Semua Bab I Accidentally Married a Mafia Boss: Bab 31 - Bab 38

Soft golden designs appeared on the navy walls as a faint beam of early light filtered through the thin curtains. Aside from the soft ticking of the old wall clock and the faint singing of birds outside, the room was quiet. Izora opened her eyes and looked up at the weird ceiling above her. A faint ache pulsed through her abdomen, keeping her grounded in the present moment. Kaiser's head rested heavily on her abdomen, his dark hair tangled and reflecting the morning sun. She shifted a little, then realised what was causing the pressure.Her breath caught. Now looking calm and youthful, the notorious mafia king was laid across her midsection, his arm slung around her waist in a possessive manner. It was startling how different this week's mood was from his normal powerful appearance. Is this also a part of the act? With her fingers itching to glide through his hair, she contemplated. She cautiously reached out her hand, letting it hover just above his head while she felt the warmt

Izora was brushing her hair in quiet, distracted strokes, still caught on the way Kaiser had held her that morning. His cheek pressed warm to her stomach, his breath slow and uneven like he hadn’t slept deeply in years until then.He smiled. Not smirked. Not threatened. Not commanded.Smiled.And for the briefest moment, she’d seen him not the mafia prince, not the cold strategist, not the man who walked in shadows and spoke in knives but the boy buried somewhere beneath all of that. Just a man who had curled into her warmth as though it were home.She quickly pushed the memory out of her mind. That softness was a crack in his armor, not a door. And she knew better than to walk through it.The door creaked open, and the maids entered silently, moving like practiced clockwork with soft arms full of silks and lotions.“Dinner, Mrs. Eirian,” one of them murmured.Izora flinched at the title. It still felt like a lie sewn too tight across her chest.They held out a dress lilac with silver

The sirens didn’t blare. The alarms didn’t scream. But something was wrong. Kaiser sprinted through the corridor like a storm in a tailored suit. His coat flared behind him, boots thudding heavy against the marble floor. The manor, for all its vastness, had turned silent. Not quite silent. Like it was holding its breath. He passed a servant in the hallway. She froze at the look on his face. He didn’t stop. “Enoch,” he barked into the phone, “what’s your status?” Static. Then— “She’s safe. For now,” Enoch's low voice finally replied, breathless. “Intruder’s in the east wing. Two men down.” Kaiser’s knuckles whitened around the phone. “What do they want?” “They’re not speaking. They’re shooting. Trained. Fast.” Kaiser turned the corner sharply, passing a wall-length painting of his father’s estate in the north—an inheritance he’d never claimed. “Hold her room. I’m coming.” — **Izora’s Room** Izora crouched inside the narrow closet, breathing fast. The silk of her nightg

The room was too quiet. Too clean. Izora sat on the edge of the satin-sheeted bed, her hands trembling in her lap. Her fingers were stained dark—dried blood caught in the tiny lines of her skin. She’d scrubbed them raw at the bathroom sink, her nails bitten down and cracked, but the red hadn’t left. Not really. It clung to her memory. She could still see it. Blood, thick and too dark to be fresh, gathered on the polished marble floor in the hallway. It had seeped into the cuffs of her jeans and dotted the hem of her cream blouse. The moment unfolded like a gradual nightmare. A man screaming. A gunshot. A collapsing body. The sick, wet thud it made as it hit the ground. The smell was worse than the sight of iron, sweat, and fear. Izora’s breathing was shallow. Her eyes stared ahead, unfocused, as though still caught somewhere in that moment. The door creaked open. She didn’t react. Soft leather shoes tapped against the wood floor calm, measured, expensive. The scent of cologne