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Chapter One Hundred and Ten: The Night Breaks First
Terakhir Diperbarui:
2025-07-31 21:17:09
Jhumie_writesIn this chapter, Lucien and Emilia didn’t fix everything. But they did something brave, they reached. They let their guard down just long enough to remind each other of what still exists beneath the wreckage: care, longing, maybe even love.
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Sold To The Mafia Lord Chapter One Hundred and Eleven: Whispers
The sheets were cold when Emilia woke.Lucien was gone.No footsteps. No whispered goodbye. Just the scent of his cologne lingering faintly in the pillows and a shirt draped over the armchair by the window. She sat up slowly, letting the silence crawl over her skin like a second layer. It was still early, maybe 7 a.m., maybe earlier. But the air already felt off.Like something had shifted again.She reached toward the side of the bed he had occupied just hours ago, brushing her fingers over the indentation left behind. He’d held her through the night. She remembered the way his hand had rested low on her back, warm and steady, the rare beat of vulnerability in his voice when he whispered, “I don’t want to lose you.”And yet, he left. Quietly. Without a word.That’s who he was, wasn’t he?Emilia slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, wrapping one of the silk robes around her body. As she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, she tried not to feel that familiar sting in her che
Sold To The Mafia Lord Chapter One Hundred and Ten: The Night Breaks First
She had never known silence could be so loud.Emilia lay on her side, eyes open, staring into the darkness of the room she once felt safe in. The sheets were cold against her skin, untouched by his warmth, even though he lay just inches behind her. They hadn’t spoken in hours. Not since he walked in, not since she pretended to be asleep, not even when the lamp clicked off and the room fell into a suffocating hush.She wasn’t angry.She was exhausted.Exhausted from pretending. From tiptoeing around words she didn’t have the strength to say. From trying to understand a man who didn’t want to be understood, who only wanted loyalty, silence, and obedience.Lucien had always demanded presence. Control. But never this kind of… distance.He had turned cold. And in response, so had she.She could feel him behind her now. Awake. His breathing wasn’t steady, not the slow rhythm of sleep. He shifted once. Then again. Sheets rustling. A sigh, quiet, almost pained.Then stillness.She didn’t move.
Sold To The Mafia Lord Chapter One Hundred and Nine: Shaky
The hallway was silent, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that soothed Lucien Moretti.It was the kind that warned.His footsteps echoed against the marble floors as he made his way to the bedroom, shoulders heavy beneath the weight of everything he didn’t say during the day. The meetings had run late. Julio was unreachable. One of their informants had turned up dead in a ditch with his fingernails missing. And every word from the council came with double meanings and veiled threats.Still, none of it bothered him as much as what waited on the other side of that bedroom door.He pushed it open quietly.She was already in bed.Emilia lay on her side, back facing the door, her form curled beneath the duvet. She didn’t stir. Didn’t speak. Didn’t flinch.Lucien stood in the doorway for a moment longer than necessary, a subtle tension creeping up the back of his neck. The bedroom lights were dimmed, casting everything in amber shadows. Her long hair spilled over the pillow, and from where h
Sold To The Mafia Lord Chapter One Hundred and Eight: Messy
He should’ve known the peace wouldn’t last.Julio was still half awake when Kira rolled out of bed, wrapped herself in the sheet, and padded toward the window. The city lights cut through her silhouette, casting her in muted gold. Her back was to him, her voice low and hesitant in a way he’d never heard before.“You should leave.”He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. “Leave what?”“Lucien. The estate. All of it. Lay low for a while.”His brows furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”“They’re going to come for him, Julio,” she said quietly. “And when they do, they won’t stop with him. They’ll come for everyone close to him. That means you.”He swung his legs out of bed, all traces of calm stripped away. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve been on the frontlines since day one.”“I know,” she said softly, not turning around. “That’s what scares me.”“Lucien’s my brother,” Julio snapped. “I ride with him. I bleed with him. I die for him if it comes to that. You think I’m
Sold To The Mafia Lord Chapter One Hundred and Seven: A Moment Like This
The house smelled faintly of lemon oil and burnt garlic.Julio paused at the door, confused. He hadn’t been here in over three weeks, maybe longer. The silence inside was thick, but not empty. The lights in the hallway were dimmed, soft jazz hummed low from the kitchen, and his coat hit the floor the moment he stepped inside.He didn’t need to say her name.Kira stepped out of the kitchen barefoot, hair scraped up into a messy bun, wearing one of his old T-shirts that hung too wide around her shoulders. She wiped her hand on a dishtowel, her expression unreadable as always.“I thought the cleaner came,” he said, eyes skimming over the gleaming floors and the scented candles flickering along the hallway table. “Did you call her?”“Nope.” She lifted a shoulder. “Just me. Thought you’d want to come back to somewhere that didn’t smell like dust and old whiskey.”He looked around again. She’d vacuumed, done the dishes, and even picked up a few things for the fridge. There were fresh towels
Sold To The Mafia Lord Chapter One hundred and Six: Liability
The conservatory was cold now.Not just from the storm outside, though that didn’t help, the glass roof trembled under the weight of the wind, and each crack of thunder rattled through her ribs. But the real cold was inside her. Settling deep in the pit of her chest. A frost that no fire could melt.Lucien had walked out and never looked back.Emilia didn’t blame him. She’d screamed at him. Called him a bastard. Told him she loved him in the same breath she accused him of becoming a monster.God, she had meant it.Every syllable. Every second. Every ache behind the words.But love wasn’t a shield here. It didn’t protect you. It didn’t soften the world, it sharpened it. And now, alone in the echo of her confession, Emilia felt something splinter.She pressed her palm against her chest, right over her heart, like she could contain it. Like she could force her body to stop remembering the way he looked at her. The way his voice had broken when he said she hadn’t lost him. The way his arms
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