All Chapters of The Mafia Devil's Princess: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

I pulled my hand after a minute of staring. Tight chest, caught breath between ribs. Sebastian stared at me, his hard lines etched with confusion. When the situation hit him, his expression changed with retreat, hesitation, and a rare vulnerability.“W-What… happened?” His voice cracked low, unfamiliar, like the man in front of me wasn’t the untouchable figure he always tried to be.“You tell him.” My tone was sharper than I intended, but my body moved before thought—stepping back, planting myself behind Alexandrei’s broad frame. He blocked me with the kind of rigid stance that screamed law and iron.“You wouldn't tell me what happened?” “No, I—” He struggled to sit up but was in pain. He groaningly backed against the bed, the wound screaming louder than his voice. “Argh!”“You’re shot,” I reminded coldly, arms folding. “I operated without anesthesia. I had no choice.”His eyes widened at me, horror dawning. “Y… You saved me? Again?”Saved him?What an understatement for every

“She’s onto us!” Selene Evergreen swiped all the objects in the table, crashing them all into the floor. Her hair was in tangles, as if she had just pulled the with her own hands from the stress. She paced around the room, her eyes bloodshot as she turned her head across the wall. “She’s going to ruin it all! You didn’t kill her!” “Perhaps you’re forgetting your place?” The Monsignor’s cold voice brought a shrill into the already frigid room. This polar hues pierce everyone’s who dared look at them. In an instant, the room became silent— but not Selene’s.. “You promised you would take care of her!” “And you promised to kill her, yourself.” The Monsignor snapped back with a low tone, irritated. “Where had your promise gone?” Selene’s throat dried as she looked at him. His orders were authority— and she’d rather follow them than lose her life, herself. “I risked resources to have you escape prison. Now it your turn to fulfill your part of the deal.” “How can I hunt her when she’s

MEMORIES OF THE PASTYulia Novair remembered how the vows tasted like poison disguised as honey on her tongue. The cathedral bells rang, echoing into her marrow like a sentence rather than a union. She stood in her white gown with pearls on every fold and foreign hands sculpting her hair into waves. Everyone thought she was a princess destined for gilded elegance. They didn't see her fingers trembling under the bouquet or her throat burning with dread as she whispered, “I do.”Her companion, Salvatore—Monsignor, as he was known—smiled like an emperor who had conquered new territory. His dark eyes showed possession, not love. That smile was the first sign, and she should have run then. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.Her family had chosen him. She had been promised.At the reception, she remembered stretching out her hand for the first time, trying to bridge the chasm between strangers. “I’m Yulia Novair,” she said softly, looking up at him. “It’s good to finally meet you, Salvatore.

The condominium was unnervingly silent after Kierra left.Pressured silence, like the walls were closing in. Sebastian was lying and bleeding on the sofa, his hand on the half-dried blood oozing from his wound as he presses against it more. The city lights through the window, shading half of Alexandrei's face.He wasn’t looking at Sebastian, not directly. But the weight of his presence pressed against him, heavier than the bleeding wound itself.Finally, Alexandrei spoke. “You’re not telling me everything.”Sebastian tilted his head, smirk weak but still sharp. “And why would I?”“Because Kierra deserves to know what she’s walking into,” Alexandrei snapped, turning sharply. His eyes were hard, cutting like ice. “She’s already been dragged into enough of your antics. I’m not about to stand here and let you bury her deeper.” "Kierra will hear it. But from me. Not from you. Not from anyone else. When the time comes."“That’s not good enough.” Alexandrei stepped forward. His voice was

“It’s been a while, Damian.”Damian smirked at me from the other side of the glass partition. That familiar smugness—it hadn’t changed.He wasn't curious or thrilled to see me. No, he was entertained, as if my presence was a secret joke. “I’m surprised you’re still alive, Kierra,” he muttered, relaxing on the metal chair like a predator. His voice had the venomous contempt I recalled.“And I’m surprised your wife didn’t strangle you in your sleep.” I smiled back with spite. “She must be out there somewhere, enjoying her last fleeting moments of freedom. Without you.”His jaw tensed, though he tried to mask it with a slow exhale. I’d struck the first blow.“She’ll come for me."I tilted my head. “Funny because she left you alone to the wolves. She didn't even bother coming back for you. you know? She was too busy running for her own skin. Not much of a wife, is she? Though maybe it’s fitting. A pity.”The amusement drained from his face, just for a second. That fleeting silence was a