บททั้งหมดของ Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Ruin: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ “I need you to trust me too, Alessandro. Who is Sofia?” I whispered. His body tensed slightly under mine, the shift was so subtle but I noticed it. I could feel him about to pull back—not physically, but in that guarded way he always does. His eyes flicked to the side, avoiding mine. Oh no, not this time. I grabbed his face gently forcing him to look at me. “Tell me about the burns on your chest,” I pressed, “When did it start? How did it start? Who is she?” I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me. The burns. Every time I thought about them, it sent a wave of disgust crashing over me. And no one had protected him. No one had stopped it. Not even him. He took my hand off his face, “I want you to promise me something first,” he said, “If I tell you, you won’t tell anyone. You won’t act on it. And you sure as fuck won’t go after her for revenge or any of that. Whatever I tell you stays between us. Do you understand me, Freckles?” My stomach twisted at hi

Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I watched Viviane pace the room, arms folded across her chest, the slight furrow in her brow that said she was already two steps ahead, calculating every angle. Smart. Prepared. Just what I needed at my side. I have never admitted it out loud, but her mind was something else entirely. It drew me in more than anything else. It wasn’t just the way she picked up on everything I said, it was how she pieced things together, how she challenged me without even trying. Every conversation with her felt like a match I didn’t mind losing. Her intelligence was a turn-on. I was proud of her in a way I didn’t even know I could feel, like having her by my side made me sharper, better, more alive. She paused by the window, the sunlight hitting directly into her hazel eyes and setting them aglow, turning them a shade lighter, like molten gold melting into green. "Our decoys are in place, right?" she asked, her voice holding an edge of excitement. I leaned back, f

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I have always been cold. The day I found my mother swinging from the ceiling something inside me just... broke, cutting away all the things that made me human. My mom and I weren’t close. Not in the way people mean when they talk about family. She didn’t hold me when I was scared, didn’t kiss my scrapes when I fell, didn’t braid my hair or tell me I was beautiful. She spent most of her time trying to pretend I didn’t exist, like if she ignored me long enough, I’d just disappear. It took me years to figure out why. By the time I pieced it together, she was gone, and I was standing in the ruins of her life, wondering why it didn’t hurt more. This kind of coldness doesn’t just happen. It’s made. It’s earned. And I earned every jagged edge. But then Alessandro Costello came crashing into my life, all suits and beautiful blue eyes, a smile that would make any woman's panties fall to the ground and those walls didn’t stand a chance. I hate him for it. God, I hate

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ They say when you love someone, every little thing about them starts to matter in ways you never expected. I didn’t believe that until now. Because if you’d told me six months ago that I’d be standing here in the middle of my shattered life, worrying about a cat that doesn’t even belong to me, I’d have laughed in your face. But here I was. Magnus's silvery fur brushed against my fingers as his bright amber eyes darted around. He probably didn't like being outside, not without Alessandro. I could feel his small body tense as I adjusted my grip on him, but his purr vibrated against my chest. He trusted me. Too bad I didn’t trust myself anymore. I approached the nondescript building, its bland gray exterior concealed by the vast, featureless horizon. No signs, no windows, just a block of concrete with a steel door and cameras discreetly planted along the perimeter. The sun was almost up, and my boots crunched on the gravel as I walked toward the site. Each step f

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The uneasiness had taken a root inside of me since the moment they had clamped those handcuffs around his wrists. It sat in the pit of my stomach like a void threatening to swallow me whole. No matter how hard I tried to shake it off, it lingered, a constant fucking reminder of everything I’d done and everything I’d lost in the process. What terrified me more than anything was the thought of sitting across from him in that interrogation room and facing him. I chose to be in there. I wanted to be in there. Needed to be in there with all of them. Watching them from behind a pane of glass felt too distant. I needed to see their faces up close, to catch every flicker of emotion—or lack thereof. To hear the cadence of their words, the way they'd twist the truth like it was second nature. But most of all, I needed to know how he was holding up. I ran a hand through my hair, nails digging into my scalp just enough to ground myself, “Get it together, Kane,” I muttered