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Chapter Eighty-Five: POV 3: The Visitor's Arrival
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2025-07-17 23:34:33
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Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend Chapter eighty-Six: POV 3: The Rescue 1
Saint Peter’s Castle – RooftopNight cloaked the rooftop in a curtain of shadows, the air tense and still. Four guards stood outside, weapons gripped tight, their eyes scanning the dark horizon. Inside the rooftop chamber, Diego Rossi sat calmly at a sleek metal table, sipping from a porcelain cup of espresso like he had all the time in the world. Two stone-faced men stood behind him, eyes locked on the entrance.The metal doors groaned open.Leonard strode in, flanked by four of his own men. In his hand, he carried a sleek black briefcase with reinforced steel latches. The click of his boots against the concrete was the only sound aside from the soft breeze whistling through the old castle walls.“You came,” Diego said, not even looking up. “I was beginning to think brotherly love had a price tag.”Leonard didn’t smile. “Everything has a price. Yours is always louder than most—like a baby crying because he’s hungry.”Diego finally looked up, a smirk twitching at the edge of his lips.
Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend Chapter Eighty-Five: POV 3: The Visitor's Arrival
PRIVATE JET – EN ROUTE TO NAPLES "Where are we?" Victoria asked, her voice calm, low, and piercing as she picked up the glass of cocktail from the center table. The scent of expensive liquor lingered in the air like a slow-burning fuse. She sat poised like a queen in exile — mysterious, cold, and dressed in a tailored black coat that wrapped her like armor. Her gloves remained on, untouched by warmth. Her eyes, shadowed with kohl and memory, watched the clouds outside like old enemies. The man seated across from her shifted nervously. He was middle-aged, professional, clearly intelligent, but his fingers fidgeted with the edge of the open file resting on his lap. His crisp gray suit was immaculate, yet he looked like he was aging rapidly in her presence. "We’ll touch down in Naples in less than an hour," he said, clearing his throat as he leaned forward. "I’ve compiled the latest on Leonard Morano… but I should warn you—things have changed since your last encounter." Victoria let
Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend Chapter Eighty-Four: POV 3: Unwanted Visitor 2
MORANO'S MANSION — SITTING ROOM The air inside the Morano mansion was colder than usual, thick with tension as Leonard descended the grand staircase, his expression unreadable but sharp like a blade freshly pulled from ice. His footsteps echoed across the marble floor, each one ringing with the quiet fury he barely contained. Massimo trailed behind him, his posture stiff and guarded. Down in the sitting room stood Luca Rossi—unflinching, hands at his sides, chin slightly lifted like a soldier presenting himself to a firing squad. Two Morano guards flanked him, hands hovering near their weapons. They didn’t need orders to act; they could see it in Leonard’s eyes. One wrong move from Luca and he’d be silenced without hesitation. Leonard’s voice was the first to slice through the tension. “What is a Rossi doing in my house?” His tone was calm, but venom seeped through each word. As he took his seat, reclining like a king surveying a trespasser in his court, his eyes didn’t leave Lu
Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend Chapter Eighty-Three: The Unwanted Visitor 1
Sophia's POV MORANO’S MANSION – LEONARD’S ROOM "You look sober now. That’s nice. Too bad you couldn’t manage that last night. You slept like nothing happened. Must be nice to forget a disaster with a bottle of champagne," Leonard said coldly. His voice was calm—too calm. That was worse than shouting. I had just opened my eyes, my body still warm beneath the silk sheets, but my stomach turned to ice at the sound of his voice. I sat up slowly, the headache from last night’s drink still faintly thudding behind my eyes. "Leonard…" I started gently, guilt already creeping in. "I’m fine. I didn’t mean to—" I tried to explain before he snapped again. "You didn’t mean to? I warned you, Sophia. Explicitly. No drinks. Not even water unless it came from my hand. That party was full of enemies." His voice was sharper now, cutting through the morning like a blade. "I'm sorry. I was busy talking to Damian when the maid served the drink. It wasn't intentional!" I defended myself, my heart po
Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend Chapter Eighty-Two: Saint Peter's Castle
SAINT PETER’S CASTLE"What the fuck?!!!" he spat, struggling against the restraints.The wind whispered through the shattered windows of Saint Peter’s Castle, carrying ash and the lingering scent of soot. The abandoned church had once echoed with hymns; now, it bore only silence and cruelty. Its walls were charred from an old fire, the once holy stone floor now stained black, cracked and flaking beneath heavy footsteps.Logan sat in the center of the ruined altar space, bound to a cold metal chair. His wrists were raw, the rope biting deep. Blood dried at the corner of his lips, his once neat shirt now torn and grimy. Still, even through exhaustion and pain, his voice held defiance.The heavy wooden door creaked open.Diego Rossi entered with the slow, theatrical grace of a man who enjoyed the show. Dressed in all black, a cigarette resting between his fingers, he looked like a devil in mourning.“Still breathing, I see,” Diego said, tilting his head. “Good. I was afraid I’d have to s
Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend Chapter Eighty-One: War set
MORANO'S MANSION – BALCONY The early morning sun cast golden hues across the wide marble balcony of the Morano mansion. A soft breeze rustled the olive trees below, brushing against the towering columns. Leonard stood silently for a moment, a porcelain coffee cup in his hand, his tailored shirt slightly open at the collar as he absorbed the heat of the sunrise. Steam spiraled gently from his drink, but the warmth in his hand could not compare to the fire boiling beneath his calm exterior. Massimo stepped onto the balcony through the glass-paneled doors, his face drawn tight with news. “Boss, we’ve gotten word about him,” Massimo said, his voice low but alert. Leonard didn’t look at him. He took another measured sip of coffee, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Have you sent them?” he asked, tone smooth but edged like a blade. “Yes, boss. They're already in motion.” Before either could say another word, Leonard’s phone buzzed loudly against the table beside him. Unknown Number. He nar
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