บททั้งหมดของ When the Mafia Lord Falls: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

I tore my eyes away from the snake tattoo, but not before cataloging every coil and twist like I was preparing to give a witness statement in court.Why was it always the absurdly attractive men who had ominous tattoos?Like some kind of cosmic joke to remind women that yes, red flags can come wrapped in extremely comfortable-looking sweaters and smirks sharp enough to cut glass.“Maeve,” I introduced myself finally, shaking his hand because apparently, my mother did raise me with manners. Even if my current state screamed ‘dumpster fire in progress.’His grip was firm, warm, and lingered just a second too long. My palm felt like it was going to combust, and I had to actively remind myself not to immediately pull out the travel-sized hand sanitizer from my bag.“Pleasure,” Elian replied, still wearing that insufferably charming half-smile.I turned my head toward the window, hoping he’d take the hint that I was done interacting.Spoiler Alert: He did not.“So, Maeve,” he continued, ca

Two hours into the flight, I slumped back into my seat, my panda neck pillow crooked and digging into my jaw.The whiskey I’d nursed earlier still lingered on my tongue, but it hadn’t done much to settle the tight coil of tension in my chest. I was still rattled by the fact that the perpetrator of the mafia murder back home happened to be in Harlen, too.The place I was at a mere hours before.Trying to lose myself in the boring movie playing in front of me, I felt Elian was still watching me. Not the polite kind of watching either, but the kind that made me hyper-aware of every awkward movement I made, every twitch of my fingers against the armrest."You know, for someone who just dropped a bombshell like that, you’re surprisingly composed," Elian’s voice was low, smooth, and, ugh… almost teasing.Why did he sound like that?I shot him a look. "Composed? My entire spine feels like it’s been replaced with pool noodles, Elian."He smirked, the corner of his mouth curling in a way that

The hotel room was ridiculously fancy. We’re talking gold-threaded curtains, silk sheets, and pillows so fluffy they could probably file taxes as dependents. Somewhere in the chaos of landing, catching a ride, and being buzzed off overpriced cocktails, I’d managed to follow Elian into this temple of overpriced elegance.Now, here I was, back pressed against a very expensive-looking door, staring at a man who casually tossed his sweater onto an armchair, only to reveal a black T-shirt that clung to his torso like it was scared of heights.How did I get here? Oh yeah. Whiskey. Betrayal. The undeniable urge to spite my ex and his community-sharing… assets.“You don’t have to do this, Maeve.” Elian’s voice was soft, but that goddamn smirk told me he was hoping I’d do exactly this.My responsible brain screamed at me to leave. To be sensible. To not let a man with the bone structure of a Marvel villain and a voice like melted chocolate ruin what little dignity I had left.But my body?Oh,

Elian lay sprawled next to me on the over-priced hotel bed, looking far too smug for someone who had absolutely ruined my ability to walk in a straight line today. Maybe even this week. His fingers danced lazy circles on my spine, and his lips pressed feather-light kisses against my temple.I sighed, a mix of contentment and exhaustion, and just as I was ready to doze off again, my phone began its obnoxious vibrating samba on the nightstand. Once. Twice. Three times.Clearly, whoever was calling had zero respect for post-coital bliss.“Don’t,” Elian murmured, his voice low and sinful as he buried his face in my neck.“Duty calls, Romeo,” I muttered, flailing blindly for the phone. “And unlike some people, I can’t just smirk my way out of responsibilities.”“Summers, here,” I answered crisply, hoping I sounded far more professional than I felt while half-naked and tangled in expensive sheets.‘Morning, Detective. Sorry to wake you, but we’ve got a meeting in an hour. Aaron Somerset, th

“This is a bad idea,” said Charlie Duffy. Her voice crackled through the speaker, loud and unmistakably exasperated. I could almost see her pushing up her oversized glasses, eyebrows knit together in that classic Charlie-judging-you face. “Like, a really bad idea.”“It’ll be fine,” I murmured, though my heart hadn’t quite caught up with the conviction in my voice.We hadn’t talked in weeks. Between the catastrophe that was my job and the slow-motion wreckage of my marriage, I hadn’t exactly been good at keeping up with weekly calls. Charlie would argue those calls were the very thing keeping me tethered to sanity.She might’ve had a point.“You should’ve called sooner,” she sighed. “I could’ve talked you out of this nonsense before it spiraled into a full-blown operation.”“It’s not nonsense. It’s my last chance to salvage my career,” I said, pacing the apartment with the phone tucked under my chin. “You remember how the last one ended. This is an opportunity, Char. A solid lead. And