All Chapters of The Mafia's Willing Prey: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-ONE ••Flashback- A Week Ago•• Alessandro sat bare chested, had an unshaved beard and a disheveled hair. His men—Luciano, Sergei, Marco and Nicholas stood close by, each of them to one corner while the doctor they summoned stood beside Alessandro with a box filled with medical equipments. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sergei asked. “I can do a double check on the plan, make sure it's a smooth one.” “It is,” Alessandro affirmed, bending his neck for the doctor to insert the tracker. “So what if something happens? What if she has joined forces with them and it's only a trap? What then?” Nicholas questioned. “Something is definitely going to happen. That's why we're planning ahead. We take them by surprise… they wouldn't even realize it,” Alessandro stated while trying to mask off the pain radiating from him. “I'm willing to get into whatever Alexei had planned, if it means that I have to see her one last time. I can take a million punches and bullets if

ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-THREEAlessandro pulled against the restraints, but it only made his wrists feel even more sore. His head throbbed from the blow he received the previous day, blood dried at his temple, but his eyes held no emotions—only cold and murderous.He stilled for a moment when he heard a gunshot.Relaxing into his confined state, a smile managed to find it's way to his lips.They were here.The only reason why he came to Russia, let himself get tied up in a basement was for Isabelle. He needed to prove to her that he was willing to go to any length to show her how much pain he was willing to bear for her, even if it made his opponent think he was weak.He wasn't weak. He didn't train all day and night to be a weak man.But for his wife, he'll get tied up. Only for her.He heard movements and when the door swung open.It wasn't Marco or any of his men.It wasn't a Bratva soldier either.It was his wife—Isabelle.Her chest rose and fell rapidly, fear and determination bo

ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIVE “How long?” “You've been unconscious for three weeks and approximately three days,” the doctor answered, writing something down on the clipboard he had in his hands. “You're lucky, you know. Most people end up in a coma for a month or more… and some die, but you're alive, that counts for something.” Three weeks! She wanted to stand but couldn't, her entire body felt weak. Hearing that there was a probability she wouldn't have survived caused goosebumps to rise on her skin. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for him but he was nowhere to be found. “Doctor, where's my hus— where's the Don please? Alessandro Moretti.” “He left.” “What?” “No… don't you worry. You’ve got another special visitor.” She shouldn't worry? She didn't want anyone else. She needed to see him. “He… he hasn't been here?” “He has. In fact, he got you all the flowers you're looking at. He brought one every single day for three weeks. We had to take some out. It wouldn't

ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVEN “A new look, a new me,” she announced to no one but herself as she stood before the mirror with a straightener in her hand. She couldn't believe it. She was really going on a date with a guy named Derek. It was weird going out with a normal guy, but sometimes normal guys could be nice. Right? When she was done straightening her hair, she applied a little make-up before settling for a black skimpy dress that went really well with black fishnet tights. She ran a red lip gloss over her lips, raised her hand to her hair, smoothening her new bangs. Approaching the mirror, she stopped, looking down at herself. “Maybe, this is too short for a first date,” she muttered, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I should probably—” A knock came at the door. There was no time to make any last minute decisions since Derek was here, so she grabbed a mini red purse, heading for the door. Taking a deep breath twice, she opened the door to meet a smiling Derek who held

ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-NINE “I'm dripping all over your car,” Isabelle announced, covering her face with her palm. “It’s our car and that's one of the reasons why I wanted to drive you,” he responded, eyes on the road. “You didn't even give me time to explian to Derek, he'll think the worst of me now. What sort of woman am I? I went on a date with a guy and I made out with someone else.” His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, “I don't care what he thinks. He's not good for you. Now, he knows that.” “He was actually nice to me,” she informed him. “Isabelle… do you want him to die?” He asked, his expression grim. “What?… wait … what are you?... Don't tell me you want to kill him.” “I would, if you keep talking about him like that.” She kept mute, her eyes squeezing shut even tighter, as if to block out the reality of what they just did. And the fact that she enjoyed it. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed they weren't heading to her apartment. “Where are we go