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The Driver
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2025-09-03 08:00:45CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE
LA ROSA NERA MARCINI'S WAREHOUSE - NIGHT Marcini’s voice cracked under the weight of pain and fear. “You....you think you stopped something? That fire, that shipment you burned-” he coughed, shaking, blood pooling around his ruined foot. “That wasn’t just random stock. That was the final delivery.” Dante’s eyes sharpened, the predatory stillness settling over him. “Final to who?” Marcini hesitated. A mistake. Another soft click echoed as I pulled the hammer back again. His eyes bulged, panic forcing his tongue loose. “Moretti! It was Moretti’s! His collection...cars, prototypes, guns fitted inside. He’s been waiting for months....months!” The name dropped like acid. Dante’s jaw flexed, his teeth grinding audibly. “Carlos Moretti.” Nico gave a low whistle, amusement dripping from him like smoke. “Well, isn’t that poetic. Italy’s golden collector unknowingly being sp
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My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Voronin Confirmed in Her Territory
CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVELIBRERIA FIORETTA Morning The morning was quiet. Too quiet. Sunlight spilled through the bookstore’s tall windows, catching the dust motes in golden shimmer. I’d been stacking the latest shipment of books on the oak table, the smell of fresh paper comforting, almost enough to let me pretend the world outside wasn’t crawling with vipers.The bell above the door rang violently, more slammed open than gently pushed. Nico stormed in like a bullet that had missed its mark but refused to stop moving. His coat was half open, hair wild from the morning wind, his grin nowhere to be seen.“Rosa.” He didn’t even bother with Catalina. He never did when the mask was useless. His voice was a crack of thunder in my peaceful morning. “Voronin.”I straightened slowly, brushing imaginary dust from my hands, calm where he was chaos. “What about him?”Nico slammed his palm on the counter, eyes bright and f
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Foreign Infiltration Confirmed
CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVELA ROSA NERA CAR - UNDERGROUND SHOWROOM MIDNIGHT - DAWNThe leather of the backseat pressed cool against my legs as I leaned back, hands folded neatly on my lap. Renzo drove with the steady precision I expected, Alfonzo at his side, silent and alert. Nico sat beside me, muscles taut, eyes scanning every passing shadow like the city itself could betray us.“Still can’t believe you did it,” Nico muttered, voice ragged, low. “Just… pulled it off. No warning, no mercy.”I didn’t answer. I let the silence hang, letting him stew. My lips curved faintly, just enough to tease, not enough to soothe.The underground showroom appeared, a maze of polished, modified cars, the hum of clandestine commerce thick in the air. Alfonzo shifted, lifting the bag. I watched, detached, as he flung it into the crowd. The head skidded across the concrete, rolling to a stop between the sleek, armored cars.Chaos erupted immediat
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent Nico's Reward - She Kneeled
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE LA ROSA NERA CAR - MIDNIGHT I didn’t look back. The flames could swallow Marcini whole, they could carry his arrogance into ash. It didn’t matter. Nico followed. Not because I called for him, but because he never lets me walk away alone. I slid into my car and, as expected, he left his behind. A silent choice. Mine over his. The doors shut, sealing us in that quiet where smoke still clung to the night. “You’ve lit a fuse,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. “Dante will come for blood.” “He already does,” I answered, smoothing my dress over my knees. “One Russian boss less in Italy is one step closer to peace. Or control. Whichever word tastes better to you.” His eyes lingered. Measuring me, like always. “You make it sound simple.” “It is.” That silence stretched, until he leaned closer. The flicker of fire outs
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent His Ground Turned Hers
DANTE’S PERSPECTIVE MARCINI’S WAREHOUSE – NIGHT That bitch just shot him. No hesitation. Just steel, smoke, and silence where a man’s begging used to be. Marcini’s body slumped, his blood running like filth across his own floor. Worthless bastard. Gave up an alias and then died like the rat he was. The Driver. I clenched my teeth so hard it rattled through my skull. The fucking Driver. Roman Voronin. A Russian thief dressed up as a king, thinking he can carve highways through Europe and step foot into Italy like it’s his racetrack. My racetrack. And she, La Rosa Nera, she sat there like the execution was nothing. Veil, voice twisted mechanical through that changer of hers, tone cutting into me like iron. “Marcini was already dead,” she said, cold, like it was fact, not choice. “He gave us what we needed. Nothing more.” Needed? I didn’t need scraps. I needed that Russian
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent The Driver
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE LA ROSA NERA MARCINI'S WAREHOUSE - NIGHT Marcini’s voice cracked under the weight of pain and fear. “You....you think you stopped something? That fire, that shipment you burned-” he coughed, shaking, blood pooling around his ruined foot. “That wasn’t just random stock. That was the final delivery.” Dante’s eyes sharpened, the predatory stillness settling over him. “Final to who?” Marcini hesitated. A mistake. Another soft click echoed as I pulled the hammer back again. His eyes bulged, panic forcing his tongue loose. “Moretti! It was Moretti’s! His collection...cars, prototypes, guns fitted inside. He’s been waiting for months....months!” The name dropped like acid. Dante’s jaw flexed, his teeth grinding audibly. “Carlos Moretti.” Nico gave a low whistle, amusement dripping from him like smoke. “Well, isn’t that poetic. Italy’s golden collector unknowingly being sp
My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent La Rosa Nera Doesn't Bluff
CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE LA ROSA NERA MARCINI'S WAREHOUSE - NIGHT Marcini’s throat bobbed as the barrels leveled at him. His eyes kept flicking, desperate, toward Dante, toward Nico, toward me. Nico’s arm cinched tighter around my waist, dragging me further into his lap, like I was the seat of his throne. His pistol stayed steady on Marcini, but the curl of his lips was for me alone. “You hear that silence? He thinks it’ll save him. Adorable.” Dante’s jaw locked, but his voice was all gravel and blade. “Silence won’t save you, Marcini. Not from us.” His gun didn’t so much as tremble. Marcini stammered, “If I speak… they’ll carve me alive. If I don’t… you’ll-” I lifted my gun, slow, deliberate. The black steel caught the light as it aligned with his chest. No eyes to see, no lips to read, only the muzzle staring him down like a cold, unblinking gaze.
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