Todos os capítulos de Falling For Her Mafia Captor: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Violet's PovI had always dreamed of being a princess.Today, I was dressed like one.I twirled in front of the full-length mirror, watching my ball gown shimmer under the chandelier lights. The soft blue hue complimented my porcelain skin and the lace along the neckline of the dress made me feel elegant. I looked every inch a royalty — the kind of life Papa had made sure I had. It felt surreal but not as much as turning 20 years old today.Turning 20 marked a new decade of my life,The start of adulthood. I had planned this night for months from the floral arrangements to the champagnes I had imported from Italy. I made it a priority that my 20th birthday would be a grand celebration — Our estate would be filled with music and the laughter of the people who are part of our family and the world papa had built. I told myself it would be epic. I was all smiles that evening until —Papa — Roberto Fernandez was not the affectionate kind.He wasn't wicked or remotely cruel. But he'd a

Violet's PovTranquil and chill ran through me, the floor, cold and smooth against my skin.I recognized the make of the floor immediately — Marble.I blinked against the dim lights like I had done the first time I woke up here — my vision was hazy and my body was stiff. Was I drugged?I realized I had been lying on the hard floor. I tried to sit up but my wrists ached. I was still tied up. A sharp tug had confirmed it. I scanned my surroundings, my head pounding like someone hammer to my skull. I wasn't in the dimly lit room. This time, I was in a grand room. The windows were quite tall and covered with heavy-looking curtains. There was a massive desk in the center with papers stacked on one side. Several bookshelves lined the wall, the expensive artwork hanging between them.My location became clear to me.I was not in a warehouse or a dungeon.I was in someone's freaking study.And that someone was —“You're awake. Finally.” The voice sent a chill down my spine — smooth,

The Secret That Ticks In sharp contrast to the lavish chaos that characterised the rest of the Romano estate, the quiet in Violet's designated quarters was a heavy, clinging thing. The furnishings were simple and practical, providing little comfort or diversion, and the air was thin, almost brittle. On one wall was a narrow bed covered with a rough blanket of grey wool. On the other side was a plain wooden table with a basin of water that had long since become tepid and a broken ceramic pitcher. The courtyard below, where shadows danced with the constant threat of unseen eyes, was visible through a single, plain window, its glass thick and slightly distorted. Violet moved with a quiet urgency, the door left unguarded, the bolt slender against the weight of the secrets contained within these walls. She reached inside the folds of her old dress with thin, surprisingly strong fingers and took out the forbidden treasure. Her dad's watch. It was a tarnished silver watch worn smoot

The Shadow Is Back Violet lived in a self-imposed bubble of concentration, her whole being engrossed in the complex dance of symbols and numbers on the delicate paper. The distorted window's dim light created long, dancing shadows on her room's bare walls, but she didn't notice them because her attention was focused only on the small grid and the shards of her father's message that were beginning to form. The urgent whisper from the past that she was holding in her hands overshadowed the outside world, the oppressive silence of the Romano estate, and the constant threat of unseen eyes. She wasn't aware of the nearly imperceptible change in the room's atmosphere because she was so focused on the delicate task of decipherment, the subtle movements of her fingers as she traced the lines, and the silent recitation of the code's rules echoing in her mind. The faint sound of the door hinges creaking could be mistaken for the old building's settling. The nearly soundless motion of the

A Moment of Lost Innocence In Violet's memory, the sun-drenched garden blossomed, a vivid tapestry of colour and fragrance that stood in sharp contrast to the gloomy, oppressive reality that now surrounded her. It was a haven of warmth and laughter, where the sweet scent of roses ascended the worn stone walls and the soft buzz of bees filled the air. With her hair in a cascade of dark curls, young Violet joyfully chased butterflies while her laughter reverberated throughout the peaceful room. As he demonstrated to her the complex designs of the "dancing letters,"the cypher that was now a perilous key to a past she hardly comprehended, her father knelt next to a bed of vivid lavender, his powerful hands gently guiding hers. With his eyes sparkling with laughter, he spun stories about daring spies and secret messages, presenting it as a game, a shared secret language. As he described the numerical values and the directional shifts, his normally deep, reassuring rumble was softened