All Chapters of THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The city outside was humming…a soft lullaby of horns, wind, and distant life. Inside the penthouse, it was a different world. Quiet. Dim. Gentle shadows kissed the polished floors, and the only light came from the tall windows that framed the skyline like paintings. Lucas exhaled as he stepped in, his shoulders finally dropping the tension of the day. Blood. Gunfire. Jean’s face. It all blurred now, muted beneath the hush of home. But it wasn’t empty. “Babe?” A soft rustle answered him. Curled up on the wide leather couch like a forgotten dream, Nico stirred. He looked small, swaddled in one of Lucas’s oversized hoodies, dark hair tousled, lips parted in sleep. His skin had that post-fever paleness. Lucas crossed the room with quiet urgency and crouched down before him, brushing his fingers lightly along Nico’s cheek. Nico blinked, groggy but alert. “Lucas…?” “I’m here,” Lucas murmured, voice low, rough with emotion. “Why didn’t you text me?” Nico sniffled. “Didn’t want

“You’re burning the toast,” Noel mumbled with a sleepy pout, lips brushing against Vincenzo’s neck.Vincenzo smirked, hands firmly locked around Noel’s thighs as the younger man sat on the kitchen counter, legs lazily dangling and wrapped slightly around Vincenzo’s waist. “That’s not toast,” he murmured back, mouth trailing from Noel’s collarbone up to his flushed cheek. “That’s your ass that’s getting grilled next if you don’t shut up.”Noel gasped, giggling despite himself, just as Vincenzo’s hand dipped too low.“That is not how you scramble eggs,” he muttered.“And yet, I’m doing a hell of a job turning you over easy.”Noel snorted, then suddenly went rigid.A knock. No…footsteps.And then…“Oh.”Isadora’s voice rang out like a chime. “Should we come back?”Noel froze.Vincenzo’s hand was still…on him.Still.On. Him.And his shorts were definitely still somewhere on the floor.“SHIT!”Noel slapped Vincenzo’s hand away and scrambled to pull his shorts up, nearly tripping over hims

Noel was already trembling when Vincenzo kicked the bedroom door shut."Please... Vincenzo... I need.. " Noel's voice was breathless, flushed, and desperate, the drug making his pupils dilated and his skin hot to the touch.Vincenzo dropped the coat from his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet as he crossed the room in long, purposeful strides. "I know, tesoro. I know. Come here."He reached for Noel, who had already begun unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers. "I didn’t drink that much," Noel whispered, his voice cracking. "It was him. It was Sven."Vincenzo's jaw tightened. His hands, however, were gentle as they cupped Noel’s flushed face. "Look at me. You’re going to be okay. I’ll get it out of your system. Just breathe. Just feel me."Noel surged forward, lips colliding with Vincenzo’s in a messy, needy kiss. Vincenzo steadied him, one hand at the back of his neck, the other pulling him in by the waist.Clothes fell away in increments… soft gasps, fabric rustling, the o

"You always did think too small, Jean."The voice crackled through the encrypted phone line, rich with disdain, clipped with power. Don Fausto Morvanti sat at the head of a long obsidian conference table, fingers steepled beneath his chin, flanked by Hydra’s most ruthless remaining heads. The villa’s war room was silent, save for the faint hum of security drones outside and the slow swirl of aged wine in Fausto’s glass.Jean Morvanti was on the other end of the line, seated in a dimly lit office of his own, surrounded by paper maps, surveillance feeds, and a bound, unconscious Sven in the adjacent room.“I’m thinking exactly the right size,” Jean replied coolly. “You’re just too arrogant to notice when your son outpaces you.”“Outpaces me?” Fausto chuckled low, leaning back in his throne-like chair. “You’re still cleaning up after Vincenzo’s scraps. Still chasing a boy who’s already chosen someone else. That’s not strategy, son. That’s delusion.”A flicker of something…hurt? Rage?...c

The room still reeked of blood, gunpowder, and betrayal. Jean stood in the center, shirt torn, bruises painting his face like war marks. Sven lay barely conscious in the corner, gagged and bound. Don Ramon was crouched by Alessia, her blood staining the hem of his sleeves. Aria and Francesca had their guns raised. Vincenzo stood tall, Noel just behind him, trembling but unflinching.Across from them, Don Fausto Morvanti stood calm amidst the chaos, like a king admiring his war. His tailored suit was immaculate despite the bloodshed, and a cold, amused smirk curled his lips. Four remaining Hydra heads flanked him, each armed and smug."Well, well," Fausto drawled, arms wide as if welcoming guests to a gala, "The De Luca family, united at last. And my bastard son... look at you, Jean. Like mother, like son. Bleeding and loud."Jean's jaw clenched. He stepped forward, ignoring the way Noel's hand gripped Vincenzo's tighter."Say her name again, and I swear I'll rip your tongue out."Faus