Then they started. It wasn’t frantic or invasive the way I’d expected. No chatter, no “trust me, you’re going to love this.” Just movement, purposeful movement. Two people worked at o
Mafia Tech Bro Chapter thirty five
TANISHAI’d only ever seen Christof Gustavo’s house from the outside, through the tinted windows of his SUV, or from the driver’s seat of my Corolla when I pulled up every morning and waited. From a distance, it always looked the same. Quiet, composed, heavily guarded. Walking into it was something else entirely. The doors were heavy, but it opened smoothly. The first thing that caught my attention was the space, real space. A space like that would either let you breathe, or suffocate you. Well, depending on your mood.The ceilings were high but not dramatic about it, the walls a soft palette of stone, warm gray, muted cream. Nothing flashy.. Just comforting. The floors were polished wood, not glossy, not trying to reflect anyone’s face back at them.Rugs lay where they made sense, thick enough to soften footsteps. The air smelled clean, like the house was cleaned by the hour. It didn’t smell like cologne or candles. It smelled managed.I stepped in slowly, half-expecting to be told
Mafia Tech Bro Chapter thirty four
CHRISTOFTanisha had changed the rhythm of my day, and I didn’t appreciate it nearly as much as I pretended not to be affected. The squirming was gone, even the careful pauses. The way she used to hover at the edge of my presence like she might be swatted if she breathed too loudly. Now she was bold, free to express herself, she no longer suppressed her dissatisfaction under loosed fists and subtle eye rolls.I blamed HR, for being unable to find me a damn assistant who knew for certain what they were doing, who didn’t second guess or ask stupid questions. I blamed Roman, I blamed myself for telling Tanisha how good she was at her job, I blamed myself for being so freaking hard to please.Tanisha’s recent character development was initially amusing, interesting even. Now it was… disruptive. Irritating in the way a pebble in a shoe is irritating, small, but impossible to ignore.I hadn’t told Pepa about Tanisha’s new conditions. It wasn’t because I was hiding anything. I just had not
Mafia Tech Bro Chapter thirty three
TANISHAChristof still liked his mornings a certain way, that much hadn’t changed. I pulled into the circular driveway of his estate at exactly 7:12 a.m., not a minute earlier, not a minute later. The guards waved me through with the same neutral faces, one of them looked twice, like he wasn’t sure if I still belonged on the list. I wasn’t sure either.I killed the engine and sat there for half a second longer than necessary. I wasn’t exactly eager to be back to work, I wished I could get paid without having to show up. Unfortunately, that would probably require some very strong voodoo.Christof was already outside when I stepped out of my car, coat crisp, coffee untouched, irritation radiating off him.“You’re late,” he said.“I’m not,” I replied calmly. “It’s 7:13 A.M. The drive to the office takes ten minutes, I’m meant to clock in at 7:30 A.M.”His eyes immediately cut to mine, blue and cold.“Don’t get smart with me.”“I’m not,” I said innocently. “I’m being accurate.”“Get in.”
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