Todos os capítulos de The Mafia Princess : Capítulo 211 - Capítulo 219

The glow of the laptop screen flickered softly in the dark, illuminating the deep furrow between my brows. My fingers paused midair over the keyboard as my eyes tracked the pings on the map."Multiple locations...?" I murmured under my breath, dragging the cursor slowly across the highlighted dots, "No, no, no..." My voice cracked, my chest tightening with every passing second.This wasn’t right.Giada never allowed her GPS to multi-ping unless she thought someone was following her. And she would always text me if something was off. My throat dried instantly. My body stiffened, my palms beginning to sweat. A cold shiver danced down my spine, and I leaned back, blinking rapidly as if the action would somehow reconfigure the chaos in front of me.“Damn it, Giada. What happened?” My voice trembled.I forced my focus and searched the network for possible third-party intrusion. Nothing. No signs of external tracking.Which meant...She triggered this herself.And that only confirmed

Sofia’s POVThe soft rumble of the vehicle beneath me was the only thing I could feel until a voice pierced through the weight in my mind."Your Highness," Agent 47 called gently from the front seat, “We’re close.”My eyes blinked open and I sat up, disoriented for a moment. I had fallen asleep? Damn it.“How long have I been out?” I asked, voice hoarse as I straightened, already reaching for my phone.“Thirty-five minutes. Madam Gloria wants to speak with you,” he added, gaze still fixed ahead like a machine programmed for war.I checked my phone. Two missed calls from Gloria. Just as I was processing that, the screen lit up again with her name.I swiped to answer before the first ring could complete.“Glory, did you find anything?” I asked breathlessly.Her voice came steady but urgent, “Sofia, listen to me. I used Giada’s GPS history to triangulate where her movements deviated. She did arrive at the mall and even stayed about thirty minutes, but after that... she didn’t leave in

Sofia’s POVMy fingers trembled, but not from the cold of the warehouse.The muzzle of my gun stayed locked on Rosita’s skull, my finger curled firm around the trigger, but my vision… my vision was blurring.It wasn’t just fear.Tears were breaking free from my lashes, silent and hot. I couldn’t stop them anymore.They traced my cheeks like ink, dragging everything I’d worked so hard for down with them. Years of planning, of sacrifice, of becoming someone else… shattered in one night like cheap porcelain dropped on the floor.She knew.She fvcking knew everything.I thought I’d hidden well. I thought I was off her radar. Aurora DE Santa was supposed to be perfect. Impeccable. Untouchable. But the Interagent… she never took her eyes off me. Not once. She just waited....waited until the cyber weapon was completed. And then she struck.“Leave my children out of this,” I choked, my voice hoarse as if scraped raw from the inside, “This is between you and me”Rosita tilted her head, h

Clancy's POVI didn’t realize I was crying.Not until the burning in my eyes blurred the faces in front of me, and something warm and wet touched the curve of my cheek.“You’re a bad man… Why did you leave us?”Her voice was soft and accusing. Shaking something in me I never wanted disturbed.Those words echoed through every hollow space inside me and this caused my breath to falter. They were mine.My daughters. My children.Sofia… she must have left North America pregnant.How could I forget the number of times that we had unprotected sex because we got caught in the moment. It explained everything. Their age. Their eyes. The shape of their lips when they frowned like her. The way one of them arched her brow just like I used to do in mirrors as a teenager. God, even their energy. Where the hell else could that energy come from but the two of us?The guilt swept in through me like a flood; violent and overwhelming, no warning. My knees hit the floor; my palms spread on the

Clancy POVI stepped out of the hotel with my very own two little hurricanes in human form. Francesca and Marcela following close, still bickering like sworn enemies who shared a womb.Their voices were high and fell like a rollercoaster of complaints, but I didn’t say a word. I didn’t know what to.Outside, a row of black-suited agents lined both sides of the driveway like statues. Dark shades, stoic faces.They stood at ease, but I knew they had sidearms tucked neatly beneath those tailored jackets. They were weapons in motion yet none dared draw a gun. Not when I had made it clear, no visible weapons when my daughters are present.Anyone who did otherwise was courting death, and delivering death was the one business I never failed in.Matteo, now temporarily reassigned as my driver, jogged ahead and opened the door to the waiting limousine. I helped the girls inside, Francesca springing in like a wild cat while Marcela stepped in with a pensive frown inked deep across her fo