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Chapter 50: Under the Table

Author: Cisa
last update publish date: 2026-10-05 04:51:27

Sophia's POV

Glass rained across the kitchen floor like ice. I dropped beneath the table on my hands and knees, and the world narrowed to the grain of the wood above my head and the ringing in my ears. Somewhere to my left, a shotgun roared. The sound was enormous, a physical blow that rattled the pans on their hooks, and I heard a man scream outside, high and furious.

"Two at the window!" Chris's voice, calm as a priest's. "One at the back door, Isabella."

"I hear him."

I peered between the
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  • Sold to the Mafia king: The De Luca Bride    Chapter 50: Under the Table

    Sophia's POV Glass rained across the kitchen floor like ice. I dropped beneath the table on my hands and knees, and the world narrowed to the grain of the wood above my head and the ringing in my ears. Somewhere to my left, a shotgun roared. The sound was enormous, a physical blow that rattled the pans on their hooks, and I heard a man scream outside, high and furious."Two at the window!" Chris's voice, calm as a priest's. "One at the back door, Isabella.""I hear him."I peered between the table legs. My mother stood braced against the wall beside the shattered window with the shotgun at her shoulder, her thin frame absolutely steady. She did not look like a woman who had spent eight years in hiding. She looked like she had been born holding that gun. She fired again, and a dark shape outside the window stumbled backward and fell into the garden.Chris was crouched behind the stove with a pistol I had not seen him draw, his eyes fixed on the back door. A shadow moved across its fr

  • Sold to the Mafia king: The De Luca Bride    Chapter 49: Gunshots

    Chi sei?" Who are you? A woman's voice, low and hoarse, with the cadence I had heard in my dreams. "Who is with you, Chris?""It is her, Isabella. It is Sophia."For a long time nothing happened. The shotgun did not waver. Behind it, in the shadow of the doorway, I could see only a pair of dark eyes and a pale line at the hairline where something had once split the skin. The woman who had sung me to sleep had been warm and golden and laughing. The one before me was thin as a rail, her hair threaded with gray and scraped into a knot, her mouth a hard line. She looked at me as though I were a trap."Mamma," I whispered."Don't." The word cracked like a whip. "Do not call me that. Not yet."The shotgun stayed up. I raised both hands, my palms trembling. "I came with Chris. No one else. I swear it.""Anyone could say that." Her gaze raked over my face, my coat, the car behind me. "You look like her. You look so much like her that it makes my teeth ache. But my memory is a broken plate, an

  • Sold to the Mafia king: The De Luca Bride    Chapter 48: The Woman Behind the Door

    Sophia's POV Enola was sitting up when I came into her room the next morning, with a tray of untouched toast on her lap and her hair brushed for the first time since the tunnels. The bandages on her wrists had been changed. She looked small and fragile against the white pillows, but her eyes were clear, and when she saw me, she held out both arms like she had when we were girls."You came early," she said into my shoulder."I couldn't sleep." I pulled back and sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand. "How do you feel?""Like I fell down a well and climbed out with my fingernails." She tried to laugh and it caught. "Sofi, I need to say something, and I need you not to interrupt.""I never interrupt.""You interrupt constantly." She almost smiled. Then the smile died. "I went into that crypt because I was angry. Not brave, Sofi. Angry. Everyone in this family has lied to me my whole life. Mamma, Zio Adrian, even you, a little, because you left and never explained. I wanted to kno

  • Sold to the Mafia king: The De Luca Bride    Chapter 47: What I Owe

    Sophia's POV I read my father's line three times, and each time the ink seemed to darken on the page. *Chi me l'ha data è ancora in questa casa.* The one who gave it to me is still in this house. I closed the diary and pressed it against my knees, and the lemon trees rustled above us as though they were listening."Which house?" I asked. My voice came out thin. "Ours? Because if he meant the Rossi house...""I have asked myself that every night for a year." Chris stared at the dark garden. "Adrian wrote it long before he died, and he never named anyone. Whoever handed him that false proof stood close enough to Rossi walls that he trusted them. I have no name. Only a suspicion that they are still breathing."I looked toward the French windows. Luca had not moved, but I knew he had heard every word, because his shoulders had gone rigid beneath his shirt. I rose from the bench. My legs felt unsteady, and I let them carry me away before I did something foolish, like asking Chris whether

  • Sold to the Mafia king: The De Luca Bride    Chapter 46: What the House Remembers

    Sophia's POV We reached the house in nineteen minutes, a drive that should have taken forty. Luca did not speak. He held the wheel in a white-knuckled grip while Vincent called ahead and shouted orders into the radio, and I sat in the back with Rosa's head on my shoulder and my nails driving crescents into my palms. *Domani è il suo turno.* I recited it like a curse. Tomorrow is his turn. I had spent eight years learning to carry my brother out of rooms that were on fire. I would not be late now.The iron gates stood open. Two guards lay sprawled in the gravel with their weapons beside them, and one of them was groaning. Luca was out of the car before it stopped. I ran behind him through the front door and up the marble stairs, shouting Matteo's name, and every cold fear I had ever had rose in my throat.Paolo lay face down in the east corridor. A syringe glinted on the carpet beside him. Three more guards sat slumped against the wall with their eyes rolled back, breathing slowly, dr

  • Sold to the Mafia king: The De Luca Bride    Chapter 45: The Edge of the Rock

    Sophia's POV "Out," the voice crackled again. "Ninety seconds, Chris. Then I start counting her breaths."I crouched behind the iron stair with Luca's arm locked across my back, my father's diary digging into my ribs, and watched my aunt through the broken window. The wind had torn her braid loose. She stood at the very lip of the cliff with her wrists bound and her eyes shut, her lips moving in what I knew was a prayer. The man behind her wore a black mask and held the pistol steady against her temple."I am going out," Chris said."You are going to die out there," Luca said flatly."Perhaps." Chris did not look away from the window. "But he does not want me dead yet, or he would have shot me through the glass. He wants me standing in the open, where he can see my face. That gives you a minute, De Luca. Use it.""Why should I help you?""You should not." His dark eyes finally met mine, and something passed through them, grief or apology. "Do it for her. She raised the girl who is c

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