Semua Bab Sweet Mafia Protector: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Lyra’s POV I tightened my grip on the cool, rough surface of the wall, my eyes locked onto Rebekah as Vincenzo's words hung in the air, thick with defiance. "Lyra in question is mine; your son is merely proving to be stubborn." The deep, rumbling laugh of Marcello's godfather resonated through the room—a sound I recognized but had never truly engaged with—and it sent a chill racing down my spine, like the sensation of ice water trickling through my veins. Rebekah's gaze met mine, her eyes sparkling with mischief, betraying a sense of amusement that sparked a counterfire within me. I raised an eyebrow, challenging the unspoken tension between us as I pushed off the wall, the movement igniting a sense of purpose within me. I strode toward her with measured confidence, the sharp, rhythmic click of my heels against the polished floor reverberating through the dimly lit hallway, amplifying the intensity of the moment. "Do you really think Godfather is going to let Vincenzo escape with

Rebekah povI paced in my dimly lit room, hands firmly placed on my waist, trying to corral the chaos swirling in my mind into some semblance of order. Sneaking Lyra out of the pack house without Marcello discovering our plan was destined to be a challenge in itself. I shuddered at the thought of his overbearing presence potentially ruining everything. That man seemed blissfully unaware of the concepts of personal space and basic dignity, and I couldn't let him interfere.With a determined stride, I made my way to Lyra's wardrobe, its worn wooden doors creaking slightly as I yanked them open. A sea of colors and fabrics blossomed before my eyes; blouses in vibrant hues, jeans in various cuts, and dresses that whispered of freedom. I quickly scanned through the haphazard assortment, picking out a few essentials that could be easily hidden in a small but sturdy handbag. I shoved in a soft cotton t-shirt, a pair of leggings, and her favorite sweater—a cozy, oversized thing that smelled f

Lyra pov I really hoped I had made the right decision escaping with Vincenzo. A man I barely knew. He was driving really fast, it scared me..where were we even going?I pray he never gets violent with me the way Marcello did , if he does I will break the record by breaking his head. I thought as he kept driving to this so called secret hideout . No conversation, no sneezing, no snickering, just keep the focus like a security personnel. I leaned back to the chair, the weather was already getting stormy, my heart started racing because the journey was taking way too long and Marcello would soon find out that I had left his pack. The thought of Marcello discovering that I had left his pack.A wave of fear washed over me. The thought loomed large that I wouldn’t have a moment to enjoy my newfound freedom before facing the consequences—death seemed imminent. Even if fate had inexplicably granted us a wild night filled with passion, a 'sex marathon' as some might playfully call it, all I

Marcello’s POV A deep sense of unease washed over me as I walked past Lyra’s room, its ancient wooden door a reminder of the past. This door, worn and cracked from years of neglect, was the first room my mother had chosen when her relationship with my father became strained before her untimely death. It felt like a portal to unresolved pain, a choice steeped in emotional turmoil and heavy with memories. I found myself frozen in place before Lyra's door, my hand tightly gripping the tarnished doorknob as if it were the only anchor keeping me from whatever awaited me inside. The moment I finally pushed the door open, the creaking of the wood sliced through the silence of the corridor, echoing like the haunting whispers of the secrets this room had guarded for so long. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and dust, a testament to the years gone by. This was my mother’s sanctuary during her darkest days. It was probably a bad idea leaving Lyra here, this place was sacred to

Vincenzo’s POV: I watched Lyra’s throat move as she swallowed hard.Damn it. This wasn’t how I’d planned to introduce her. “Well, she is..Lyra. Her n-name is Lyra,”I stammered. Claire shifted her gaze to Lyra.”Hmm. So, Lyra…”she circled like a hawk. “What brings you here?” Lyra’s eyes darted to me—pleading lost. But what the hell was I supposed to say?She’s my mate?They’d laugh me out of the house. “Sister,”I interrupted, “we’ve had a long day. We can save the chit-chat for later.” Before Claire or Cassandra could respond, I gripped Lyra’s arm and seized the momentary gap between them. My heart pounded as I hurried away, acutely aware of their eyes fixed on us.I’d explain everything to them later. This was definitely not the time.. Once we reached the guest room, I turned to Lyra. “Just ring the bell if you need anything, okay? I’ll be back—I just need to freshen up.” She nodded absently, her attention already captured by the room’s details. Should I tell her about