Semua Bab MARRIED TO THE MAFIA: Bab 101 - Bab 110

LucaThe ring box sat on my nightstand, unopened.She’d picked it with a smile in her eyes and her fingers trembling as I slid the platinum band onto her hand, right there in the boutique. But I’d had the clerk wrap it anyway. Something about ceremony, about preserving the moment about keeping one thing untouched by the poison that always seemed to trail behind me.But now, as I sat in the dark, I couldn’t look at it without hearing my father’s voice again.You’ll regret this. All of it.I’d heard threats my entire life. From enemies. From allies. From people I’d buried and people I let live because it served me.But Richard wasn’t like them.He wasn’t impulsive or emotional. He didn’t shout or throw punches when he was angry.He destroyed things quietly. Efficiently. And always with a smile.I stared out the window into the garden where Lila and I had sat that morning. Where she’d laughed and eaten pancakes like she didn’t carry the weight of my name on her back. Like she hadn’t spent

LucaBy dawn, I had made up my mind.The decision came to me somewhere between the second and third hour of staring out the window, while Lila lay curled on my side of the bed, her hand resting protectively over her belly even in sleep.It wasn’t just that I didn’t trust my father.It was that I knew him.And I knew how he operated subtle, quiet, efficient. He’d already shown his hand once by taking the money. He would not hesitate to leverage my love for Lila if it meant regaining his leverage over me.And that was a risk I would not could not tolerate.So when the sun finally cracked the horizon, I called Paolo.He answered on the first ring, voice low and steady the way it always was before sunrise.“Boss.”“I need you to assemble the security detail,” I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t wake her. “Full rotation. Discretion is not a concern. I want visible protection on the house, the cars, and her.”“Understood.”“And Paolo…” I hesitated, my gaze flicking to her sleeping fo

LilaThe morning was deceptively calm. Which was weird. This house was never calm, it was always chaos after chaos. I’d woken to the scent of coffee drifting up the stairs, the low murmur of Luca’s voice on a call in his study. For a few precious minutes, it was almost possible to pretend that we were normal. That we weren’t living under the threat of something neither of us could name, only feel.I pulled on a soft sweater and leggings, braided my hair out of my face, and slipped outside.The garden had become my haven. Rows of pale pink roses lined the brick path, their petals bright against the gray sky. I’d always loved tending to them, the quiet focus of pruning and watering. Here, at least, my thoughts seemed to hush.I sank to my knees in the soft earth, pressing my palm over the swell of my stomach.You’re safe, I thought fiercely. No matter what happens, you’re safe.For a while, I just worked in silence trimming dead blossoms, pulling stray weeds, feeling the cool dirt coat

LucaThe hospital corridor was too bright, too clean. It smelled like antiseptic and flowers that had been left in the sun too long.I’d spent half the night here, pacing the tile floor, ignoring the sympathetic glances of nurses who must have thought they were witnessing some tender reunion between a man and the mother of his child.If they only knew.Vanessa had insisted I wait outside while she delivered. She’d cried when she saw me big, shimmering tears that had soaked the front of her hospital gown. She clutched my hand like she couldn’t bear to let go, whispering that she was scared, that she needed me.And God help me, even then, I’d felt nothing.Not hatred. Not warmth. Just a cold, exhausted emptiness that had been growing in me since the moment I realized I was in love with someone else.The delivery had been quick. She was young, healthy, and the baby had come without complication.So why did I feel like my lungs were full of broken glass?A nurse emerged from the delivery s

Lila. I don’t know what woke me.Maybe it was the way the air had gone still too still or the way the shadows shifted in the corners of the room as dawn bled into the curtains.Or maybe it was just that some part of me already knew.I lay there for a while, my eyes closed, listening to the slow, uneven rhythm of Luca’s breathing. He was sitting in the chair by the window, the same way he had been when we got home hours ago.I could feel him watching me even now.When I finally opened my eyes, he didn’t look away.“Can’t sleep?” I whispered.His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.I pushed myself up slowly, careful not to jostle the soreness in my back. The baby shifted low in my belly, a warm, heavy reminder of everything that mattered.“Luca.”He didn’t move.His gaze was steady too steady.“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.“Nothing.”I let out a shaky breath. “Don’t do that.”“Do what?”“Lie to me.”His mouth pressed into a thin line.He looked exhausted. Older, somehow, than I’d eve