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Legally Making Face
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2025-11-04 08:00:00CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE
VERONA, ITALYMorning sunlight spilled through the tall windows of Dante’s study, cutting across the dark wood like gold over shadow. The air smelled of ink, coffee, and authority.He was already at his desk when I walked in, sleeves rolled, reading through a folder thick enough to crush a lesser man.“Early,” he said without looking up.“Effective,” I replied, setting down my own stack of documents beside his. “We have work to legalize our empire before Italy forgets who runs it.”That made him look up. His eyes were sharp, but there was something else there, a faint pride he wouldn’t voice. “You’ve been busy.”“Always.” I sat across from him, crossing one leg over the other. “I’ve been in touch with the council in Verona and Milan. They’re willing to approve the public school and clinic initiative, under your name.”Dante leaned back. “Mine?”“Yes.” I slid the folder toward hi
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My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Restructuring The Claimed Territories
CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVE ITALYThe air reeked of blood and smoke as I stepped over bodies littering Bassano’s streets, my boots crunching on shattered glass. Ricci’s men lay broken, gunned down, throats slit, not a single one spared. My crew moved like vultures, stripping weapons, torching trucks, and dragging corpses to the river. The Brenta swallowed them without a trace. I scanned the carnage through my binoculars, Carlos still standing in the square, blood dripping from his knife, his men securing the perimeter. He’d held the line, just like I knew he would.I pressed my earpiece, voice cold. “Nikolai, finish the cleanup. No loose ends. Every body, every bullet, gone.”“On it, capo,” Nikolai replied, his men already hauling crates and burning evidence.I switched channels, calling Dante. “Tesoro, it’s done. Ricci’s down, Russians too, all dead. Bassano’s ours. Hit the west now, full sweep. Take every fucking inch of
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Ricci's Downfall
CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVEBASSANO DEL GRAPPA, ITALYSunset bled red over the Brenta River, the sky turning to bruised purple as shadows swallowed the warehouse. My men were ghosts in the dark, snipers perched on rooftops, scouts hunkered in the reeds, Nikolai barking low orders through the comms. I crouched at the river’s edge, binoculars pressed to my eyes, Glock heavy on my hip. We’d been locked in since last night, no sleep, just adrenaline and black coffee. Ricci’s move was coming, and I was ready to make him regret every fucking step.My phone buzzed, Nico. “Catalina, my guy inside confirmed, Ricci’s rolling out. Trucks loaded, Russians leading the charge. They’re heading for Bassano now, full force.”“Good,” I said, voice like ice. “Tell the spy to pull out. No traces.”“Already gone,” Nico replied. “He’s out clean. Your call on the strike.”I switched to the earpiece channel for my crew. “Hold po
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Preparing For The Turf War
CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVE BRENTA RIVER, ITALY The Brenta River’s banks were dark and silent, the water a black ribbon under the moonless sky. For days, I’d been moving my men into position, silent as death, taking out Ricci’s scouts one by one, knives to throats, bodies dumped in the current. My crew slipped into their places, wearing stolen jackets with Ricci’s crest, posing as his own. Each night, we tightened our grip, setting up a makeshift base in an abandoned warehouse along the river, crates of ammo and guns stacked in the shadows. No one saw us. No one heard us. We were fucking ghosts. Dante was holding the west, just like I told him, his men ready to carve up Ricci’s smaller turfs in Treviso and Mestre. He was in position, waiting for my signal to strike, a wolf on a leash, and I knew he was itching to tear into something.
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent A Double Plan
CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVELUCCHESE ESTATE NIGHTThe study’s heavy oak door clicked shut as I stepped inside, the scent of leather and whiskey thick in the air. Dante was already there, leaning against his desk, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the king who’d just charmed a senator into submission. His eyes locked on me, dark and intense, as I crossed the room and slid onto his lap, straddling him. My fingers traced his jaw, his stubble rough under my touch, while his hands settled on my hips, pulling me closer, a casual intimacy that felt like home.“Talk,” he said, voice low, his thumb brushing the curve of my waist.I leaned in, lips grazing his ear. “Nico’s heading to Bassano tonight to brief Carlos on Ricci’s moves. I’m backing my brother once we confirm the dates. Ricci’s Russian dogs, Roma, Kolya, Dima, are gunning for his turf. We need to make sure Carlos is ready to bleed them dry.”Dan
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Her Brother's Turf Is Their Target
CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVEITALYMorning sun burned through the estate’s windows as I zipped up my boots, the house dead quiet without Dante. He’d peeled out at dawn for a meeting with a Senator in Rome, cutting deals to keep our empire’s shiny mask intact. I checked my phone, 9:03 AM, no texts. Perfect. Time to hunt. I was done playing spy from a distance; today, I’d stalk Ricci’s turf in Padua myself, get eyes on his slimy moves. I threw on a black leather jacket, shoved a Glock under my shirt, and tucked a blade in my boot. Ricci’s crew was still licking their wounds from the port we torched, and I’d make damn sure they stayed spooked. I hit the road, my sedan eating up the miles to Padua. The city was a circus, tourists clogging the streets, vendors slinging espresso. I parked near Piazza della Frutta, cap low, blending in like a ghost. By noon, I’d clocked one of Ricci’s lieu
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Playing It Cool
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVEVERONA, ITALYMorning light sliced through the curtains, hitting the bedroom floor as I stepped out of the bathroom, toweling my hair dry. I’d already showered, the steam still clinging to my skin, and slipped into a plain white t-shirt and jeans, casual, unassuming, perfect for blending in. Dante stirred on the bed, sheets tangled around his hips, his bare chest marked with scratches from last night. His eyes cracked open, dark and heavy, tracking me as I moved to the dresser.“Where the fuck are you going?” he asked, voice rough with sleep, propping himself on one elbow.I smirked, crossing the room to him, my hips swaying just enough to catch his attention. I leaned down, kissing him slow and deep, my tongue teasing his until he growled low in his throat. Pulling back, I held his gaze, lips hovering an inch from his. “I’m heading to Ricci’s territory. Surveillance. Need to see what he’s plann
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