Semua Bab The Mafia Debt: Bab 41 - Bab 50

AriaThe house I'd grown up in looked like a crime scene. Furniture tipped over, drawers yanked out and emptied onto the floor, picture frames smashed against the walls. I stepped carefully around a broken lamp, my heart pounding against my ribs."Jesus," I muttered, taking in the destruction. Was this Cassian's doing? Or Riccardo's men? Did it even matter anymore?I picked my way through the chaos of the living room toward my bedroom, stepping over scattered books and clothes. My fingers trembled as I pushed open my bedroom door, dreading what I might find inside.It wasn't much better. My mattress had been slashed open, stuffing spilling out like guts. My closet door hung off its hinges, and someone had dumped all my clothes in a heap on the floor.But I wasn't here to cry over my destroyed possessions. I was here for one thing.I dropped to my knees beside my bed and felt along the floorboards until I found the loose one. Prying it up with my fingernails, I reached into the small

AriaThe wind whipped my hair as I stepped out of the terminal, clutching my backpack like a shield. Boston's late afternoon air hit my face with a chill I wasn't prepared for. I'd escaped—actually escaped—but the relief I'd expected to feel was nowhere to be found.His voice still echoed in my ears. "Aria!" The desperation in Cassian's tone had stopped me in my tracks. For a split second, I'd almost thought of going back.But I couldn't. Not after everything.I flagged down a taxi, sliding into the backseat with shaky hands. "South Station, please," I told the driver."You got it," he replied, pulling away from the curb.As the airport disappeared behind us, I leaned my head against the window, watching the unfamiliar city. I wasn't staying in Boston—it was just another stop on my escape route. I couldn't risk Cassian tracking me here.My phone was still in my pocket, still powered off. I knew the second I turned it on, they'd find me. Part of me wanted to throw it out the window, wa

CassianAria left, and I stopped calling too. The last time I reached out to her was four months ago. I hope she is happy now. I regret pushing her away every day.That was the truth of it. What else could I hold onto after pushing away the one person who saw beyond the monster everyone else feared? The reports from my men confirmed she was safe—that was all I needed to know. I'd given strict instructions: I don’t want anything personal. Just her location, her security status. I didn't need to know if she'd moved on, found someone else to share her warmth with. I wasn't a masochist.But fuck, I was a liar.I leaned back in my chair, running a hand down my face. Aria had been a temporary person in my life, yet her absence felt permanent.Sometimes her face appeared so vividly in my mind. The defiance in her eyes when she challenged me. The softness in her touch when she surrendered. The way her lips parted when I moved inside her.I never imagined missing someone's presence would feel

AriaThere was a moment of stunned silence, then a chuckle that haunted my nightmares."Well, well. If it isn't my darling daughter."My father. Silas.My knees nearly buckled. "How—" I swallowed hard. "You're supposed to be—""Dead? Locked up?" His laugh was dry, humorless. "Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart.""What are you doing?" I demanded. "What is Max to you?""Ah, Maxwell," my father said, his tone disturbingly pleased. "Such a useful young man. So eager to help when I told him about a certain mob boss who needed to be taught a lesson. And about his lovely little captive who needed rescuing.""You sent him? To—to what? Spy on me?""Among other things," my father replied. "The money from Cassian is quite substantial. Did you know that? Of course not. Cassian wouldn't have told you. He wanted to keep you dependent on him."My head spun. "That's not true.""Isn't it? Why do you think he kept you around? Out of the goodness of his heart?" My father's laugh was cruel. "Men like Ca

Aria I woke up gasping for air, my hands flying to my throat. The memory of Max's fingers crushing my windpipe made me choke on nothing but fear. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, the unfamiliar ceiling spinning above me. I tried to sit up, but my head pounded so violently I had to lie back down. This wasn't our apartment. The room was larger with heavy curtains blocking out most of the daylight. Some kind of villa or mansion, by the looks of it. The door opened with a soft click, and Max strolled in casually, as if we were on some romantic getaway. His expression was neutral, almost bored as he assessed me. "Ah, I can see you're awake," he remarked, leaning against the doorframe. I couldn't help but roll my eyes despite the fear coursing through me. "How observant of you," I replied, my voice hoarse and raw. His face changed instantly. "I'm not in the mood for your sass," he warned, taking a step closer. "That makes two of us," I retorted, forcing myself to sit up despit