Semua Bab Entangled With My Ex's Mafia Father: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Hawthorne sat alone in his study. It was way past midnight and he wasn't asleep. He wasn't working either, at least not in the conventional sense of working. The room was dark except for the candlelight which was flickering, casting long shadows on the walls. The room, usually his sanctuary, the place he had taught his daughter all she needed to know, now felt like a prison of grief and rage. He could still see her walking through the large door which creaked slightly everytime it was opened. She’d walk right in after every mission, her face a plaster of professionalism. Whispers were going around that she was going to lead the family business after her him and there were some tensions in the house. Her death had shattered him. His brilliant, strong, fearless daughter was gone, and she had left a void no-one could fill. His only son, Pedro, was in jail, serving time for sending a man to coma. Pedro was not useful to him in a way. He was just the son who spent his father's money. He ha

SCARLETT“Don’t scare the young girl.”The voice cut through the tension like a blade.I turned.Adrian Moretti.He moved like he owned the air itself—measured, calm, but laced with quiet warning. His black suit was crisp, collar open like he didn’t give a damn about protocol, only power.Vincent sighed, then raised his hand lazily, fingers twitching toward his guard. I caught the motion. A silent signal to draw a weapon. Kill me.Right there. In front of everyone.But Adrian stepped between us before the trigger could even be teased.“Vincent,” he said smoothly, not raising his voice, “people are watching. And let’s not forget, this gala is for everyone. Don’t spill blood on the velvet.”Vincent’s eyes lingered on mine. Cold. Calculating.Then he turned without a word and walked away, his entourage dissolving into the shadows behind him. Like wolves slinking off to wait for the next opening.Just like that, the gala resumed.Fake smiles returned. Champagne clinked. Someone laughed to

SCARLETT“Put me down!” I shouted, pounding my fists against his back, but Adrian didn’t flinch. Not once.He kicked the door open with one smooth motion, walked into the room like he owned the goddamn world—and me—and dropped me onto the bed.“You’re insane,” I spat, scrambling up.Adrian stood there, calm as ever, loosening his tie like he hadn’t just manhandled me into a locked room. “A night should never feel this long with me?” he repeated, brows raised. “Interesting way to beg for more.”“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” I snapped.He shrugged, flicking open the top button of his shirt. “Then say what you mean next time. Clarity is sexy.”I lunged for the door, but he beat me there, hand on the knob. His other hand reached behind him to lock it with a click.“Adrian, don’t do this.”“I’m not doing anything,” he said, voice low. “You’re the one playing games.”I grabbed the vase from the side table and smashed it on the ground between us. The sound of shattering glass fi

That night, the Moretti estate didn’t sleep. The chandeliers were still glowing past midnight. The air smelled of burnt tobacco, gun oil, and spilled brandy. Adrian was in the drawing room—his sanctuary turned battlefield—shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, knuckles bruised. An untouched steak bled onto fine china. He hadn’t touched it. Couldn’t. Not when his entire empire was searching, but no one had answers.The glass in his hand trembled slightly, not from fear—he didn’t know fear—but from restraint. Barely contained fury. Another one of his men stepped in, face drawn.“We checked every checkpoint between here and the coast,” the man reported, voice low, wary. “Nothing. No sighting. Not even a whisper.”Adrian downed his drink, eyes vacant.“We bribed a few customs officers. Still nothing,” another said, entering. “It’s like she vanished.”The silence thickened. Then—CRASH.Adrian hurled the tumbler against the marble column. It shattered, spraying glass and whiskey across the f

Tony hesitated in the doorway of Adrian’s study, voice low. “Sir, if we harm Kira, Marco will come for retribution. He’s dangerous in his own right, and it could ruin your reputation, not now that you are friends with the president. This could ruin everything you have been working for.”Adrian didn’t turn from the window. His silhouette was rigid, features set like chiseled stone against the moonlight. “Do I look like I care?” His tone was flat, almost amused.Tony swallowed. “We need her alive to find Scarlett.”Adrian’s shoulders squared. He spun, twin embers of fury and something darker in his eyes. “Bring Kira to me. Alive. And bring Scarlett, too.” He paused, as though savoring the moment. “If you can’t find Scarlett just bring me Kira.” With that, he flicked a hand, dismissing Tony, and returned to the window.——The Mercedes coasted to a halt outside Kira Alvarez’s penthouse. Two black SUVs flanked it. The valet, accustomed to discreet arrivals, nodded as Tony’s team emerged—le