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12. POISONED TRUST

Author: Frya Isaac
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-03-17 17:34:39

The locket against her skin pulsed faintly, warm—alive.

“Say no.” Kael’s voice came immediately. Low. Controlled. Too controlled.

Evie didn’t answer. Her fingers traced the edge of the invitation instead, slower this time, as if she could feel something underneath the paper—something unspoken. Or maybe she was just buying time.

“It’s a setup,” he continued. “Victoria doesn’t invite people to dinner unless she plans to gain something from it.”

A faint smile curved her lips. “Like you?”

“That’s d
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  • The Mafia King’s Fake Widow   23. Shattered Empires

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  • The Mafia King’s Fake Widow   22. The Dinner of Vipers

    The sterile white light of the hospital room reflected off the tablet’s screen, making Evie’s mother look even paler than she was. "You look tired, Evelyn," her mother whispered. "The Voss mansion… is it as cold as they say?" Evie forced a smile, her heart aching. She was sitting in her lavish dressing room, surrounded by silks and diamonds that felt like gilded shackles. "It’s just a big house, Mom. I’m fine. The doctors say your vitals are stabilizing. That’s all that matters." "Be careful," her mother breathed. "Power like theirs… it doesn't just corrupt. It consumes." The call ended with a soft chime, leaving Evie in a silence that felt heavy with dread. She stared at her reflection. She was wearing a gown of midnight blue—expensive, sharp, and chosen by Kael for its ‘defensive’ silhouette. Tonight was not just a dinner; it was a trial. Victoria had summoned her, and Victoria never summoned anyone without a blade hidden in her smile. The dining hall was a cavern of obs

  • The Mafia King’s Fake Widow   21. The Silent Witness

    The gunshot cracked like thunder in the moonlit room, shattering a centuries-old crystal carafe on the mahogany desk. Kael moved before Evie could even scream. His reaction was a blur of practiced, lethal instinct. He caught her by the waist. His large hand splaying across the small of her back, and shoved her behind the heavy table. His pistol was already in his hand. The intruder’s first shot slammed into the shelf behind them, pulping a first-edition Tolstoy and sending white fragments of paper fluttering through the air like dying moths. "Hello, son," a distorted voice hissed from the darkness of the gallery. It was a mocking, electronic rasp. "Miss me?" Kael didn’t answer with words. He answered with fire. He leaned around the edge of the table, his frame a wall of muscle shielding Evie’s trembling body. Two shots fired in rapid succession. The suppressed muffs sounding like heavy heartbeats. The intruder dove behind a marble pedestal, returning fire. Bullets punched throug

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