All Chapters of The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

Black Jack’s Bar and Pub, 11:57 PM.The bar was moody and dim, tucked behind a cigar shop in the warehouse district.Landon slipped in through the back entrance, every nerve alert. He’d left his car blocks away and looped twice to be sure he wasn’t being followed. This was an everyday occurrence for him. He wore a charcoal jacket over a black shirt.He scanned the room with practiced precision. Low lighting. Two exits. A camera above the bar, but probably fake. A bouncer near the front, disinterested. A waitress with too much eyeliner. And then—Her.His mystery woman sat at the bar, her posture relaxed but alert. She wore a black dress, the neckline of her dress plunging low enough to draw the eye but high enough to make you question if she’d kill you for staring too long. Her hair was pinned up loosely, a few strands trailing down her neck like an invitation.Or a warning.Landon exhaled through his nose, steadying himself.This was too easy, finding her here at the bar he frequents

“I didn’t expect you quite this soon,” Landon continued, his voice casual as if they were discussing dinner plans rather than attempted murder. “Though I have to admit, I’m flattered by your enthusiasm.”“You knew I was coming,” she said, not a question.“I counted on it.” The pressure of the gun barrel increased slightly. “Drop your weapon.”Daphne hesitated, mind racing through scenarios. She could try to disarm him—a quick pivot, a strike to his wrist—but at this range, he’d have time to pull the trigger before she completed the move.“Now,” he said, voice hard and commanding, leaving her little room to maneuver and even less to think.She let the pistol clatter loudly to the tile, the noise echoing in the steamy room and reminding her of how close she had come to finishing the job. “Good girl,” Landon murmured. In one swift motion, he spun her around, pressing her back against the cool shower wall, trapping her with his body.She could feel the cold seeping through her shirt and t

His words hit Daphne like a physical blow. She stood there dripping wet, naked from the waist down, suddenly aware of how exposed she truly was. And not just physically.“And what makes you think I won’t still complete my mission?” she asked.He threw a towel at her, which she caught easily.“Because you’ve had multiple chances,” Landon said, leaning against the counter with infuriating confidence. “And each time, something stops you.”Daphne grinned despite the situation. Forty-six hours left on her deadline, and instead of completing her assignment, she had just had mind-blowing sex with her target. Father would consider this the ultimate betrayal.“So what do you plan on doing now?” she asked, voice carefully neutral as she assessed her options. The bathroom had one exit, which Landon was partially blocking.Her gun was still on the floor, his somewhere near the drain. She could make a move for either, but the calculus had changed. The dynamic between them had shifted, and she wasn

Landon felt his pulse quicken, and not just from the exertion of the fight.There was something intoxicating about watching Daphne like this. All lethal grace and deadly intent. Her amber eyes burned with determination, her body coiled tight like a spring ready to release. His t-shirt clung to her curves, now stained with his blood, and somehow that made her even more alluring.She was actively trying to kill him now and all he could think about was how magnificent she looked doing it.He had to have her. He had to make her his little pet.“Come on,” he goaded, circling her with measured steps. “You can do better than that.”She lunged again, the glass shard slicing through the air where his throat had been a second earlier. He caught her momentum, using it to spin her against the wall, pinning her there with his body. Her back pressed against his chest, his arm across her throat, just enough pressure to make her still.“You fight beautifully,” he murmured against her ear, inhaling her

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