All Chapters of The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride: Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

Maxwell Costello was not used to sneaking around. He preferred blunt force, clear plans, and fewer moral gray areas.But when your brother decided to fall in love with the woman who tried to gut him like a fish, you didn’t get to take the moral high ground.Especially not when your brother was right.Max had seen the hesitation in Landon’s eyes. The certainty. This wasn’t a man hallucinating on morphine. This was a man who had seen something most people missed. And Landon wasn't the kind of man who'd chase after any girl.Max wasn’t about to let that someone finish what Daphne had started.So he did what he always did when things got messy, he called in a favor.The private elevator took him down to a dim sub-basement of a tech firm in Geneva masquerading as a cybersecurity company. At the center of the far wall, in a glass-walled office that looked more like the command center of a Bond villain, sat a woman with jet-black hair, noise-canceling headphones, and three monitors glowing i

Petrov dismissed his guards with a flick of his wrist. They retreated to the stairwell entrance, far enough to give privacy but close enough to respond if needed.“So,” he said, turning to face her, “now we are alone with the art. What shall we do?”Daphne moved closer, her silk dress whispering against the marble floor. “I’ve always believed art should be… experienced.” She trailed her fingers along his lapel. “Don’t you agree?”His eyes darkened with desire, exactly as she’d planned. Men like Petrov were predictable—power made them believe they were invincible, that they could take whatever they wanted. It made them careless.“I do,” he murmured, one thick hand settling on her waist. “And you are quite the masterpiece.”She smiled, letting him pull her closer. His cologne was expensive but overpowering, nothing like the subtle cedar and citrus that had clung to Landon’s skin.Landon.The thought of him flashed through her mind unbidden, and for a dangerous moment, her focus wavered.

Father stared at Daphne like a predator, his cold eyes assessing her from head to toe. The debriefing had gone well—her report on Petrov’s elimination was clinical and thorough, exactly as he’d trained her to be.“The client was very pleased with the Prague job,” Father said, his voice unnervingly gentle. “Very clean. Very efficient.”Daphne remained perfectly still, her face a careful mask of neutrality. “Thank you, Father.”He stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of his cologne. His fingers reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.“I think you’ve earned a little vacation for doing such a good job,” he said, his lips curving into what might have been a smile on anyone else’s face. On his, it looked calculated. “Perhaps a week in Santorini? The villa there is… quiet this time of year.”Daphne blinked, unable to hide her surprise. Father rarely offered rewards. Only punishments for failure.“I—thank you,” she managed, her mind

Daphne adjusted the strap of her duffel bag and pulled her baseball cap lower over her eyes as she walked into the airport.In a few hours, her vacation will begin.But something still felt wrong. Or maybe she was being paranoid. It wasn't like she never got rewarded by Father before. It was rare, but it did happen. She kept walking, her boots silent against the polished floor. But her spine tensed.She felt it...the prickling sensation between her shoulder blades. Like a thread being tugged at the back of her neck.She slowed, just slightly, and glanced at her reflection in the glass of a perfume shop window.Nothing out of place.A couple dragging wheeled suitcases. A group of young women taking selfies. A security guard sipping coffee by the doors.No eyes on her. No obvious threat.And yet... she knew the feeling of being watched. She'd felt it in training, when Father's men tested her alertness, when she failed to detect them and paid the price.Her fingers curled slightly.She

Nico rolled up Daphne’s sleeve with care, almost mockingly gentle as if administering medicine rather than preparing to torture her.Father stepped back, observing the needle poised above Daphne’s skin. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it, his expression hardening into something even colder.“Looks like I can’t stay and join in the fun,” he announced, tucking the phone away. His gaze swept over Daphne, clinical and detached. “I’ve wasted enough time on this disappointment. Nico, Diego—she’s yours to play with. Do as you wish. Just make sure there’s enough left to serve as a reminder to the others.”He adjusted his cufflinks, not even looking at her now. “When you’re finished, dispose of what remains. I don’t care how.”The door clanged shut behind him, the sound echoing through the warehouse like a death knell.Diego’s face split into a grin as he stepped closer. “Finally. Been waiting for this opportunity for years.”“Don’t damage her face too much,” Nico said, rolling the