Library
Maghanap
Home / Romance / My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent / The Mask Slipping

Share

The Mask Slipping

Author: Nyxenite
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-10-18 08:00:10

CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE

PARIS, FRANCE

NIGHT

Dante didn’t slow his stride as we cut through the smoke-stung parking lot. His hand was a vise around mine, pulling me toward the car like the only way forward was through speed and silence.

“Lucchese.” Henri’s voice carried from behind, calm but edged with authority.

Dante didn’t so much as tilt his head. He yanked the car door open, practically shoving me toward the seat.

“You’ll want to hear this,” Henri called again, footsteps approaching. “That boy wasn’t aiming for you.”

That word stopped him. You.

Dante turned his head, jaw flexing, the vein at his temple pulsing. His hand stayed on the doorframe, the other braced on my waist. His silence was louder than Henri’s accusation.

Henri, unfazed, added, “Reznikov was aiming for your wife.”

The air snapped taut. Dante’s grip tightened until I thought his fingers would bruise my skin. He didn’t like b
Patuloy na basahin ang aklat na ito nang libre
I-scan ang code upang i-download ang App
Locked Chapter
Nakaraang Kabanata Susunod na kabanata

Pinakabagong kabanata

  • My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent    His Rage on Her Abduction

    DANTE’S PERSPECTIVE VERONA, ITALY – 09:27 a.m., the morning after the attack I came to on the study floor with the taste of copper and defeat in my mouth. The room spun. My ribs screamed. But the silence, that was the worst part. No heartbeat against my back. No small hand clutching my shirt. Catalina was gone. I roared; a sound that tore my throat raw; and surged up, kicking the ruined door off its hinges. The hallway was a graveyard of my men, all breathing, all useless. Carlos staggered in from the east wing, face gray, eyes wild. “Dante-” “He took her,” I snarled, voice cracking. “From my fucking house!” Carlos grabbed my shoulders, trying to anchor me. “I know. I know, fratello. But we lose our heads now and she’s dead.” Nico burst through the shattered French doors, phone clam

  • My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent    She's Playing Another Act

    CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVE SOCHI, RUSSIA – Weeks 25–27 The days blurred into a velvet cage. Gavriil never raised his voice. He never forced his mouth on mine. He never dragged me to his bed. He simply… became my husband. He woke me every morning with a soft knock and a tray he carried himself: warm milk with orange blossom honey, fresh figs, whatever craving I’d murmured in my sleep the night before. He sat on the edge of my bed and watched me eat, eyes drinking in every bite like it was communion. He brushed my hair when it tangled. He knelt to slip socks on my swollen feet. He read to me in Russian and Italian, voice low, fingers tracing idle circles on my belly while the baby kicked against his palm. And he never let anyone else look at me. I learned that the hard way on the seventh day. I had w

  • My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent    She's Inside The Lion's Den

    CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVE SOCHI, RUSSIA – Day 3 after abduction I woke to the steady beep of a monitor and the sting of a needle in my left hand. Dextrose. Saline. Fetal heart-rate monitor strapped across my belly. The room smelled of antiseptic and cedar. Heavy velvet drapes blocked all daylight, but a single lamp painted everything in muted gold. I kept my eyes closed, breathing slow, counting heartbeats. The door opened with a soft click. Footsteps: light, feminine, rubber-soled. A woman’s voice, low, professional. “Pressure stable. Fetal heartbeat one-fifty-five. Perfect.” She adjusted the drip. I waited until her back turned. Then I moved. I ripped the needle from my vein; blood sprayed across white sheets; and launched myself off the bed. Pain shot up my arm, b

  • My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent    She's Abducted

    CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVEVERONA, ITALY – Week 24, 03:14 a.m.Four days of absolute silence.No shadows.No drones.No whispers in the streets.Even Nico’s empire of ears went deaf.The Executioner had vanished like smoke through a keyhole.We let ourselves believe, for one dangerous heartbeat, that he had retreated.We were wrong.The first canister shattered the kitchen skylight at 03:14.The second punched through the ballroom’s French doors.The third rolled down the grand staircase like a child’s toy.Colorless, odorless, merciless.I was in the bedroom, barefoot in one of Dante’s black shirts, reaching for water, when the glass exploded behind me.A soft hiss.Then the world tilted.Dante was already moving, gun in hand, roaring my name.He reached me in two strides, yanked me against his chest, hand over my mouth and nose, dragging me backward toward the stud

  • My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent    The Executioner, Reliving Her Past

    CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVEVERONA, ITALY – Weeks 21–23He no longer skulked.He walked in broad daylight, coat open, scar bared to the sun, and let every camera in Italy drink him in.Nico’s feeds became a private gallery of obsession.Monday – 09:14Via Mazzini, Verona.Outside Tessabit, where I bought the emerald silk gown for the Mosconi gala six months ago.He stood in the exact spot the paparazzi had caught me, hands loose at his sides, staring at the window display that still featured the same dress on a mannequin. He reached out, gloved fingertip tracing the glass where my reflection had once been. Security stepped forward. He turned, looked straight into Nico’s traffic-light lens, and gave that small, civilized smile. Then walked away.Tuesday – 14:07Gelateria Savoia, Verona.The corner table I claimed every Sunday before I got pregnant.He sat, ordered two cones: so

  • My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent    The Threat on the Unborn

    CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVEVERONA, ITALY – 4:47 a.m., Week 20The war room was a cathedral of red light and cold steel.Nico stood at the center like a priest about to deliver last rites, hands dancing across three keyboards at once. Dante and I flanked him, shoulder to shoulder, both of us armed to the teeth. My Glock pressed against the small of my back; Dante’s hand never left the custom 1911 on his hip. The baby had gone eerily still, as if listening.Nico didn’t look up when he spoke.“Voronin just cashed in every favor he’ll ever have. Three dead oligarchs, one suicide in Lubyanka, and a retired GRU colonel who pissed himself on camera. We have the full file.”He hit a key.The wall lit up with a single service photograph, 1998.A boy, barely eighteen, in cadet uniform. Same scar, still pink and fresh, slicing from left eye to cheekbone. Name redacted. Birthplace redacted. Only one lin

Higit pang Kabanata

Maaari mong magustuhan

Galugarin at basahin ang magagandang nobela
Libreng basahin ang magagandang nobela sa GoodNovel app. I-download ang mga librong gusto mo at basahin kahit saan at anumang oras.
Libreng basahin ang mga aklat sa app
I-scan ang code para mabasa sa App
DMCA.com Protection Status