All Chapters of A Pet for the Mafia Dons: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

The silence in the waiting room outside Serena’s private room was heavy, pregnant with pain, with hope and somewhere below, the uncertainty of death which lingered in the room. The Delnos had had Louis’ fiancée shifted into a room which had all the extras he wished for her. Huge, spacious and clean.Like a suite in a luxury hotel.The hospital room was dimly lit, bathed in the low hum of machines and the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. In the middle of the sterile white room lay Serena Kingston—still, pale, and heartbreakingly fragile. Tubes ran from her nose and arms, machines breathing for her, measuring the faint flickers of life still pulsing beneath her skin. Her flame coloured hair was spread across the pillow like a shadow, her face too tranquil, if such a thing was possible, as if asleep in a place far from here.Louis Delano sat at her bedside, elbows on his knees, fingers laced so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His eyes, ringed with sleepless nights, di

Bianca walked into the Casino.She had chosen to go modern minimalist and was wearing a dress that sent out very clear signals. A structured white dress with sharp lines, off-the-shoulder, cinched at the waist with a metallic belt. No sparkle, no noise—just clean geometry and flawless fabric. Paired with nude heels and a simple clutch, she radiated power through restraint.Bianca Cruz meant business.Heads turned, whispers rose, but no one confronted the young woman, who was accompanied by the burly, tattooed biker and a couple of his men, all sending out dangerous signals.Smiling to herself, Bianca marched into Liam O’Grady’s office and sank down on the leather armchair. She noticed the small photograph on the table and dimpled. The four of them, Bianca in the centre with baby Cian, flanked by her Masters.O’Grady, the reformed rake, had his heart in the right place, alright she thought as she called for his secretary to come in. Beaming up into the startled woman’s face, she purr

Lucien Delano was in a frenzy.Paddy had used his team and every resource he had at his fingertips to find where Jana Rudenko was holed up. And he had sent them the exact location. Lucien had never really fathomed how meticulously Paddy’s mind worked till now. But now he appreciated the extent of his adoptive son’s diligence. The boy was on a mission because it involved Proserpina. He worshipped the Mafia Don’s Woman, regarded her as his own mother and nothing could keep him away from her. He would often be seen, skulking in the kitchen, eating something Proserpina had prepared, just for him.Young Paddy had been scouring the Dark Web to source any leads. It meant trolling many unsightly sites, but the man had carried on, shutting his mind to the unpleasantness he encountered, using his sophisticated tools and his uncanny ability.He had stumbled across the information about Jana Rudenko’s key hideouts concerning a sale of children, which was about to happen. Even someone as detache

The hospital room was dimly lit, bathed in the low hum of machines and the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. In the middle of the sterile white room lay Serena Kingston—still, pale, and heartbreakingly fragile. Tubes ran from her nose and arms, machines breathing for her, measuring the faint flickers of life still pulsing beneath her skin. Her flame coloured hair was spread across the pillow like a shadow, her face too tranquil, if such a thing was possible, as if asleep in a place far from here.Louis Delano sat at her bedside, elbows on his knees, fingers laced so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His eyes, ringed with sleepless nights, didn’t leave her face. He searched for any twitch, any sign—however small—that she might wake. Every breath the ventilator drew in her stead sounded louder in the silence between them.To his family, who stayed beside the two of them all the time, Louis looked like a man unravelling slowly at the edges—handsome, but hollowed by anguis

he hospital room was still, quiet except for the soft hum of the machines and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Pale morning light filtered through the half-drawn blinds, laying stripes of warmth across the woman's motionless form.Serena’s eyelids fluttered once, then again, longer this time, as if something deep inside her was stirring. The faintest crease formed on her brow. Her lips parted slightly, dry and cracked, but trying to shape a breath, a word, a question she didn’t yet remember.Inside her, awareness moved like a tide returning. First came the sound—the sterile buzz of the hospital, the faint echo of footsteps down the corridor, the steady pulse of her own heartbeat in her ears. Then the weight of her body registered, like waking from a long and heavy dream. Her fingers twitched, a subtle, nearly invisible movement.She didn’t open her eyes yet, but the world was no longer completely dark. Shapes floated behind her eyelids, shadows of memory, fragments of voices