All Chapters of The Mafia Widow's Revenge : Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

ELENAI had no idea what was happening to me whenever I was around DeLuca. I’d been with men before Lorenzo, but with DeLuca… it was different. I couldn’t explain it. He unnerved me, and yet, he intrigued me.He was everything Lorenzo wasn’t.I’d been married to Lorenzo for four years, yet just days after his death, it felt like I’d been married to a stranger. Like I’d been living with a mask, never seeing the man underneath. But with DeLuca? With him, it felt like I’d known him all my life.Still, the question haunted me:Who ordered the hit on Lorenzo?And truthfully, the deeper I dug, the more I wondered if Lorenzo even deserved the loyalty I was giving him now. But I had made a promise—to myself, to the truth—and I hadn’t gone back on that. Not once.My hand drifted to my lips as the memory of last night’s kiss hit me. I could still feel his hands on me… the heat, the urgency. I’d pulled him closer, wanting more, needing more. And now, even as I sat quietly in the car, staring ahe

ELENA I’d seen enough to make me walk out.Sitting in that warehouse, watching the scene unfold, I had wished it were Dante screaming and begging for his life the way Louie had.But this war had evolved into a matter of survival. The fittest. The fiercest.Dante had made it clear—he’d go to any length to get to me.He’d used Sarah to send that message. Loud. Clear.It was time. Time to settle the score. Long overdue.The afternoon sun hit my face as I stepped out of the car.Sarah was already home, resting after her discharge.But I was here for someone else.Ava.I pushed the hospital door open slowly, careful not to startle anyone. The soft beeping of machines greeted me again, accompanied by that sterile scent of antiseptic and plastic. But today, the room felt different—brighter, lighter.The curtains were drawn open, letting sunlight flood in. There were fewer wires now. Fewer machines. Less of that quiet, heavy dread.Ava sat propped up in bed, her hair brushed and tied neatly

ELENA "Speechless" didn’t even begin to describe what I felt in that moment. Sitting across from DeLuca, I realized something unsettling—he wasn’t going to save me from his brother. Not this one.I had come here strictly for business. Ever since Sarah’s accident, I’d been sleeping with one eye open. Dante Moretti was still out there. After checking his apartment and finding it empty, DeLuca was my only remaining option. Our contract hadn’t expired, and like it or not, he was still part of the deal."I know it’s none of my business to meddle in your personal life,” the man beside me said casually, “but my brother needs a woman like you—not someone as shallow as his other girlfriend.”"Ex-girlfriend," DeLuca corrected, speaking for the first time since I walked in."We're not dating," I added coolly. “We’re just business partners.”I glanced over in time to see the smirk vanish from the young man's face. For a second, I felt oddly victorious."Such a shame," he muttered, eyeing me curi

ELENA I stroll around the orphanage, hands buried in the pockets of my jeans, slowly observing the children playing. Days like this—when everything feels too much, when the weight of secrets and enemies press too heavily on my chest—I find myself here. Watching them, hearing their laughter echo through the yard like music, something softens in me.The sight of these children makes me feel… grounded. Like maybe there’s still something pure left in this world.A little girl with two messy pigtails and grass-stained knees runs toward me, a stick in her hand like it’s a magic wand. She stops right in front of me, her eyes wide and full of curiosity.“Are you sad?” she asks bluntly, tilting her head.I blink. “A little,” I admit with a small smile.“Then you should play. It makes the sadness go away.”She grabs my hand before I can respond and pulls me down to the grass. I laugh—an actual laugh—as I kneel beside her. She draws a crooked sun in the dirt, then hands me the stick like it’s a

DELUCAHe was asleep.Pathetic.Even in chains, the bastard had the audacity to look peaceful. As if he hadn’t shattered lives, as if his hands weren’t stained with blood that screamed louder than sirens in my head.I walked slowly toward him, my shoes crunching against the dust and gravel on the floor. The warehouse smelled of old steel, oil, and sweat—perfect for what I had in mind.“Wake him,” I said.One of the guards didn’t hesitate. A sharp splash of cold water had Edward jerking upright, coughing and blinking rapidly.He looked around, disoriented. Then his eyes met mine.And I smiled.Not the kind of smile that offered warmth or forgiveness. No—this one was for me. Cold. Slow. Poisonous.“Edward Dickson,” I said, drawing out each syllable like it was the start of a hymn. “You took something from me.”His lips moved like he wanted to speak, but I didn’t give him the chance. I grabbed the steel chair across from him and sat, resting my elbows on my knees.“Do you remember her?”