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CHAPTER 85: MAFIA'S TORMENT
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2025-08-17 21:39:07
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Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession CHAPTER 158: THE FIRST NIGHT OF FOREVER
GIOVANNI'S POVThe moment my lips met Tristan’s, the world ceased to exist.It wasn’t a kiss so much as a rupture—a breaking open of the man I had been and the man I had become. Every shard of restraint I had honed across decades splintered beneath the soft, desperate sound Tristan made into my mouth. I pulled him closer, tasting tears and triumph, tasting him, tasting the promise he had just made before an entire world that once feared my touch.When I finally tore myself away... because my lungs insisted, not because I wished to... Tristan’s lips were swollen, his cheeks flushed, his eyes shining with tears and something far softer.I rested my forehead against his, breathing him in.“My husband,” he whispered.A rare thing happened then—my heart stumbled. He was mine. Truly, irrevocably mine. “Come,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along his lower lip. “We have a reception to attend.”He laughed, shaky and breathless. “We’re going to be late.”“They can wait,” I said. “I just married
Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession CHAPTER 157: LIFETIME TO BEGIN
TRISTAN'S POVThe air in the Grand Hall was thick enough to drown in. Giovanni’s vow had been a blade... beautiful, devastating, sharpened by devotion and darkness, and I was still reeling from its weight, from its sincerity, from the frightening, breathtaking intensity behind every word he’d spoken.He looked at me as though he was trying to memorize my soul.No one had ever looked at me that way.No one should.My vision blurred again with fresh tears, and I blinked hard, desperate to hold myself together long enough to form words of my own. Giovanni’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, slow and grounding. I forced air into my lungs.The officiant cleared his throat, visibly undone by the moment.“And now… Tristan,” he said softly, “your vows. Whenever you’re ready.”Giovanni leaned in. “You can take all the time you need,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. “There is no hurry—not for this.”“I know,” I whispered back, though my voice shook. “I’m… I’m alright.”Anastasia, standing
Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession CHAPTER 156: DARKEST WEDDING VOW
GIOVANNI'S POVMy world had always been a meticulously crafted cage of shadows, a realm where every flicker of light was either extinguished or bent to my will. Yet, as the massive, intricately carved doors of the Grand Hall swung open, revealing the ethereal vision within, I felt a tremor that shook the foundations of my carefully constructed existence. He was there. Tristan.My breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that burned in my lungs. He stood at the threshold, bathed in the soft, golden glow of a thousand chandeliers, a beacon of pure, unwavering light. He was immaculate, devastatingly so, in an all-white suit that seemed to shimmer with an inner luminescence.Every detail, from the crisp lines of the fabric to the way his hair was styled, spoke of a refined elegance that was uniquely his. He was indeed the white spot on the darkness of my world, a stark, luminous contrast to the black abyss I inhabited. My eyes, accustomed to discerning imperfections, found none in him. He wa
Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession CHAPTER 155: WEDDING?
TRISTAN'S POVAn insistent, annoying tapping dragged me from the depths of a much-needed dream. I buried my face deeper into the pillow, a soft groan escaping my lips. The heavy blackout curtains usually ensured I slept until at least noon, a privilege I’d come to appreciate in the suffocating opulence of Giovanni’s estate. But this morning, something was different. The tapping intensified, accompanied by a low, urgent whisper.“Tristan. Wake up, little bird. We haven’t got all day.”My eyes, still glued shut, recognized the voice immediately. Anastasia. What in the world did she want at... I squinted at the faint light filtering around the curtains. It couldn’t be later than six, maybe seven. This was an ungodly hour.“Go away, Anastasia,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. “Five more minutes.”Instead of retreating, I felt a hand gently but firmly shake my shoulder. “Absolutely not. Rise and shine, future… well, just rise and shine.” Her tone was unusually bright, almost giddy, w
Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession CHAPTER 154: MY IMPOSSIBLE TRISTAN
GIOVANNA POVThe light of dawn, which had once felt like a promise of bloody retribution, now filtered in, softening the edges of the room where Tristan had stood victorious.My impossible Tristan.He was right there, alive, breathing, annoyingly clever, and the sheer relief that still coursed through me made my hands tremble. I pulled him closer, inhaling the scent of him, the faint traces of cologne mixed with something uniquely Tristan – resilience and an almost shocking sweetness.“Alright,” I finally murmured, stepping back, though my hand lingered on his arm. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up.”The ‘mess’ wasn’t just the cowering assassin bound on the floor, but the entire, bloody saga that had brought us to this point. Vlad Kuznetsov. He was dead. Truly, irrevocably gone. He lay in the lower chambers, a silent testament to the end of an era, an end that had left scars on my soul but also, unexpectedly, paved the way for something new.Dmitri had arrived shortly after, his usual c
Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession CHAPTER 153: OUTWITTED
TRISTAN'S POV I woke to silence.mNot the soft, early-morning quiet I was used to... the kind that made Giovanni’s chest feel safe beneath me, but a wrong, heavy silence. The sheets were cool beside me. He was gone. My stomach tightened. I knew where he was—down in the dungeon, consumed by his revenge, his focus elsewhere. That meant I was alone. Defenseless. A soft click. The bedroom door—locked before—was now ajar. A shadow crept in. Someone was inside. I froze. My breathing slowed. Whoever it was thought I was asleep. Perfect. That gave me time. My hand slid beneath the pillow, closing around the only thing I’d kept hidden there: a metal pen. Not just any pen. Giovanni’s. Sleek, heavy, reinforced. He’d called it a “tool for signing things.” I kept it more as a comfort, a little piece of him when he wasn’t around. Now it would be my weapon. Footsteps approached. Quiet. Too deliberate for a guard. “Pretty thing,” a voice hissed. “You won’t feel a thing. Orders are orders.” “Or
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