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He Finally Got Her Back
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2025-09-29 08:00:41DANTE'S PERSPECTIVE
LUCCHESE ESTATENIGHTMalcolm’s call cut through the noise.“She’s back at the estate.”That’s all I needed.“Pull out. We’re done here.”Voronin, the ghost I’ve been chasing, can rot in hell for all I care. My wife finally decided to come back, and nothing, no enemy, no war, outranks that.The cars turned. Hours away, but I wanted it in minutes. Every mile felt like a blade carving me open. She left me starving, bleeding out on her absence, and now she thinks she can just walk back in?No. She doesn’t get to walk in.I take her back.I don’t care if she hides behind that innocent face. I don’t care if she trembles or smiles. The second I step into that house, I’m not stopping until she remembers exactly who owns her.She’s mine. Always was. Always will be. And tonight,She’s going to learn what starving me cost.I didn’t wait for the fucking car to
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My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent A Warm Dinner
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE PARIS, FRANCE - RESTAURANTNIGHT Dinner out was Carlos’ idea, though Nico carried himself as if he had orchestrated the entire affair.I didn’t argue. After the weight of folders and bloody reports, I needed something ordinary, something soft. And in this odd little family of ours, ordinary meant a public table where Dante’s composure fought Nico’s provocations while Carlos stole every chance to cling.The restaurant was tucked in a quiet Parisian street, warm lights spilling from its windows, casting gold across cobblestones. Inside, the chatter of diners blurred into a low hum, the air fragrant with butter and herbs. We took a table by the window. Dante guided me into my seat first, a hand on my back, his gesture protective yet possessive. Carlos sat beside me immediately, a grin stretched across his face as if daring Nico to object. Nico, naturally, slid into th
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Timas Reznikov
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE AFTERNOON Nikolai set another envelope on the table, thicker than the first. I reached for it, sliding the contents out. Photographs, typed reports, scribbled notes. Evidence smelled faintly of ink and steel, it always did.“This,” I said, spreading the pictures across the glass table, “is from the ambush. Timas Reznikov. Russian.”The name thickened the air. Nico leaned forward, snatching a page with the man’s profile. His smirk was sharp, but his tone carried disdain.“Timas Reznikov,” Nico drawled. “The brat who thinks he’s a predator when the lions aren’t around. Big name back home, sure, but reputation’s all muscle, no brain. His tactics are brutal, impulsive. He doesn’t hunt equals, he preys on weakness. That ambush?” He tapped the photograph of shattered glass at the restaurant. “Impulse. He wanted a trophy. To show the Executioner he’s worth sitting at the table.”My fingers tr
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent The Strategic Meeting
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE AFTERNOON Nikolai placed the leather folder on the table with quiet efficiency. I shifted closer to Dante, letting my thigh brush his, before opening the documents. The earlier noise in the suite, Carlos’s clinginess, Nico’s smirks, fell into silence the moment I spoke.“Voronin has been busy.” My fingers flipped through the first pages. “Negotiations with the small fry in Russia. Not the dons who matter, but the ones no one notices. Look here.” I tapped the list of names. “Petty bosses, little reach, no seat at the table. And yet… he ties threads through them.”Carlos scoffed beside me, leaning lazily against the back of my chair. “That’s laughable. What good are shrimps when sharks are circling?”I turned to him, eyes sharp. “Sharks don’t notice shrimps. But shrimps see everything. Voronin’s building a web. Not power. Information.”Dante still hadn’t spoken. He skimmed the
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent A Little Reintroduction
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE AFTERNOON The knock came just as I expected, two sharp raps, not tentative, not commanding. Nico’s timing was precise as always, and Carlos… well, Carlos never arrived alone if he could help it.I rose from the couch, Dante still beside me, his palm heavy on my thigh, reminding me of where I belonged even as he bristled with suspicion.The door opened, and there they were, Nico in his usual relaxed posture, smirk tugging his lips, eyes already assessing Dante like a hawk circling prey. And Carlos, my Carlos, my baby brother, stepping in with a grin too bright for a world this dark.For a beat, silence. Tension coiled thick in the air.“Carlos,” I breathed, and before Dante could tighten his grip, I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around my brother. No masks. No hesitation. Just me.His arms squeezed me back, almost crushing, almost childlike. “Sorellina,” he sai
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CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE MORNING The morning light spilled through the sheer curtains, gilding Dante’s skin in a way that made him look more myth than man. My cheek rested against his chest, the steady thud of his heart still violent even in sleep, as though even his dreams fought wars. We were tangled, skin to skin, our limbs a knot that neither of us had any intention of loosening. When his lashes fluttered open, his eyes found me instantly, sharp, focused, obsessed. His palm came up, cupping my jaw, dragging his thumb over my lips like he had to remind himself I was here, not some apparition he’d dreamed up. “You’re awake,” he murmured, voice rough with the night. “I never really slept,” I confessed, pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. “Too many thoughts.” His mouth curved in that dark way of his, a smile and a
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Unpretentious Sex
DANTE'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE NIGHTI wanted to be wrecked. I wanted to be ruined and built again and marked like property. I wanted her to take me the way she’d taken everything else she wanted, precise, brutal, personal. When the gun skittered across the floor and the metal clinked like a surrender, I felt my breath change. Adrenaline was still raw but under it something cleaner rose, want shaped like a blade.She moved first. Of course she moved first. Catalina doesn’t wait for permission when she wants to own something.She climbed me like a tide. Her mouth was at my throat before my hands had time to register, lips hot, teeth grazing the pulse there. God, the way she kissed, claiming, not asking. Her hands flattened on my chest and pushed, forcing me back into the mattress, and when her mouth found mine it wasn’t some gentle, cautious tasting. It was a hard, wet thing that tasted of blood and
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