All Chapters of The Mafia's Kidnapped Bride: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

LorenzoThe night air was sharp and cold, when I finally stepped outside with Aryn in my arms. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her breath shallow, her face pale under the bruises. My chest tightened at the sight of her. She was too light in my arms, like she’d been carrying the weight of hell itself and it hollowed her out.Every step I took out of that fucking building felt like dragging a mountain, but I wasn’t stopping. Not while she was breathing, not while her heartbeat still fluttered weakly against my chest.The gravel crunched under my boots. Somewhere ahead I heard voices—rough, tense. My instincts screamed at me to stay sharp.And then I saw them.Liam. He was half-stumbling, half-dragging Marcus, who looked like death itself had already claimed him once and was just waiting to finish the job. Marcus’s skin was ashen, his shirt soaked through with blood. His eyes barely stayed open, his jaw slack as if he was clinging to life by a thread.Beside them stood a man I would

ArynHospitals blur time. Days don’t feel like days—they feel like the same endless stretch of fluorescent lights, beeping machines, and the faint smell of bleach clinging to everything.At some point, I stopped counting.The only reason I knew how long I’d been there was because Marcus wouldn’t shut up about it.“Three weeks,” he said one afternoon, leaning back in the plastic chair at the corner of my room. “Three. I’ve counted every damn day, Aryn. You’re racking up a bill that could feed a whole army.”I rolled my eyes. “Glad to know I’m worth so much.”“You’re worth more,” he muttered, too low for me to respond, before reaching for the snack bag Lorenzo had left behind.That was another thing—Lorenzo.If someone had told me a month ago that a tattooed, scarred, mean-looking bastard would end up practically living in my hospital room, I’d have laughed in their face. But here we were. He slept on that lumpy visitor chair more than in his own bed, brought me food I wasn’t supposed t

ArynThe silence stretched between us after I said it. Isabella just stood there, her hand curled at her side like she was holding back from clawing my face off.Then, slowly, she walked back toward me. Her heels clicked against the tile, each sound drilling into my skull.She stopped at the edge of my bed and leaned forward, her eyes burning holes through me.“Where,” she asked in a low, measured voice, “did you hear that?”I tilted my head back against the pillow, refusing to flinch. “Let’s just say… you have no idea what the walls have to offer.”Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t play games with me, Aryn.”“Oh, sweetheart,” I muttered, my lips curving into a smile that was more teeth than warmth. “I’m not playing. You just don’t know who’s listening when you open that pretty little mouth of yours.”The fury on her face was delicious. She was about to snap, her lips parting when the door burst open so hard it slammed against the wall.Lorenzo stormed in, his presence filling the room.“Time

ArynThe moment the words left my mouth, the whole table seemed to stop breathing.Isabella’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, slicing through the silence. “Tomorrow morning then,” she said smoothly, like she was setting a brunch date instead of a fucking duel. “At sunrise.”“Fine,” I said without hesitation. My voice was steady, sharp. “Tomorrow morning.”I pushed back my chair, the scrape of wood on tile loud enough to echo. My chest ached from the sudden movement, but I didn’t care. I refused to sit at that table another damn second with her smug face staring at me.I stood and walked out, my chin high, my fists clenched so tightly my nails bit into my palms.Of course, footsteps followed me. I didn't have to turn to know it was Lorenzo.“Aryn,” he called after me. “Wait.”I spun on my heel halfway down the hall, my eyes blazing. “What?”He stopped short, his hand lifting like he wanted to grab me but thought better of it. “I won’t allow this.”A harsh laugh esc

Aryn“Who the hell made the rules?” I blurted before Isabella could prance another word out of her perfectly painted mouth.The crowd shifted, whispers spreading like wildfire, as though I’d just spat on some holy ground. Isabella’s eyes gleamed, sharp as knives.She tilted her head at me, lips curling into a mocking smirk. “What’s the matter, Aryn? Scared?”My blood heated instantly. “Scared? Of you? Please. I’ve seen scarier things at the bottom of my fucking closet.”That earned a few gasps, some muffled laughs. Isabella’s smile tightened, but before she could clap back, someone else stepped forward.It was her. Giselle. The one woman who never wasted a single opportunity to remind me how much she hated that I existed.“Well,” Giselle said, her voice as smooth and poisonous as oil, “since you seem so confused, let me explain. The duel will not be the kind you imagine, Aryn. We don’t simply stand here and shoot at one another like common criminals.”She took her time, walking slowly