Todos los capítulos de Sold To The Mafia Lord: Capítulo 121 - Capítulo 130

Lucien didn’t move at first.The heat of Emilia’s body was still on him, her breath still warm against his ear, but the words… the words burned through the haze like acid.I know the mole.For one suspended heartbeat, he didn’t know whether to freeze or finish. Instinct and weeks of denied hunger won, his body shuddered in release, his grip on her hips almost bruising, but his mind had already shifted into a different, colder place.When he finally drew back enough to see her face, his voice was low, tight.“Say it again.”“I know the mole,” Emilia said, meeting his gaze without flinching.“Who?”Her answer was a whisper, but it hit him like a bullet.“Matteo.”For a second, the name didn’t fit in his head. Matteo, one of his top men, the one just beneath Julio in rank, the one who’d been in the room for some of the most sensitive decisions they’d made.Not the same trust as Julio, never that deep, but enough that Lucien had let him close. He even had him protecting Emilia. His expre

The sunlight in the Moretti estate was different in the mornings, softer, but still touched with the kind of sharp clarity Emilia had learned to notice in this house.Even here, shadows meant something.Lucien sat at the head of the small round table in his private study, a mug of untouched coffee in front of him, one hand resting lightly against his jaw. He wasn’t brooding, not exactly, but watching. Watching her. Watching everything.Emilia slid a folder across the polished wood toward him. “This is what I’ve found so far.”Lucien didn’t reach for it immediately, only let his eyes lower to the folder, then lift back to her. She didn’t flinch.Julio, leaning against the wall to Lucien’s right, shifted slightly. He’d been quiet since stepping into the room, his focus darting between the two of them like he was adjusting to the new… atmosphere.Lucien finally opened the folder.Inside, printouts of phone records, transcriptions, and Emilia’s own notes in sharp, neat handwriting.“I star

The first thing Kira noticed when she opened the door was that Julio wasn’t wearing his usual armor of smooth charm. He stood in the dim light of the hallway, rainwater still clinging to his coat, shadows pooling under his eyes like secrets that hadn’t slept in weeks.She stepped back without a word, letting him in. He didn’t wait for an invitation, brushing past her in that quiet, dangerous way of his, a storm contained only by sheer will. The apartment was warm, she always kept it warm, but his presence shifted the temperature, brought with it a current of tension that had nothing to do with the weather.Kira shut the door, her gaze tracing the deliberate slowness in his movements. He didn’t speak immediately, just stood there, scanning the space as if searching for something invisible.“You’re late,” she said finally, her voice a blade coated in velvet.He turned his head toward her, and that single glance was enough to remind her exactly who he was, the man people crossed streets t

The clock on the wall had ticked past midnight.The house was quiet in that deep, insulated way that made every small sound seem louder, the distant hum of the refrigerator, the soft creak of the couch whenever she shifted, the whisper of her own breath.Emilia sat curled in the corner of the sofa, one leg tucked beneath her, a throw blanket pooled over her lap. A book lay open on the coffee table in front of her, but the words hadn’t held her attention for the last hour. The tea beside it had gone lukewarm.She was waiting.She told herself she wasn’t keeping track of the time, but her gaze kept drifting toward the clock. Every slow sweep of the second hand tugged at something in her chest. It wasn’t worry, not exactly. Lucien had been gone late before. But tonight… she wanted to see him. She wanted him to see her waiting.It had been days since the last conversation about Matteo, about the mole who thought he was playing in shadows. Emilia knew better now; shadows could be crowded, d

The night was silent, but not still.Lucien could feel it, the kind of silence that came before blood spilled, when the air was taut with waiting and death crouched in the shadows. He stood at the edge of the dirt road, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, his men crouched in the dark brush around him. Julio shifted beside him, checking the chamber of his gun with a low click.“They’ll come,” Julio muttered, eyes sweeping the horizon.Lucien exhaled smoke, slow and unhurried. “If the rat passed the message along, they’ll come running like dogs.”The headlights arrived first, a blinding beam cutting through the rural blackness. An SUV convoy rolled into view, dust kicking up behind their tires. Engines rumbled low, confident. Too confident. They slowed near the clearing, right where Lucien had positioned his men.Doors swung open. Dark figures poured out, weapons slung and ready. One of them barked, “Check the perimeter. The shipment should be close.”Lucien’s mouth curved. The