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بيت / Mafia / The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen / Chapter 25: The Marathon

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Chapter 25: The Marathon

مؤلف: Cat Stories
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-03-02 04:42:23

I hide the burner phone inside the hollow cavity of the curtain rod. It’s the only place the maids don't dust.

I have just finished smoothing the drapes when the door opens.

There is no knock. There is no warning.

They walk in. All three of them.

Aureliano leads. He has discarded his jacket. His tie is undone, hanging loose around his neck like a noose.

Ciro is behind him, his sleeves rolled up, exposing the thick cords of muscle in his forearms.

Spadino brings up the rear. He kicks the door sh
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  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 200: The Insult

    Diplomacy has a shelf life. With men like Besnik Kulla, it expires the moment they walk out the door.We are back in the penthouse office. The remains of the dinner—the wine glasses, the linen napkins, the fork Spadino stabbed into the table—have been cleared away by a silent, terrified staff.The room is pristine. The city lights of Palermo sprawl below us, a grid of electricity and obedience.But the phone on the obsidian desk is ringing.It isn't the soft chime of the business line. It is the harsh, jarring buzz of the tactical line.Aureliano picks it up.He listens. His face doesn't change. The muscles in his jaw don't clench. He goes completely, terrifyingly still. It is the stillness of a viper coiling before the strike."Understood," Aureliano says. "Get him to the infirmary. Keep him breathing."He hangs up.He looks at me. His grey eyes are shards of ice."He didn't go home," Aureliano says. "He left the restaurant and went straight to the connector road.""And?" I ask, thou

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 199: The Diplomatic Table

    The restaurant is called L’Oro Nero. It sits on the forty-first floor of the Vitale Tower, directly below my office. It is neutral ground in name only; I own the tables, the wine, and the oxygen in the room.We have reserved the private dining room.The walls are glass, offering a panoramic view of the sunset bleeding over Palermo. The table is set with white linen, crystal, and silver.Besnik Kulla sits opposite me.He is wearing the same shiny suit from the photo, though up close, I can see the cheap stitching on the lapel. He is drinking a glass of Barolo like it is water, gulping it down without tasting the vintage.He has brought two guards. They stand by the door, trying to look menacing, but they are clearly uncomfortable. They know where they are. They are in the belly of the beast.My wolves are with me.Aureliano sits to my right. He is leaning back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the back of mine. His fingers brush my shoulder blade through the silk of my dress—a

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 198: The New Player

    The file on the obsidian desk is thin.It doesn't contain decades of history like the Greco dossier. It doesn't have the weight of blood feuds and intermarriages. It is light, new, and irritatingly sparse.I flip it open.A photograph is clipped to the top. It shows a man in his late twenties, standing outside a nightclub in Tirana. He is wearing a suit that is too shiny, a watch that is too big, and a smile that is too wide.Besnik Kulla.He looks like a boy playing dress-up in his father’s closet. But the eyes... the eyes are dead. Flat, shark-like eyes that have seen too much violence too young and enjoyed it too much."He's twenty-six," I say, reading the bio. "He took over the syndicate six months ago after his uncle 'accidentally' fell into a woodchipper.""Clumsy," Spadino says from the window ledge. He is sharpening his knife again, the shhh-shhh sound a rhythmic counterpoint to the hum of the air conditioning. "And messy. Woodchippers leave DNA everywhere.""He likes messy,"

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 197: The Reality Check

    The sound of a zipper closing on a leather duffel bag is the sound of a vacation dying.It is sharp. Final.I stand in the center of the master bedroom in the villa. The glass walls are still open, letting in the sound of the ocean and the scent of jasmine, but the magic has drained out of the air. The moonlight no longer looks romantic; it looks like tactical illumination.Ten minutes ago, we were discussing mortality and wine. Now, we are discussing logistics and kill zones.Aureliano is on the phone. He is pacing the terrace, his voice a low, rapid-fire stream of Sicilian dialect that cuts through the night like a serrated knife. He has buttoned his shirt. He has put his shoes back on. The relaxed lover who swam naked in the sea is gone, replaced by the King who just realized someone is trying to pick the lock on his treasury.Spadino is throwing clothes into bags. He isn't folding them. He is crumpling expensive linen and silk and shoving them in with a violence that speaks to his

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 196: The Deep Talk

    The wine is older than I am.It is a vintage Barolo, heavy and complex, tasting of earth and black cherries. I swirl it in the crystal glass, watching the dark liquid coat the sides.We are on the terrace of the villa. It is late—past midnight, perhaps closer to dawn. The air has cooled, losing the blistering heat of the day but retaining a softness that feels like silk against the skin.We are a tangle of limbs on the outdoor sectional.I am leaning back against Ciro’s chest. He is my chair, my wall. His arms are wrapped around my waist, his hands resting heavy and flat on my stomach, right over the scar from the C-section. He touches it constantly now, a subconscious check-in, as if assuring himself that I didn't break open.Spadino is lying with his head in my lap. I am running my fingers through his curls, scratching his scalp the way he likes. He is half-asleep, humming a tune that sounds suspiciously like a lullaby he sings to Maria.Aureliano sits on the coffee table in front o

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 195: Malta Nights (Part 2)

    The Mediterranean sun is a heavy, golden hand pressing me into the white leather cushion of the sun deck.It is noon. We are miles from the coast of Malta, drifting in a sea so blue it looks like spilled ink. There is no land in sight. There are no other boats. Just the infinite expanse of water and sky, and the sleek, sixty-foot yacht that cuts through it like a silver knife.I lie on my stomach, my bikini top untied to avoid tan lines. The heat soaks into my skin, baking the tension out of my muscles, turning my bones to liquid.For five years, I have lived in the shadows. I have lived in war rooms with blackout curtains and safe houses buried underground. I have forgotten what it feels like to just be in the light."You're burning," a deep voice rumbles above me.A shadow falls across my back, blocking the sun.Ciro.I don't open my eyes. "I'm baking," I correct lazily. "It feels good.""You're turning pink," he insists. "And if you burn, you peel. And if you peel, you complain."I

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 62: The Vigil

    The rhythm of the room is a metronome counting down the seconds of a life.Beep... beep... beep.It is the only sound in the world.I am sitting in a chair that has become an extension of my spine. I haven't moved in forty-eight hours. My muscles have atrophied, locking into a permanent hunch over

    last updateآخر تحديث : 2026-04-05

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 61: The Waiting Room

    The hospital smells of bleach and old pain.It is a specific, chemical scent that burns the inside of my nose, trying to mask the underlying odor of sickness and fear. But it can't mask the smell on me.I smell like copper. I smell like iron. I smell like Ciro.I am sitting on a plastic chair in th

    last updateآخر تحديث : 2026-04-05

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 59: Sanctuary Breached

    The silence of the crypt breaks.Not with a whisper. Not with a footstep.With a crash.The heavy wooden doors at the top of the stairs fly open, hitting the stone walls with a violence that shakes dust from the ceiling.Boom.The sound echoes in the small, enclosed space like a bomb going off. My

    last updateآخر تحديث : 2026-04-04

  • The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen   Chapter 10: The Thirty-Day Queen

    It is two in the morning.The house is sleeping. The monsters are in their caves.But the light under the library door is still on.I stand in the hallway. I am wearing my oversized t-shirt, my bare feet cold on the marble. I am shivering, but not from the temperature.I am shivering because I am a

    last updateآخر تحديث : 2026-03-18
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