Todos os capítulos de MARRIED TO THE MAFIA: Capítulo 181 - Capítulo 190

LilaI didn’t know how long we’d been in the panic room.Time moved differently in here thick and syrupy, as if every second stretched into an hour.I’d tried not to look at the clock on the wall, but my eyes kept darting back to it. Watching the minutes crawl by while my heart galloped against my ribs.Gabriel slept in my arms, wrapped in a blanket so soft it felt like air. His tiny face was peaceful, his mouth slack in sleep. I couldn’t stop running my thumb over the curve of his cheek, needing the reassurance that he was warm, that he was breathing.That he was still here.Lena paced a narrow strip of floor between the reinforced door and the little kitchenette. Every few minutes, she would stop to check the security feed on the tablet mounted to the wall, as if she expected to see the house burning to the ground.She looked over at me, her dark eyes wide and worried.“Has he called you?” she asked.I shook my head. My throat felt too tight to answer out loud.Luca hadn’t called. H

LucaI’d seen men die before.I’d seen them bleed out on warehouse floors, in the back seats of cars, on marble stairs just like these.But I’d never felt this kind of panic this hollow, tearing dread as I watched Lila slip away in my arms.“Stay with me,” I kept whispering, but her eyes were glassy and unfocused.Her breathing was shallow little gasps that sounded too far apart.Enzo ripped open the trauma kit, and the medic dropped to his knees beside me.“Sir, we have to lay her flat.”“She’s losing too much,” I rasped. My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was ragged, broken. “Fix it.”“We will,” the medic said calmly. “But you need to let go so I can see.”I looked down at my hands. They were slick with her blood. My palms were pressed so hard against her side that my knuckles had turned white.Slowly, I forced myself to ease back.The medic peeled her shirt away, revealing the wound a clean entry in her hip. No exit.Lena hovered behind me, her hands clamped over her mouth. She wa

LilaIt felt like surfacing through a thick fog.At first, there was only darkness warm and heavy, pressing down on me like a weighted blanket I couldn’t shove off.Then I started to hear things.A low, rhythmic beeping.The hush of voices somewhere behind a curtain.And over all of it, the quiet, labored sound of my own breathing.I tried to open my eyes, but it felt like they were glued shut.Panic fluttered in my chest.Was I still in the house?Was Luca safe?Was Gabriel. Gabriel.The thought of my son cut through the fog like a blade.My heart kicked, sending a jolt of pain radiating through my side.I sucked in a shallow breath, trying to force my eyes open again.“Lila.”It was Luca’s voice rough and hoarse and impossibly close.I tried to turn my head toward him, but something tugged at my arm.“Don’t move,” he murmured. His palm was warm against the back of my hand. “You’re okay.”I finally managed to crack my eyes open.The lights above me were dim, but everything still loo

Lila The room is too quiet when I wake.Not the kind of quiet that soothes but the kind that leaves you alone with your thoughts, with the hum of machines and the echo of memory.At first, I think I’ve dreamed it all.The gunshots.The chaos.The pain.But then I move, just slightly and fire shoots through my side.I suck in a sharp breath.The bandages are tight around my waist and hip, thick enough to make it feel like I’m being held together by gauze and stubbornness.I turn my head slowly. Luca isn’t here.His absence makes the room feel colder.I blink at the pale ceiling, trying to force the tears back. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry again. Not when I made it through the worst. Not when I lived.But surviving isn’t the same as healing.And right now, everything feels broken.A soft knock comes at the door before it opens a crack.Anna steps in first, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers in her arms.She hesitates when she sees me awake.“I… didn’t mean to wake you,” she say

LilaI stare at the hospital ceiling, sterile white panels staring back at me like they’re trying to hide secrets in their quiet stillness. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor beside me is both a comfort and a warning, I’m alive, but not untouched. My hip aches with a dull, angry throb, and despite the meds they gave me, the pain sneaks past, finding cracks in my armor.The room is quiet now. Too quiet. Luca had stepped out a while ago to talk to the police. I think. Maybe to make a call. Maybe to scream. I wouldn’t blame him. My thoughts are a fog, but some things are sharp, vivid. Lena’s scream, the blood on my hands, the way Luca's face turned pale when he saw me crumple to the floor.I shift slightly, wince, and turn my head to the side. The bassinet is right next to my bed, and inside it, bundled in soft blue and white, is our baby. My son. My whole heart in one tiny, perfect bundle. He’s sleeping peacefully, his tiny fingers twitching in his sleep like he’s dreaming already.I c