Semua Bab My Stepfather's Deadly Obsession: Bab 211 - Bab 219

SALVATORE “Why would he even end his own life?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I sat stiffly on the couch, staring at the officer across from me. He looked tired, but was trying his best to do his job. His eyes moved every now and then to Miguel who was sitting at the far end of the sofa, quiet and broken.The officer’s voice was low. He spoke about reports, about the things Paul had left behind, about records that named Miguel as family. That was why they had come here, why they had sat down in our new home to pass condolences. Condolences for a man who was gone too suddenly, far too violently, though only I and Miguel carried the truth of how it had really ended.I leaned forward and clasped my hands together, playing in the plot I’d created.“He had such a bright future ahead of him. So much in front of him. Why would he even do this to himself?” I said again, feeling my throat tighten on the words. It was easier to ask it aloud, easier to play into the scri

MIGUELThe first thing I felt was his weight above me, heavy enough to pin me to the floor, knocking me up in a way I hadn’t realised I craved. Oh, I fucking missed this.But he wasn’t rough like I had begged him to be. There was no frantic tearing or punishing grip. Salvatore’s hands were careful, his movements almost reverent, as though he was afraid I might break beneath him.My breath caught in my throat when his lips brushed mine. I tried to protest, to remind him of the words I had whispered earlier but the thought dissolved the moment he kissed me again. He kissed me like there was nowhere else he would rather be, like there was nothing in the world but my mouth against his.We were sprawled across the rug, alone and hungry. I barely even felt the soft wool on my back. All I knew was him: his weight pressing into me, the warmth of his chest against mine, the heat of his breath against my neck as he trailed soft kisses lower, and his stubble scratching my neck and shoulders just

SALVATOREI paced the sitting room like a man with fire in his veins. The lamps were on, and dusk was already painting the windows with shades of orange and purple, but all I could see was Miguel’s still face resting against the couch cushion. He looked fragile there, too pale. Every breath of his felt like a blessing I was terrified to lose.The low murmur of voices surrounded me. Two officers were stationed at the dining table with some files spread open, scratching their pens across the paper. Bach sat with his hands folded neatly, his calm expression betraying none of the nerves I knew had to be running beneath the surface. Luca was less composed. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and tracked me every time I crossed the room like he expected me to break.“Sit, Sal,” Luca muttered. “You’re making them nervous.”I stopped in my tracks and turned on him with a glare. “Good. Maybe being nervous will make them faster.”The officers glanced up at me before returning to th

SALVATOREThe night felt heavy. It was the kind of night that pressed on my chest and made the silence inside the car almost unbearable. The dim streetlights painted Luca’s face in sharp lines as we drove through the quieter parts of Palermo. We couldn’t go to the bank; it was too late. And even if we could, I didn’t want anything that would help what was already floating around the news. I had no idea if anyone was monitoring my bank accounts.But there was a black-market depot that we could get fast cash from. In bulk, too.We reached the depot without a word. It was hidden behind an old warehouse that had cracked walls and was covered with faded paint. A man was already waiting for us, leaning against the doorway, his cigarette glowing in the dark. He didn’t ask questions. With a nod, he led us inside, down a corridor that smelled of rust and damp.Stacks of bills were laid out on a table, bound so tightly that it looked like the money itself was suffocating. Luca helped me load

MIGUELIt was exactly a month later, a month of everything happening at once. First, my speech to the reporters had caused an uproar, because when they did as I said—making their findings—the cat was soon out of the bag. She was charged with kidnapping me, domestic violence when I was a child, giving wrong information to the law, and then extorting me and my family. She instantly went into hiding, because her passport was confiscated and her accounts frozen.The account she deposited the money Salvatore paid into was also frozen, and the money was soon investigated and refunded to Salvatore. Now, Emily was stuck somewhere in Italy, unable to run or walk freely, or even use her own money. What a joke!In between all these, we were busy planning a wedding. The week leading up to the wedding had been a blur. Every day, the house was alive with planning, laughter, and arguments over details that didn’t really matter in the end. Luca and the cousins had voted unanimously for a mafia weddi