Todos os capítulos de Kidnapped by The Billionaire The Mafia Boss's Captive: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

Weeks after returning to Russia, spring arrived only to vanish in a heartbeat. I managed to slip outside a couple of times with Aleksander. By late April, fragile green shoots, new grass, and wildflowers broke through the soil, accompanied by birdsong—a melody that mocked the daily gunfire. Whether lying in bed or pacing the floor, I heard shots echo through the estate. Was someone else wounded? Did someone die? Here in Russia, I remained a captive in that room, permitted outside only on his terms. Even that one night he introduced me to another criminal at a dinner held in a sprawling estate, sheer terror gripped me. Amidst an army of armed men and two ambitious predators trading polite small talk, a shootout could erupt at any second. When we finally returned home, reality crashed back down: I was nothing more than a prisoner, and it broke my heart.Not being able to see the sun on my own terms, only when he allowed it, filled me with utter helplessness.Behind locked doors, the hou

Laying the truth out for Dominic was a delicate dance of facts and fabricated cover stories. He learned that Elena—his brother's estranged mother—was my father's partner, the woman who raised me and mothered Grace, completely unaware she was tied to the head of the Russian mafia. Everything was a tangled web of broken connections. The narrative we fed him was simple: we'd crossed paths in New York, started dating shortly after, and eventually tied the knot.A complete fabrication.Aleksander warned him to keep his mouth shut if he valued his life and freedom, threatening to fold him into his ruthless inner circle if he talked.Dominic was forbidden from telling Grace the dark reality of our world, though he was free to acknowledge our legal marital ties—making him and Grace technically concuñados.He finally left, rattled not just by Aleksander's threats, but by how deeply messy my situation turned out to be.I knew Aleksander wouldn't let the hit on Volkov slide. A deep, violent bloo

Without a word, he stepped forward, reached into the stroller, and scooped Matthew up into his arms. My heart stopped. Seeing him hold our son was a nightmare I had replayed a thousand times."You know," Aleksander said quietly, his voice dangerously smooth, "I had a private detective tracking your shadow ever since you vanished. You took two pieces of my life with you when you ran. Why hide him from me? You really thought you could make a fool out of me forever?""I ran because I was terrified of you, Konstantinov," I choked out through bitter tears. "Because you threatened me, because I refused to let you destroy another innocent life. Matthew is my son—give him back to me, please..."He shook his head firmly, cradling the baby against his chest with surprising care.He has rights. This boy is my blood too, Luna," he argued, standing tall. "I am his father, and you can't erase that.""Not by choice! You only want him to punish me. Give me my baby back!" I sobbed, stepping toward him

Waking up meant returning to a symphony of aches. My spine felt broken, every square inch of my skin bruised and lacerated. I was still a captive. Pain lanced through my limbs as I tried to stretch, shifting weakly across the quilt. I had never imagined sinking this low, drowning in a suffocating terror that sucked the air straight from my lungs. I searched frantically for peace, but it slipped through my fingers like smoke.No one should ever have to endure this. It felt like invisible hands wrapping around your throat, squeezing until you dissolved into nothingness. When your husband is a high-ranking mob boss, the destination is always a dark unknown. Breathing became a chore, an alien act. I lost track of time. Hours blurred into a stagnant haze. Maybe today isn't my day to survive, a dark voice whispered, though I fought stubbornly to cling to hope. Every storm runs out of rain, right?God, this is worse than any horror movie.I wept openly, tears burning like acid. Only someone

I stared at him, taking in how impeccably his suit fit. I am completely in love with the little boy who turns my days into the best in the world, and he knows it. He knows I love him with every ounce of my heart and soul. Here he is, pressed against my chest. He is the very reason my heart beats—ever since I first looked into those eyes and saw my own reflection. Nothing can ever erase how deeply I love him, and I expressed it to him in the best way possible. His father does, too."Look at you, so handsome, little guy," I murmured, kissing the tip of his nose. He tried to do the same to me, and I had to lean down so he could reach. He is only three years old, after all."Thank you, Mama.""I love you, sweet boy."He nodded and told me he loved me, too—the most precious reciprocation I could ever receive. I melted just hearing him say he loved me. Nothing is more sincere than that expression, those words reaching straight into my heart, leaving a silly smile plastered across my lips. I