All Chapters of Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The hum of the hairdryer fills the room, soft and rhythmic, like a buffer between me and my thoughts.I sit at the vanity, towel still clinging to my hips, a brush in one hand as I guide the hot air through the ends of my hair. My eyes are fixed on the mirror, but I’m not really looking at myself. My mind is a thousand miles away.Trapped between my feelings and reality. I wasn’t going to lie—I considered a few times now to throw away the USB and pretend I don’t know anything.Pretend that there’s a gap in my memory from the most painful night of my life. But I can only run from the truth for only so long.It’s not the only thing gnawing at me.I don’t even know if I trust my father. Not fully. There’s a deep, persistent pull in my gut I can’t ignore. I don’t know if it’s guilt—because I’ve betrayed my mother’s memory over and over again by letting Hale touch me—or if it’s something else. Something colder. Louder. Like my instincts refusing to let me get comfortable. Like some part of

It’s sometime past midnight.The room is quiet. Still. Nothing moves except the slow, steady rise of Hale’s chest beside me. The sheets are tangled at our waists. My skin is bare beneath them, and the heat of his body lingers everywhere he touched. His arm lies draped across my stomach, anchoring me there.It would be so easy to fall back asleep like this.But I can’t.Not now—knowing fully what needs to be done.My heart hasn’t stopped racing since I opened my eyes. I’ve been lying here, counting each second, waiting for the right moment.I need to move.I shift slightly, easing my legs free one at a time. Hale’s arm tightens instinctively, pulling me back into him. His face is buried near my shoulder. His breath is slow but deep. I freeze, not daring to breathe.Goodness forbid, if this man wakes up… I close my eyes, exhale a heavy breath, then reopen my eyes.Then I try again.Carefully, I lift his arm and guide it down to the mattress beside me. His fingers twitch but don’t reach

Hale’s pov.I wake to a silence that doesn’t feel right.It’s the kind that smothers everything. No low hum from the heating vent. No subtle buzz from the hallway lights. No faint glow from the clock on the nightstand. Just heavy, absolute blackness.I sit up, slowly at first, trying to blink through the dark.The clock is off.The entire room is off.I reach across the bed, aiming for Cali, ready to pull her against me before I get up to check what tripped the breaker. My hand lands on a stack of pillows arranged in a neat row beside me.Not tossed aside like she rolled away in her sleep. No. Perfectly positioned to give off the illusion of someone lying next to me in bed.Fuck. I shoot up from the bed and tear open the drawer. My hand wraps around the Glock. I don’t think twice. I grab a pair of black pants, yank them on, and move.The hallway is dead quiet. The backup generators haven’t kicked in.Which means this wasn’t a power surge. It wasn’t weather. It wasn’t some freak accid

I collapse to my knees, my palms scraping the floor to break my fall.My heart shatters—torn to bloody pieces.I’ve fucked up. Bad. So badly there’s no undoing it.As my body convulses with harsh sobs, the bitter truth sinks in: I should’ve watched that footage first. Before pulling this reckless stunt.I should’ve.But I was stupid—blinded by a fool’s trust in my father.If even a sliver of common sense had stayed with me, I would’ve seen it all. Felt the pain coming.At least then, I might’ve held on to the last shred of choice—to crawl back into Hale’s arms and pretend nothing had shifted. To drown in the heat of his touch—safety, comfort, a fragile illusion.I fall back with my spine pressing against the wall.My skin’s clammy. My limbs won’t stop shaking. I can’t get warm.I want to be angry—and I want to fight.But I can’t.All I feel is the ache in my chest where something important used to be.The truth swallowed me whole.My father murdered my mother.And I blamed the wrong m

HaleShe’s still curled into me when I wake.Small, quiet, pressed so tightly against my chest it’s like she’s trying to disappear inside me.Not that I’d let her get any farther than that.Her breath is warm against my collarbone. Her fingers are balled into my shirt. My arm is numb beneath the weight of her body, but I don’t move. I stay there and let her have it. Let her have me. Just for this.For now.Sunlight bleeds through the blackout curtains I forgot to close properly last night. The clock on the nightstand blinks red—almost six p.m.We’ve been in this bed nearly a full day.The first full sleep I’ve had in weeks, and it had to come with her in my arms, after I pierced her as punishment and carried her broken body out of that room.I slowly untangle my arm from beneath her. Her brow twitches, but she doesn’t wake. Not fully.I ease back, careful not to jostle her, and try to sit up.Her hand clamps down on my shirt.I look down.She’s awake.Barely.Her eyes are heavy. Lips