All Chapters of I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 The sour burn ripped up my throat before I even had a chance to breathe. I doubled over the toilet, my hair sticking to my damp cheeks as another wave of nausea wrung my body out like a rag. My knees ached against the cold tile, my chest heaving, stomach clenching until there was nothing left but bile and broken sobs spilling from me. A knock rattled the door, “Madeleine,” he called, his voice panicked, “Open the door.” The sound scraped against my raw nerves like sandpaper. I shut my eyes, my whole body felt hollowed out, but rage simmered under the weakness. “I’m fine,” I croaked, though my voice broke halfway through. I wasn’t fine. I was curled on the floor puking my guts out. Another knock, “You don’t sound fine. Let me in.” The toilet swam in my vision, blurred by tears I hated myself for crying. I gagged, spat, coughed until my throat felt raw. He hadn’t twisted me up so bad I couldn’t even tell which parts of my love for him had been rea

Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 I scanned the estate, searching for Flan. I hadn’t seen him since this morning. Heading to the living room, I found him curled up on the floor with Luna. “There you two are…” I murmured, crouching beside them. Alessia was already in the room, and Claire was perched on the couch, tense. The moment she spotted me, she let out a sharp sigh and started to rise. But Alessia moved first, her hand snapping toward Claire’s arm, “Stay.” Claire hesitated, caught mid-motion, and I could see the tension in her expression. “I’ll leave…” I said softly, scooping both cats into my arms, arms tightening around Flan and Luna as if holding onto them would make everything less tense. “No. You’re not going anywhere either,” Alessia said, her hand shot out toward me, palm up, “Come here.” I froze, staring at her hand. The cats squirmed slightly against me. Finally, I set Flan and Luna down on the floor, murmuring a soft, “Be good,” and stepped toward her. Alessia pulled b

Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 He had been on his best behavior for a week. Painfully good. It almost made me nervous, the way he was holding himself back like a wild animal pacing inside a cage. There were no late-night disappearances, no shady excuses or half-truths. After the “abortion” he had given me space, like he finally understood that breathing room wasn’t something I asked for, it was something I needed to survive. He hadn’t acted out once. He hadn’t cornered me, hadn’t tried to bulldoze over my decisions with that iron fist of his. For once, it felt like he was letting me steer the ship, even if it was barely staying afloat. When I told him I had another job interview, because I had lost the last job for not appearing when I was told, he didn’t even blink. He didn’t forbid it, didn’t shadow me with twenty men lurking outside the building. Just a driver, just… the minimum. A breadcrumb of normal life. And it was working on me. I felt myself softening when I shouldn’t have. B

Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ The sunlight knifing through the blinds pissed me off. I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows digging into my knees, head hanging low, heavy between my shoulders. My skin still carried her scent, vanilla and crushed flowers were the only thing keeping me from losing my grip. I swore to her. I said it out loud, with my whole chest, like a fucking lunatic standing in front of God. No more killing. A promise I had no business making. And now it was morning, and the promise sat in my skull like a bullet that hadn’t finished the job. I dragged a hand down my face. The stubble rasped against my palm. Madeleine doesn’t understand. She can’t. She thinks this life is a switch you can flip off. That blood is something you can politely decline, like a glass of wine at dinner. That I could just walk up to Vincenzo, shrug, and say, nah, not today, brother, I’m domesticated now, married, eating salads on rooftops instead of stacking bodies in alleys. She wants me to believe it

Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 I lay there wide awake, Adriano’s head heavy on my chest, his arms locked tight around my waist. His breath warmed my skin, unbothered. Mine wasn’t. Because I never asked for this, not any of it. I never asked to be cornered. To be tricked and stripped of every choice I thought was mine. To have my life rewritten while I stood there, stupidly believing I still had a say. All I wanted was to help a man who was dying. That was it. Just kindness. Just basic human decency. And somehow that one small act became a chain I can’t slip out of. My hand slid into his hair, those thick dark strands tangling around my fingers. It was instinct, habit, love, I do love him. God, I wish I didn’t, but I do. And that’s the part that hurts the most. Because loving him doesn’t erase the truth. I’m not the kind of person who can just shut their eyes and sleep while someone dies before my eyes. I’m not built like that. I carry it with me, the image of their face, the w