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235. Vacation
Last Updated:
2025-05-19 09:56:14
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The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 237. Alive
Daphne adjusted the strap of her duffel bag and pulled her baseball cap lower over her eyes as she walked into the airport.In a few hours, her vacation will begin.But something still felt wrong. Or maybe she was being paranoid. It wasn't like she never got rewarded by Father before. It was rare, but it did happen. She kept walking, her boots silent against the polished floor. But her spine tensed.She felt it...the prickling sensation between her shoulder blades. Like a thread being tugged at the back of her neck.She slowed, just slightly, and glanced at her reflection in the glass of a perfume shop window.Nothing out of place.A couple dragging wheeled suitcases. A group of young women taking selfies. A security guard sipping coffee by the doors.No eyes on her. No obvious threat.And yet... she knew the feeling of being watched. She'd felt it in training, when Father's men tested her alertness, when she failed to detect them and paid the price.Her fingers curled slightly.She
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 236. Back Home
Landon lowered himself carefully from the car, wincing as the movement pulled at his healing wounds. He dismissed his driver with a curt nod and stood for a moment, staring at his new townhouse.He’d purchased it three months ago as a backup. No one knew about this place except his family and a select few he trusted with his life. Perfect for a man who was supposed to be dead.Landon punched in the security code and stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the empty foyer. The place was sparsely furnished—a leather couch, a glass coffee table, a king-sized bed upstairs.“Home sweet home,” he muttered to the shadows.He dropped his bag by the door and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of scotch from the cabinet. No glass. He wasn’t feeling civilized tonight.As he took a long pull from the bottle, the burn of alcohol a welcome distraction from the persistent ache in his side, his phone vibrated in his pocket.He had tasked Max to find out where Daphne was and keep tabs on
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 235. Vacation
Father stared at Daphne like a predator, his cold eyes assessing her from head to toe. The debriefing had gone well—her report on Petrov’s elimination was clinical and thorough, exactly as he’d trained her to be.“The client was very pleased with the Prague job,” Father said, his voice unnervingly gentle. “Very clean. Very efficient.”Daphne remained perfectly still, her face a careful mask of neutrality. “Thank you, Father.”He stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of his cologne. His fingers reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.“I think you’ve earned a little vacation for doing such a good job,” he said, his lips curving into what might have been a smile on anyone else’s face. On his, it looked calculated. “Perhaps a week in Santorini? The villa there is… quiet this time of year.”Daphne blinked, unable to hide her surprise. Father rarely offered rewards. Only punishments for failure.“I—thank you,” she managed, her mind
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 234. Cut the Strings
“Two more, Ma’am,” the driver added, his voice tightening. “Silver sedan joining from the left.”Daphne’s muscles tensed. “Evasive maneuvers. Now.”The driver wrenched the wheel hard, sending the town car lurching into a narrow side street. Tires screeched against asphalt as they accelerated, the engine roaring to life with newfound urgency.The crack of gunfire shattered the night.The rear window exploded inward, glass fragments spraying across the backseat. Daphne dropped low, finding the gun hidden under the seat in one fluid motion.The black SUV barreled after them, its passenger leaning out the window with a pistol gleaming in the streetlights.Daphne squeezed the trigger twice. The first shot pinged off the hood; the second caught the shooter in the shoulder, sending him reeling back inside.The silver sedan swerved into view, cutting them off at the next intersection. Their driver cursed, cranking the wheel hard right, mounting the sidewalk. Pedestrians scattered, screaming.
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 233. Followed
Petrov dismissed his guards with a flick of his wrist. They retreated to the stairwell entrance, far enough to give privacy but close enough to respond if needed.“So,” he said, turning to face her, “now we are alone with the art. What shall we do?”Daphne moved closer, her silk dress whispering against the marble floor. “I’ve always believed art should be… experienced.” She trailed her fingers along his lapel. “Don’t you agree?”His eyes darkened with desire, exactly as she’d planned. Men like Petrov were predictable—power made them believe they were invincible, that they could take whatever they wanted. It made them careless.“I do,” he murmured, one thick hand settling on her waist. “And you are quite the masterpiece.”She smiled, letting him pull her closer. His cologne was expensive but overpowering, nothing like the subtle cedar and citrus that had clung to Landon’s skin.Landon.The thought of him flashed through her mind unbidden, and for a dangerous moment, her focus wavered.
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 232. The Target
Three Days LaterDaphne stood at the National Gallery.Hair pinned in soft curls, her green eyes masked behind a veil of dark lashes. Her floor-length black gown hugged her in all the right places, a masterpiece of elegance and misdirection. No one would look at her and think killer.But the blade hidden in her thigh holster didn’t care what they thought.She moved through the crowd, champagne flute in hand, like she belonged. Every sense was alert. Her target, Viktor Petrov, hadn’t arrived yet. She had time to prepare. Time to breathe.She had mapped the exits. Clocked the guards. Noted the cameras disguised as ornamental fixtures. All the little details that would save her life if things went sideways and they always did.Daphne sipped her champagne, lips barely brushing the rim. Her eyes scanned the crowd from beneath her lashes, searching for threats, patterns, opportunities.Then a ripple moved through the room. A shift in tone.He was here.Viktor Petrov strode in flanked by two
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 231. Next Job
Maxwell Costello was not used to sneaking around. He preferred blunt force, clear plans, and fewer moral gray areas.But when your brother decided to fall in love with the woman who tried to gut him like a fish, you didn’t get to take the moral high ground.Especially not when your brother was right.Max had seen the hesitation in Landon’s eyes. The certainty. This wasn’t a man hallucinating on morphine. This was a man who had seen something most people missed. And Landon wasn't the kind of man who'd chase after any girl.Max wasn’t about to let that someone finish what Daphne had started.So he did what he always did when things got messy, he called in a favor.The private elevator took him down to a dim sub-basement of a tech firm in Geneva masquerading as a cybersecurity company. At the center of the far wall, in a glass-walled office that looked more like the command center of a Bond villain, sat a woman with jet-black hair, noise-canceling headphones, and three monitors glowing i
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 230. Not Dead
The steady beep of medical equipment pulled Landon back to consciousness.His eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and his mouth was desert-dry. The antiseptic smell hit him first, followed by the dull throb of pain radiating from his abdomen.Hospital. He was in a hospital.He was not dead.Landon forced his eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lighting. White ceiling. Beige walls. His vision blurred, then gradually sharpened as he took in his surroundings.“Welcome back to the land of the living, Bro.”Landon turned his head slightly to see his brother, Maxwell, standing by the bed, grinning widely.“Where am I?” Landon rasped, throat raw from disuse.“St. Pierre Medical Center in Geneva. You’ve been out for three days now.”Three days. Landon’s mind raced, piecing together fragmented memories. Daphne. The glass shard. Blood pooling beneath him on his bedroom floor.“How…?” The word came out as little more than a whisper.“Your security team found you approximately thirty min
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 229. Perfect Creation
Daphne’s fingers trembled slightly as she typed the message: “Target eliminated. Job complete.”She paused in the hallway of Landon’s building, her back pressed against the wall as she waited for the response.She had killed before. Many times, but never had it felt like this.Like loss.Three dots appeared on the screen. Then: “Confirmation required.”Of course. They never just took her word for it. She scrolled through her phone, selecting the photo she’d taken of Landon’s body sprawled on his bedroom floor, blood pooling beneath him, eyes closed. She attached it to the message and hit send.The response came almost immediately: “Satisfactory. Return for debriefing.Daphne pocketed her phone and continued toward the service elevator. The building’s security cameras would show a maintenance worker leaving, not a woman in a borrowed t-shirt with blood on her hands.As the elevator descended, she stared at her reflection in the polished metal doors. Her face betrayed nothing. No remors
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