All Chapters of The Mafia King's Only Love: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

CASSANDRA'S POV~I don’t remember much of the ride.Just the pounding in my head… the heat crawling beneath my skin like fire ants, and Adriano’s scent wrapped around me as he carried me. He didn’t let go—not for a single second. Not even when his men tried to take over. He held me like I was made of glass.He should’ve taken me home. That was the plan. But our estate was still far and I was getting worse. I could barely breathe—every breath felt unbearable.By the time he kicked open the hotel room door and stepped in with me in his arms, I was barely conscious. But I heard his voice—sharp, commanding.“Get the doctor. Now. And don’t come back until I say so.”His men scattered instantly, boots thudding as they fled the room, shutting the door behind them.And then… it was just us.Me, writhing on the bed, skin slick with sweat. And Adriano, who looked like he was one second away from losing his mind.He knelt beside me, grabbing a towel, pressing it to my forehead. “Fuck… you’re bur

EDEN'S POV~The nerve of her. I stood there, watching the hospital doors slam behind me like some stray dog being thrown out, and Cassandra didn’t even have the decency to look at me. Nothing. Not a second of hesitation. I’d been the one who made her, who shaped her world, and this was how she repaid me? She tossed me out like some piece of garbage, without a shred of gratitude.She couldn’t have forgotten me that easily. She just didn’t know what she wanted yet. But I wouldn’t let her go that easily. She was mine. I had invested too much to just let her slip away without a fight.My chest tightened with frustration. My fists clenched so tightly that blood trickled from the jagged edges of my nails. Good. Let the pain remind me of who I was. A reminder that I didn’t need even her—to survive.I turned on my heel and stormed toward my car, my mind racing. She had to be playing some game, right? She had to be testing me. But I knew her too well. She always needed to test boundaries. T

CASSANDRA'S POV~The moment I shut Adriano’s door behind me, it felt like I was locking myself out of something I didn’t even know I needed until now.My steps faltered, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag as the echo of his voice—so cold, so wounded—rattled in my ears. The look on his face when I said those words… God, I wish I could take them back. I wish I could rewind time and stop my own mouth from moving.But I didn’t go back.I couldn’t.I just walked faster, like creating distance between us would somehow protect me from the damage I’d already done. My chest ached with every step, and my vision blurred with the sting of tears that I fought tooth and nail to hold back. I wouldn’t cry here. I wouldn’t let them see me break.The guards bowed their heads politely as I passed. I smiled—or tried to. It came out crooked and pitiful, like my lips had forgotten how to stretch without trembling. The driver opened the SUV door, and I almost told him not to bother. I wanted t

CASSANDRA'S POV~Just as I was about to turn and leave, a loud, unexpected burst of laughter exploded behind me. I froze for a second, blinking in pure surprise. Was he... laughing?Slowly, I turned my head to see Dario clutching his side, trying—and failing—to contain himself. His blond hair was a wild mess against the crisp white pillow, and his green eyes gleamed mischievously even as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.I arched a brow, my patience thinning by the second, but I said nothing. I simply stood there, watching him like he was some curious animal at the zoo.Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he hummed low in his throat and let out a satisfied sigh. Still chuckling lightly, he shook his head and said, "You are... refreshing, you know that?"I blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his voice."Most people," he continued, his lips still curled in amusement, "don't dare talk to me like that. Especially not here. Not in a country where even the air tr

ADRIANO'S POV~The city of Antwerp looked like a jewel box scattered open under the pale sunlight. Glass skyscrapers sparkled against the horizon, trimmed with gold and steel like a high-society necklace. I should’ve been impressed. I wasn’t. I sat at the head of a long, obsidian conference table in the penthouse of a luxury business tower—my tower. One floor below my diamond refinery, where billions worth of stones were processed every year. The room stank of money. Of ambition. Of suits with soft hands pretending they’d ever held power. A sleek woman in a fitted navy pantsuit stood beside the massive projector screen, tapping her laser pointer against an illuminated chart filled with graphs and numbers. “…and if we tap into Sierra Leone’s underutilized supply routes, we can increase exports by twelve percent while keeping taxation under the radar,” she explained in her best ‘please take me seriously’ voice. The room was a roundtable of European, Russian, and African diamond entr