Todos los capítulos de Sold To The Mafia Lord: Capítulo 131 - Capítulo 140

The quiet of the Moretti estate pressed in around Emilia like a suffocating cloak.She hadn’t moved from the chair by the window for a long time after Matteo left. His footsteps had faded down the hall, but the air still trembled with the choice he hadn’t made. He could have taken her. He could have followed whatever order had been given to him. Instead, he’d walked away, leaving her with the hollow, unsettling ache of a wound she couldn’t see.Emilia’s chest tightened. Betrayal cut differently when it came from someone who had sat across from you at meals, someone who had stood guard outside your door through long nights, someone who had felt almost… safe. She hadn’t been foolish enough to call Matteo a friend, friendship wasn’t a currency the Moretti world allowed easily, but there had been a fragile kind of trust between them. And tonight, it had splintered.She rose finally, exhaustion weighing down her limbs. The gown she still wore clung uncomfortably, the silk cool against her o

The city was asleep by the time Lucien Moretti and Julio slipped out of Lucien study . The air was cold, tinged with smoke from the cigarette the men burned all night, and the house were empty except for the pacing of the men guarding the estate.Julio tugged at his jacket as he fell in step with Lucien. Both men were bone tired, their shoulders heavy with the hours of strategy, bargaining, and veiled threats that had stretched into the early morning. Yet despite the exhaustion, there was no easing in the sharp set of Lucien’s jaw.They walked out without speaking. Lucien pace slows, eyes narrowed toward the dark windows and the corridors. Julio, watching him, could feel the weight of what was unspoken pressing between them.Finally, Lucien broke it.“She didn’t want to come tonight.” His voice was low, rough with fatigue and something deeper, worry.Julio straightened, sensing the turn of the conversation. “Emilia?”Lucien’s gaze flicked toward him, cold and sharp, but then drifted ba

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, brushing pale gold across the room. Emilia stirred, eyelids heavy, the lingering warmth of Lucien’s body pressed against her back a tether she didn’t want to release. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe, to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the long night, grounding her in a way she hadn’t realized she’d craved.Then the reality of her secret coiled in her chest, tightening with every heartbeat.Lucien shifted beside her, his arm tightening instinctively around her waist, pulling her closer. “You’re awake,” he murmured, low and intimate, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile calm of the morning.“I am,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.His lips brushed against her temple, then lingered along the curve of her cheek. “You slept well?”Emilia hesitated. The question was simple, ordinary, but the weight behind it made her stomach twist. She wanted to lie, to say yes and bask in the safety of

The next morning, she wore serenity like a mask.At breakfast, Emilia sat perfectly composed at the long breakfast table, porcelain cup in hand, its rim brushing her lips though she barely tasted the coffee. She nodded when addressed, smiled faintly when Lucien brushed her hand across the table, even reached for her cup of tea with the grace expected of his queen. To anyone looking, she was the picture of calm.But inside, her mind was a storm. A battlefield.Pier 17.The words branded themselves against her skull.Two words. Two coordinates that split her chest open with dread and temptation.How did one reach it? She couldn’t ask Lucien, not without unraveling everything. She couldn’t ask his men either; they would report to him in an instant. Every face in the compound seemed like a wall, hemming her in, keeping her secret pressed like a shard of glass against her ribs.The burner phone, tucked into the hidden pocket of her sleeve, weighed heavier than gold. Heavier than sin.The da

Morning came dressed in gold, but to Emilia, it felt like chains. The sunlight spilling through the tall windows mocked her serenity, reminding her how every moment now was borrowed, how every smile was a mask.At breakfast, Lucien sat across from her, black suit tailored to perfection, the kind of man who could silence a room with a look. He hadn’t spoken much, but his eyes had lingered on her too long, sharp as blades, unreadable as smoke. Every time she lifted her teacup, she felt the weight of his gaze drag across her skin, as though he knew she was hiding something.She forced a faint smile, playing her part. She let his hand brush hers across the table, answering softly when addressed, serene as the queen he’d shaped her to be. But inside, her thoughts were a storm.Pier 17. Alone.The message from the burner phone pulsed in her mind like a heartbeat, echoing louder with every passing second.She held her breath when his thumb stroked her knuckles. He leaned close, murmuring, “Yo