All Chapters of The Mafia's Substitute Bride: Chapter 361 - Chapter 370

Siena stopped abruptly and turned back to him.The words hit harder than she expected. After everything—after so many heartbreaks, the wounds she had stitched together alone—some foolish part of her still couldn't accept him being so cruel to her. Hearing it spoken aloud crushed that last illusion.Before she could respond, the sound of engines cut through the air.More cars.Cristiano’s jaw tightened. He glanced over his shoulder, calculating the distance, the speed—how little time they had left. His hand curled into a fist as he turned back to her.“No,” he barked. “You don’t get to run.”Siena stiffened.“There’s one minute left,” he continued sharply. “One minute before you’re caught in my trap again—or you board that helicopter.”Her breath caught. Anger flared, hot and sharp.Why was he even here? Hadn’t he chosen another woman? Wasn’t he supposed to be getting married—building a life that didn’t include her?The roar of the approaching cars grew louder.Cristiano took a step clo

When Siena returned to Moscow and stepped into the Baranov house, she wasn’t welcomed like a daughter who had finally come home.There were no tears. No open arms.Only quiet stares.Her mother, Natalya, stood a few feet away, studying Siena as if she were a stranger brought in for inspection rather than the child she had lost. Beside her were Siena’s younger sister and brother—curious, cautious, unsure how to feel about the woman who shared their blood but not their life.“You have your father’s eyes,” Natalya said finally, her voice calm but distant. “And… my face.”It wasn’t said with warmth. It was an observation. A fact.There was no denying it. Siena looked like them.Still, Nikolai Baranov—the Pakhan—ordered a DNA test. When the results came back as a match, he barely reacted. He only nodded once, as if confirming a business deal rather than reclaiming a daughter.“That proves blood,” he said. “Not loyalty.”Because Siena had lived among Italians, among enemies, suspicion follow

He stood there like death given form—devastatingly beautiful, his face carved with fury. Every line of his body was forged from steel, perfectly sculpted, radiating quiet, lethal danger. The muscles in his powerful arms bulged as his grip tightened around the guns in both hands, veins standing out beneath his skin.Siena couldn’t look away.He was Hades walking among plain, ordinary men—untouchable, merciless, inevitable.Then Viktor lifted his gun toward Cristiano Vitelli.Before his finger could even graze the trigger, a shot exploded from the weapon in Cristiano’s right hand. The bullet tore through Viktor’s palm, bone shattering as the gun flew from his grasp. A second shot followed instantly—from the gun in Cristiano’s left hand—ripping into his leg.Viktor screamed.His body crumpled to the floor in a broken heap, pain strangling the sound from his throat as blood spread beneath him.Cristiano stood alone, and no one was his match.With a gun in each hand, he moved like hell unl

“So you’re really going to marry that bastard,” Cristiano said hoarsely, fury lacing every word, “while you’re pregnant with my child?”Siena frowned, pain flashing across her face as she pushed herself off the bed. His eyes followed her every step, unblinking, as if she might vanish if he looked away for even a second. She stopped right in front of him.And then her hand rose, colliding with his cheek. The sound of the slap cracked through the room.“You’re always so selfish,” she whisper-yelled, her body shaking with anger and hurt. “You only ever think about yourself.”She glared at him, lips trembling, the light in her eyes dimming as she added in a low, broken tone, “And how do you even know it’s your child?”Cristiano closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as if fighting for control—but in the next heartbeat, he moved. Suddenly, he was too close. One hand locked around her waist while the other gripped the back of her neck, dragging her closer as he surged forward and crushed his l

His eyes narrowed, searching hers.“Are you kidding me, doll?!” His voice was deceptively calm, almost soft, but every word carried a storm. “You don’t know? Then why the hell did you send that text? You made me want to burn the whole world just for letting you go… cross seven oceans… face a thousand hells… just to bring you back to me.”“I still have a week until my next period, so I can’t be sure if I’m really pregnant. But I texted you,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper, hesitating. “…because I wanted to see whether you’d come for me or not. ”He kissed her forehead, smiling softly. His doll was smarter than he thought of her—she knew exactly how to use his weakness.She was his weakness.“But if I hadn’t texted you… would you have really given up on me?” she asked, her lips pouting, a soft note of complaint in her voice.Cristiano sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t know, doll… but I’m glad you played that little trick, and I came for you.”“So… it means…