All Chapters of I Found My Mafia Mom, A Cop Husband: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Ava didn’t check the time. She didn’t need to.The view outside her windshield was a blur, with streaks of amber and red from traffic lights mixing together on the wet road caused by the steady rain.Her wipers moved in a hypnotic rhythm, but she barely noticed them. She drove without purpose, feeling detached, as the city blurred into dull shapes around her. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, making her knuckles turn white. Every turn and every stop came automatically, as if she were on autopilot.But inside her mind, it was chaos.The gunshot still rang like an alarm bell, repeating in a merciless loop. A sound that had ended a life and split her own open. It hadn’t been loud at the time. In fact, it had been terrifyingly soft. Almost delicate. Like the world had taken a breath and held it just long enough to witness what she’d done.Was it the right decision?Was she right to kill him, even when he begged?Should she have shown mercy?The questions chased her, biting a

"Take me," Ava urged Alex, her voice thick with desire.He groaned, positioning himself at her entrance. "As you wish, my lady," he murmured in response.Alex's voice was filled with desire, completely free of any restraints. The air between them pulsed with heat, the alcohol in their system enhancing the pull they felt for each other.Ava's body responded instantly, craving more of his touch, needing to feel the closeness between them deepen. She arched toward him, and his erection brushed against the opening of her core.Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and his lips met hers in a hungry kiss.The heat between them skyrocketed as she kissed him back, losing herself in his taste, the feel of his hands sliding down her back, pulling her closer.His scent overwhelmed her senses, and she felt her thighs clench together..She wanted more.She needed more.Alex growled low in his throat, his hand slipping to her waist. With a growl, he pulled her toward him. Her back wa

Ava stirred beneath a tangle of rumpled sheets, the faint warmth of sunlight bleeding in through the slats of the blinds. The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of traffic below and the occasional groan of old pipes expanding with the morning. She blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks, and became aware of the slow rise and fall of a chest beneath her palm.Alex.Her breath hitched.Memories from the previous night rushed in vividly… his hands gripping her skin, their breathless gasps in the dark, the way he’d whispered her name like a vow against her throat. Her body still hummed from the aftershocks. Her thigh draped over his, tangled in the sheets that now clung to her damp skin. Her hair, slightly matted, stuck to the back of her neck and to his shoulder. It had been a storm. Desperate, frantic, and filled with unspoken things. His hands had roamed like a man starved, and she hadn’t been gentle either; she'd needed to feel, to escape, to lose herself

The warehouse sat on the outskirts of the city, looking old and rundown. Its metal walls were rusty, and the tall windows were dirty from years of neglect. Inside, the air smelled musty, filled with grease and old oil. Dust danced in the sunlight coming through the rafters, giving the place a strange, eerie feeling.Ava moved quietly, her heels softly tapping against the concrete. She kept her hand near her gun, relaxed yet prepared. Ahead of her, Alex walked with an air of tension, his coat trailing behind him and his jaw clenched so tightly that she could see the muscle twitching near his temple.Near the back, under a single flickering bulb, stood Marco.“You’re late,” Marco rasped, flicking a cigarette ash onto the floor. His eyes darted toward Ava. “You bring her here now? You’re in deep, Ramos.”He tossed a manila folder onto the metal table between them. The slap echoed, followed by the soft crackle of shifting pages.“The Calabrians know,” Marco added in a low voice. “They

The scent of smoke still clung to Ava’s jacket like an accusation. It crawled beneath her collar, ghosted through her hair, and refused to let her forget the fire and failure of the night.She paced the length of her study, every step tight and calculated, as if she were walking the edge of something sharp. Her hands were clenched by her sides, her breath too shallow, her mind caught in an endless loop. “Vincenzo got away. The crates were empty. They were meant to be there.”On the leather couch, Alex sat quietly, his left cheek bruised from the debris blast. He didn’t speak at first, letting her wear her fury down to something she could use. She stopped by the window, hands braced against the frame. “We walked into a goddamn theater,” she muttered. “We followed fake intel into a firework show. Isabella’s playing me like a fool.”“No,” Alex said, rising. “She’s playing us. And she’s overplaying her hand.”Ava turned to him sharply. “That was a warning, Alex. That explosion wasn