Lahat ng Kabanata ng Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King : Kabanata 221 - Kabanata 230

But I couldn’t. My legs refused to move. He loomed too close, and his presence overwhelmed me.Suffocating and inescapable.I barely had time to process it when he spun me, and suddenly, my back pressed against the tough wood of the bookshelf. The sharp edge bit into my skin through my thin silk shirt, but it didn’t matter. All I could focus on was him, his body crowding mine, his musk scent intoxicating, his heat searing into me like a brand.He growled against my throat like a wild predator. “You’re not running.”I shook my head, barely able to speak. God, his breath felt so warm. And he felt so good. Quick warmth pooled between my thighs“No, I’m not. I’m not a coward, asshole.”“But you’re a fucking brat.” He trailed hot, wet kisses down my throat, to the dip of my collarbone, and back up again.I quivered, ridiculously saying, “Yes, I’m a fucking brat.”“Myfucking brat,” he corrected. “Mine, Leonya.”Jesus.My pulse thundered in my ears, my breath hitching as his hand braced abov

RafayelWhen Leonora had said her father was sick, I didn’t expect the results to literally be close to the grave. He was sick as fuck. No wonder he needed his daughter to run things.Enzo’s eyes were tired and dull, and the hazel in them was not as vibrant. Olive skin was now pale ash with wrinkles, making him look years older than he was, and the vigorous and brutal feared man I’d clashed with once was nothing but a shell now.But dealing with his daughter taught me not to underestimate anyone, not even a walking corpse.His lapdog, Marco, pinned sharp eyes on me while he wheeled Enzo’s chair around the table and stood by his side. Marco didn’t trust me; Enzo sure as hell didn’t either. I might have as well brought them into the open as an easy target for a gunman. But that was not why we were here.Enzo started speaking but stopped short when he began coughing and wheezing like an off-tune bagpipe. It was harsh and disastrous. Half-heartedly, I expected the old man to slump like a

I wasn’t about to give him more reasons to doubt me. I didn’t flinch. There was no point in lying to him. Not when I was aware he tracked my phone for security reasons.I straightened my back, met his gaze, and answered simply, “I was talking to Marco. I asked about my papa and the situation with Rossi. He said the alliance ended badly. And Luca is dead. My papa shot him.”He visibly relaxed and shrugged. “Was bound to happen, wasn’t it?”I looked again and noticed that Rafayel was unnaturally calm. He was always calm, but this one had something more to it. The air he carried was unbothered, and he didn’t seem to care.“You had something to do with it, didn’t you?” That was the only explanation I had.“Maybe.” He shrugged again.“Rafa.”His eyes flashed with that familiar heat, and I suppressed a grin. I knew I would get my answer if I called him that. It always disarmed him.He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the blue-gold vintage dresser he installed in the room

I’d barely even touched her, but my balls were already hanging heavy in my boxer briefs. I wasn’t sure how slow I was willing to go tonight.Leonora lay back on the bed, gluing her eyes to the ceiling while I pressed the lotion onto my palm. I started from her feet, rubbing her heels and gently massaging all the way up to her ankles. She hmmed. I knew they were sore from all the moves she’d made on the floor.“Rafa?”Blood thrummed in my ears, my cock grew between my legs, and I wasn’t sure whose heavy breathing filled the silence in the room.“Yeah?”“Why do people call youZver?”I laughed, swearing under my breath. The memories were still as fresh. “I ripped a man’s throat out once. And another time, I fed a man his dick. Both happened years ago.”She shuddered, and I expected her to question it, but she didn’t. “You did stand in the middle of a goddamn road to shoot at me once, so I believe you. The other two, what did they do?”“Both were pedophiles. Both trafficked women, and one

Leonora The afternoon was quiet, and it was the kind that felt heavier than it should have. For the past five months, the weight in my chest grew as steadily as the child in my womb. I sat on the edge of the sofa, resting my hands protectively over my swollen belly. The house was still, except for the distant noise from some of the men beyond the windows. When I heard familiar footsteps echo through the foyer, I knew it was Rafayel before his tall frame came through the parlor. Relief swept through me. He was home. Recently, I craved his presence as much as I craved his body. Just having him in the same space kept me from teetering off the edge or crying for no reason. I looked up as he stepped inside, his tie loosened, his phone still pressed to his ear. I smiled, but he didn’t. He mouthed, “Just a second,” and retreated to the kitchen to finish his call. I sat there, staring at the pattern on the rug, rehearsing the words I’d been turning over in my mind for weeks. When he