บททั้งหมดของ A BRIDE FOR THE MAFIA LORD: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Her gasp melted into my mouth as I kissed her hard, devouring her like I couldn’t get enough. My hands slid down her body, gripping her thighs and pulling her closer. She arched into me, her nails dragging down my back as a low growl rumbled in my chest. “Vee,” she whispered, her voice breathless and needy, as I trailed my lips down her neck. I nipped at her skin, leaving marks that claimed her as mine. Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging lightly as she gasped again, her body shivering beneath me. “You want to tease me?” I murmured, my voice rough as my hand slid between her legs. “Now you’re going to take everything I give you.” Her dress was already bunched around her waist, and I yanked it over her head, leaving her bare except for the thin lace of her panties. My fingers hooked around the fabric, and in one sharp tug, it was gone. She let out a soft cry, her hips bucking toward me as I pressed my fingers against her heat. She was already soaked, her body trembling as I t

Vincenzo Dante Volkov: The warm glow of the setting sun painted my office in shades of gold and orange, but I barely noticed it. My focus was on the reports in front of me—progress updates on the empire I had worked so hard to build.The door opened suddenly, and Christopher walked in. He didn’t knock, didn’t ask for permission, which meant only one thing: something important. He dropped a folder on my desk, his face pale but tight with anger.“You need to see this,” he said, his voice clipped.I glanced at him, then at the folder. Slowly, I leaned forward, flipping it open.The first few pages caught my attention immediately—photos of me. Taken from a distance, entering and leaving meetings, driving through familiar streets. Maps followed, my regular routes marked in thick red lines.“They’ve been following me,” I said flatly, my voice calm even though my chest tightened.Christopher nodded. “For months. But it gets worse.”He reached over, pulling out a few more papers. These were

Victoria Bella Volkov;“There’s no such thing!” I snapped into the phone, pacing the room. My words were directed at someone I trusted—someone outside the suffocating circle of Vincenzo and my adoptive parents. Not that the latter ever truly felt like family to begin with.“Look, I know I came from somewhere. I have roots,” I insisted, my voice trembling with frustration. “Check the hospital records. Dig deeper. Just…please, do something.”A heavy silence hung between us before they finally responded.“Alright, Bella. I’ll look into it, but I can’t promise anything,” they said cautiously. Then, as if an afterthought, their tone shifted. “Oh, and… I came across something. Something about your family. It might interest you.”My heart skipped. Something stirred. Hope? Or dread?The voice on the other end hesitated, as if weighing whether or not to tell me. “Bella, there was a report… an incident from years ago. A car crash. It matched the date and location near where you were found. I t

Victoria Bella Volkov:I walked out of the house, tears streaming down my face. My chest felt heavy, the pain almost too much to bear.The Washington family would pay for the emptiness they had left in my heart. Every last one of them.After meeting with Charles Arlington—who’s basically my grandfather—we decided to run a DNA test. Deep down, I already knew the truth, but I needed the proof.Driving down the highway, I noticed a car trailing me. It had been there for a while.I tried to shake it off, brushing away my unease, and pressed harder on the gas.I turned on some music and started humming along, trying to calm myself.But as I kept driving down the highway, I noticed something—it wasn’t just one car anymore. When I finally left the highway, the first car sped up, trying to catch me. That’s when I knew something was wrong.My heart raced as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. I quickly fastened my seatbelt, my mind running through options.The road to the house was quie

Vincenzo Dante Volkov; The moment I stepped out of the room, the smell of scrambled eggs hit me. With the chef on leave, I couldn’t help but wonder who was cooking.I walked into the kitchen and froze when I saw her—my little mouse, making breakfast. Honestly, I had thought she left that night. I wasn’t expecting to see her here at all. Maybe... she was making breakfast for two?She was wearing my shirt, and from the back, she looked small, almost fragile, and somehow, even more adorable. It made my chest tighten, but I pushed the feeling down."Good morning," I greeted, sitting down at the table, watching her.She didn’t even glance at me, not a single acknowledgment. I sighed, frustration building inside me. I got up and walked over, trying to close the distance between us. "I'm sorry, but honestly, my family had nothing to do with your parents' deaths. I swear to you, I’m telling the truth.""I don’t want to talk about last night, Vincenzo!" she snapped, her voice cold, still refu