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FIFTY
Data de publicação:
2026-09-18 14:01:10AREŚ
Something inside me ruptures, dark and slow and all-consuming.
I force myself to turn away from the orchard before I walk over there and break my nephew’s jaw.
The image is still there, stamped behind my eyes, like a brand I can never get rid of. Jordyn, kissing Matteo like he’s the one thing she’s ever craved.
I never imagined it would happen so quickly. I assumed I would have had time to gather my thoughts and prepare myself b
Último capítulo
Ruined by The Mafia Heir FIFTY-FOUR
JORDYNAreś is sitting in one of the chairs when I enter the room, a woman, who I assume is a doctor, already working on his shoulder. He's topless and in only a pair of black jeans. The black vest he was wearing sits rumpled on the floor, and the sight of it makes my stomach turn.Blood covers the skin around the angry tear in his shoulder and streaks all the way down his arm, some of it dried, some still fresh.There are bruises across his ribs, another darkening along his cheekbone, and a cut near his temple that I hadn’t noticed from the window. His knuckles are bruised and split, dried blood covering each one.
Ruined by The Mafia Heir FIFTY-THREE
JORDYNThe deep, resonant hum of a motorcycle pulls me from sleep. It's a sound I know all too well by now. Low, profound, and unsettlingly familiar. I sit up abruptly, the blanket slipping from my shoulders as I peer into the inky darkness. The manor is cloaked in silence, but that sound, that unmistakable, throaty growl of the Ducati, vibrates through the floor like a distant, ominous warning.Areś.I get up, moving quietly across the room, my bare feet feather-light against the cold floor as I approach the window. Moonlight spills across the yard, casting ghostly silver bands over the gravel drive, illuminating the night with an
Ruined by The Mafia Heir FIFTY-TWO
AREŚThe adrenaline is still tearing through me, nowhere left to go. My right shoulder burns where the bullet caught me, carving a bloody path through flesh before carrying on into the night.It’s not deep. Nothing vital. Nothing Doctor Ricci won’t be able to deal with once I get back to the manor. I’ve had worse. Much fucking worse.But now that the fight is over and there’s nobody left to hit, I can feel every goddamn inch of it.And yeah, it fucking hurts.I swing my leg over the Ducati and fire it up. The engine roars beneath me as I twist the throttle and tear away from the gravel, heading for the winding road back to the estate.Cold air batters my face, cutting through the sweat still damp on my skin. Blood seeps steadily from my shoulder, soaking through my shirt beneath my leather jacket, but I barely give it a thought. My helmet is still strapped to the back of the bike.I leave it there.I need the co
Ruined by The Mafia Heir FIFTY-ONE
AREŚI'm feeling an unsettling restlessness, an untamed energy surging through me like a tempest, ready to tear apart anyone who dares look at me the wrong way.My body refuses to be still, constant motion driven by vivid images of Jordyn and Matteo, pushing me to pace relentlessly across my living room like a caged animal.I've never experienced anything quite like this before. This urgent need to expel the chaos churning within me.I snatch my phone off the glass table and dial Dante, my voice clipped and commanding. "Vieni qui." Come here. Dante appears a minute later, his presence a silent acknowledgment of my turmoil. He doesn't question why I've summoned him; he doesn't need to. He stands there, watching me light another cigarette, my knuckles bruised, my eyes shadowed with intensity. It's all the explanation he requires."I need blood," I say, my voice steely and resolute.With a single nod, Dante retrieves
Ruined by The Mafia Heir FIFTY
AREŚSomething inside me ruptures, dark and slow and all-consuming.I force myself to turn away from the orchard before I walk over there and break my nephew’s jaw.The image is still there, stamped behind my eyes, like a brand I can never get rid of. Jordyn, kissing Matteo like he’s the one thing she’s ever craved.I never imagined it would happen so quickly. I assumed I would have had time to gather my thoughts and prepare myself because I’m not an idiot. I predicted this. Yet, her subtle threat about making me swallow my own words...she's certainly delivered on it, because now I'm grappling with the bitter taste of each and every one, suffocating on the reality of my own choices, even if, as much as I hate it, was the right one.I told her to go and find someone her own age, and she did just that.I keep moving through the crook of the garden, past rows of wrought-iron tables strewn with half-empty gl
Ruined by The Mafia Heir FORTY-NINE
AREŚOffering Jordyn a job was a fucking mistake.I knew it the second the words left my mouth.And I’m still trying to work out what possessed me to do it.More importantly, I still haven’t decided where the hell to put her.Oscura is out. Too many people come through those doors who have no business knowing her name, let alone seeing her every fucking day. One of the hotels would be safer, but they’re public, busy, impossible to control. The import office is secure, but she’d hate sitting behind a desk all day, and I already know Jordyn well enough to know boredom would have her wandering into places she has no business being before lunchtime.Events could work. She has hospitality experience. She’s good with people. It would give her the independence she keeps insisting I’m
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