Todos os capítulos de The Mafia's Kidnapped Bride: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Aryn The next morning, I woke up before the sun even considered rising. Lorenzo's bed was empty and my body hurts because of the awkward position I had slept in yesterday.I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and glanced at the nightstand.There it was. Still.Lorenzo’s black card.I stared at it like it might vanish. Like it was a dream I wasn’t supposed to be having. That thing could probably buy a small island. And he gave it to me.Not one of his surgically-enhanced sugar babies.Not his cold, glassy-eyed assistants in heels taller than their IQs.Me. I suppose I could feel a little honored.The awkward girl the maids mocked when they thought I couldn’t hear. The one who didn’t belong in silk sheets or marble-floored mansions.So, no—I wasn’t gonna use it to buy a fucking smoothie or whatever. I had a goal.Marco.He'd been sulking in that room since the day he got here. Like a storm cloud with a grudge. No greetings. No eye contact. Just grunts, cigarettes, and whisk

LorenzoArya laughed, low and breathy, the way she used to—like the world was a joke only the two of us understood. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned in close, straddling my lap. Her skin glowed, golden in the flickering candlelight. Her fingers traced my jaw, her smile playful, almost shy."Hey stranger." She said. Is.....is this real?"You missed me, didn’t you?" she whispered.I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat was dry, mouth parted, body aching with need. I just nodded like a fucking idiot, because I had missed her. Missed her so much it carved holes in my chest every damn day.Her lips grazed my neck, her breath hot, then her teeth—soft, teasing. I groaned, my hands gripping her waist, dragging her down against the hard line of my arousal. She gasped, hips rolling against mine. That sound—God, that sound—I used to live for it.Her fingers slid under my shirt, nails skimming over my ribs. I shuddered, my head falling back as her tongue flicked over my collarbone. I was burning

Lorenzo I’m a fucking idiot. No—scratch that. I’m 'the' fucking idiot. How the hell didn’t I see it? How the hell didn’t I 'know'? Aryn. Arya. Twin fucking sisters. It should’ve slapped me in the face from the moment I met her. Same eyes. Same goddamn mouth. Same nose, same fucking jawline. I chalked it up to coincidence—like a dumbass. Convinced myself I was just haunted. Seeing Arya where she wasn’t. Grief hallucinations. Whatever the fuck. But no. It was her 'sister'. The bitch played me. Lied. Stared me in the face, smiled like she didn’t know who I was—like she hadn’t come straight into my house with a plan. Goddamn it. I dropped into the armchair in my study, fingers digging into my temples. Rage boiled under my skin, but beneath that? Shame. Deep. Ugly. Suffocating. Arya kept secrets from me. She never told me about Aryn. She never told me much of anything, actually. Our whole relationship was half-glimpses and raw sex and the occasional moment where she looked at

ArynThree days. Three fucking, shitty days.That’s how long it had been.Three days of silence, of being locked in this room, of eating next to nothing. A crust of bread. A single apple. A glass of water that tasted more like pity than mercy. Not enough to live on. Just enough to not die. Not yet.Lorenzo wasn’t starving me.He was testing me.Punishing me, or maybe both.And I could feel it. In my ribs poking through tighter skin, in the cold shivers that came even when the air was warm, in the way my thoughts started to come slower. My stomach twisted and cramped with each hour that passed. My mouth was dry even though I’d rationed the water. He wanted me to beg and wanted me to break till I did so he was pulling this silly stunt. Just enough food to stay alive. Just enough water to keep my lips from cracking. A small piece of dry bread on the first day. Half a bruised apple on the second. A glass of water on the third. That was it.This wasn’t a room anymore.It was a tomb in wait

ArynThe next morning, I shoved the empty tray of food to the edge of the nightstand and stood at the mirror, inspecting the bruise on my collarbone like it had something new to say.It didn’t.Just like Lorenzo hadn’t come home.Coward.I knew it was more complicated than that, but still—fuck him.He left me alone with a folder full of betrayal and a thousand questions no one would answer. And I hated that it felt worse than any of the bruises on my skin. Because no matter how I turned it around in my head, I kept ending up in the same place: Arya was hiding shit.A lot of it.And if what Lorenzo said was true—if she’d really betrayed him, her own fiancé Liam, and possibly more people—I was stepping into a storm I didn’t even have boots for.I tied the robe tighter around my waist and stepped into the hallway, bare feet silent on the cold floor. I found Lorenzo exactly where I expected him—outside the study, talking to some guy in a charcoal suit with a buzzcut and a snake tattoo pee