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104

Author: S.K Hart
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-08-09 06:57:51

Dinner was served in a grand dining hall that felt more like a courtroom than a place to share a meal. The ceilings stretched high, the chandeliers hanging low with soft, amber light that didn’t quite touch the far corners. A long polished table ran almost the full length of the room, and Vera felt small sitting at one end of it.

Her eyes drifted toward the head of the table—toward him.

Their father sat in his wheelchair, a nurse at his side, patiently spooning small portions into his mouth. He chewed slowly, eyes fixed on nothing.

She wondered if he could even hear them… if he knew she was here.

The quiet between clinks of silverware felt heavier than the stone walls around them.

Leila sat beside her, offering little nudges and smiles, keeping her from feeling completely swallowed by the cold space. Vera didn’t say much, but the simple presence of her friend was enough to keep her anchored. Without her, this place—this family—might have felt like a foreign land she’d never survive.

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...️...️...️Vera the anchor
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  • Mafia King’s Regret: Winning Rebellious Bride Back   110

    Roman’s eyes opened slowly, as if his lids weighed a hundred pounds each. His vision blurred at first, the shadows around him swimming into focus. His left eye was swollen shut, a dull throbbing radiating through his skull. His lower lip was split and bleeding, the metallic taste thick on his tongue.His wrists ached where the rope bit deep into raw skin, and his hands were tied so tight he could barely feel his fingers except for the searing sting where fingernails had been ripped out. Pain became another definition of his body, but not his thoughts. They were still hanging only for one word, one person- VeraHis clothes hung in tatters, soaked in sweat, dirt, and blood. The sound came next—creak… The dungeon door swung open, and light from the corridor spilled across the floor. Roman’s head felt heavy, but he forced himself to turn toward it. His neck protested, every movement sharp, but he flicked his one good eye toward the sound. Viktor stepped in, his presence filling the space.

  • Mafia King’s Regret: Winning Rebellious Bride Back   109

    Vera’s eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. Roman stood so close she could feel the heat radiating from him, one hand still cupping her mouth. She didn’t even try to pull it away. Her body was frozen—not from his grip, but from shock. She had never expected him here, in this room, in this moment.Then a thought hit her like a blow. If Viktor saw him—if he so much as caught a glimpse—he wouldn’t just throw Roman out. He’d kill him. Viktor had already promised as much. The punishment would be merciless.Roman must have read something in her eyes, because his own softened. Slowly, almost reluctantly, his hand dropped from her lips. His gaze didn’t waver. He drank her in as though he hadn’t seen her in years.“Vera…” he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue, and before she could form a single word, his lips were on hers. It wasn’t tentative. It was desperate, hungry. His mouth claimed hers like a man who’d been starved, and she felt herself pulled into the heat of him. His a

  • Mafia King’s Regret: Winning Rebellious Bride Back   108

    Vera stood in front of the tall mirror, her hands resting lightly at her sides. The gown she wore was a deep midnight blue, smooth and soft, shine under the light. It hugged her figure gently before flowing down to the floor, swaying slightly as she shifted her weight. The neckline framed her collarbones in a neat, elegant way, and her hair was pinned up, a few loose strands falling around her face. She looked every bit the part of a woman who belonged here, though inside, she didn’t feel that way at all. Leila was leaning against the vanity behind her, watching with a smile. “You look beautiful,” she said warmly as she fixed the hair pin. Vera glanced at her reflection again, almost as if she was searching for proof in her own eyes. “I don’t know, Leila… I feel like I’m somewhere I don’t belong. Like I’m living someone else’s life.” Leila stepped forward, her reflection joining Vera’s in the mirror. “It’s all new for you,” she said, “You’ve been through a lot, and it’s going to ta

  • Mafia King’s Regret: Winning Rebellious Bride Back   107

    “It all started,” he said slowly, “When your father, Domenico Benedetti, and I were friends. Or… should I say, I was his closest ally.”Marco’s gaze drifted for a moment, as if the memory itself was too vivid, too sharp to look at directly. “We built more than business together—we built trust. In a world like ours, that was rarer than gold.”Then, his eyes locked on Roman’s, holding him there. “Domenico and I… we became more than partners in this life. We became family, in our own way. I got married. Not long after, Domenico found his wife.” The words carried a faint smile, touched with something almost wistful, but it vanished quickly. “The years passed. He tried—God knows he tried—to have a child. But every time… something happened. Something unfortunate. And each time, he lost the baby.” Marco’s voice lowered, softer, as if saying the next part pulled at something deep inside him. “My wife… she and I were blessed. We had five children. At the time my wife was pregnant with our y

  • Mafia King’s Regret: Winning Rebellious Bride Back   106

    The flight to Italy had been a blur of restless thoughts and half-formed memories. Roman hadn’t slept; he hadn’t even bothered with the food or the drinks the attendants offered. Every minute that passed only drew him closer to a man he had spent years hating, a man whose name had been a curse in his household.When the car finally slowed, pulling into a quiet street lined with olive trees, Roman was almost taken aback by the sight before him. No iron gates. No armed guards. No grand mansion hidden behind high walls. Just a modest two-story house with a pale stucco exterior and green shutters weathered by time.As the driver eased to a stop, Roman stepped out into the warm Italian air. The hum of a lawn mower filled the space, blending with the chirping of distant birds. His gaze shifted—and there he was.Marco Ivankov.He was not the looming, dangerous figure Roman had carried in his mind for years. He was just an old man in worn boots and a faded shirt, pushing a mower across the pa

  • Mafia King’s Regret: Winning Rebellious Bride Back   105

    Roman sat forward on the edge of the leather armchair, elbows braced on his knees, head bowed as if the floor might offer answers. His skull throbbed with the dull, punishing weight of last night’s drinking—each heartbeat a reminder of how badly he’d tried to drown what wouldn’t leave him.The morning light was pale and unforgiving, slipping through the half-closed blinds across the room. Roman dragged a hand down his face, the rasp of stubble catching against his palm. He looked like he’d been carved out of exhaustion—eyes bloodshot, hair a disheveled mess, shoulders bowed as though the night’s weight hadn’t lifted with the sunrise.Alessio entered, but Roman didn’t lift his head. “I need to meet her,” he said, though speaking hurt more than his headache.Alessio leaned back in his chair, watching him with that unreadable stillness he carried like armor. “They took her home,” Alessio said after a pause. “To Russia.”For a moment, Roman didn’t move. The words hung in the air, heavy e

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