Semua Bab Mafia Bride: From Pawn to Rebel Queen : Bab 11 - Bab 20

"Why are you sad Elena, Do you need someone to talk to? You can talk to your brother if you want."Dominic's voice is barely above a whisper as he slides a small phone across the marble counter of the kitchen. The device looks ancient compared to the smartphones I'm used to basic, untraceable. The kind criminals use when they don't want to be found.My fingers hover over it like it might bite me. "Luca will—""Luca's in Rome until tomorrow night." Dominic's dark eyes are serious, urgent. "This is your window, Mrs. Valenti. Alessandro's been trying to reach you for weeks."The kitchen is empty except for us. Even the staff have learned to make themselves scarce when I'm around, like my Romano bloodline might be contagious. The afternoon light streams through tall windows, casting long shadows across the pristine white surfaces."I can’t just figured why you keep on helping me any chance you have?" The question I've been afraid to ask finally spills out. "What do you get out of this?"H

The bruise on my wrist had faded to a sickly yellow-green, but I could still feel Luca's fingers there. Just yesterday since I'd locked myself in the guest room. But seeing him pretending nothing happened yesterday.I traced the mark absently, staring out the breakfast room window. The Mediterranean stretched endlessly blue, mocking me with its freedom."You're not eating."Luca's voice cut through my thoughts. He sat across from me, perfectly composed in his charcoal suit, newspaper folded beside his untouched espresso. Like he hadn't tried to—I pushed the thought away and reached for my coffee cup. My hand trembled slightly."I'm fine.""Are you?"The question hung between us, loaded with meanings neither of us would voice. His dark eyes studied me with that calculating intensity that made my skin crawl. Or maybe that was something else entirely. I hated that I couldn't tell the difference anymore.Then i feel a little vibration in my little purse, a phone buzzed against my thighs

~ Next Morning ~"You're pathetic." Luca's voice cuts through the silence like a blade. "Sitting there like some tragic heroine. What did you think this was, Elena? A fairy tale?"I didn’t look up from the vanity mirror. My reflection stares back—hollow cheeks, dark circles that makeup can't hide anymore. Just yesterday since I heard Luca conversation with his uncle. Yesterday of find out Matteo is looking for my brother."I thought this was a marriage." The words taste bitter. "Silly me."His footsteps echo across the marble floor. Getting closer. My shoulders tense, but I keep my hands steady as I reach for the lipstick. Ruby red. The color of lies we tell at dinner parties."Marriage." He laughs, low and cruel. "Is that what you call this arrangement where you flinch every time I touch you?""Maybe because every time you touch me, it's to hurt me."The silence stretches between us. I can feel him behind me now, his presence like a storm cloud ready to break. His reflection appears

"Don't mistake duty for devotion, child. It never ends well."Marcella's words echo in my head hours later as I lie staring at the ceiling. The dinner ended without bloodshed, which in this family counts as a victory. But sleep refuses to come. Every time I close my eyes, I see Matteo's calculating smile, hear the undercurrent of threat in his seemingly innocent questions.The clock on the nightstand reads 2:17 AM. Luca never came to my bed, not that I expected him to. After his performance just yesterday, I'm surprised he even bothers maintaining the pretense of sharing a room.My throat is dry as sandpaper. The wine from dinner sits heavy in my stomach, but it's thirst that finally drives me from the bed. I slip on the silk robe draped over the chair and pad barefoot toward the door.The hallway is dark, lit only by strips of moonlight filtering through tall windows. My footsteps are silent on the marble floor as I make my way toward the kitchen. This house feels different at night,

~ few days later ~“Everyday one dinner to the other, am getting tired already. I whispered to Luca.He didn’t even utter a single word as he dragged me downstairs for the dinner. The Rosselini dinner was supposed to be routine business.I sat beside Luca at the mahogany table, the tracking necklace heavy against my throat—a constant reminder of Marcella's surveillance. But I'd learned to use it. Let her listen. Let her think she had control.Sometimes the best weapon was the one your enemy thought they held."The shipping routes through Naples need restructuring," Rosselini was saying, his thick fingers wrapped around a wine glass. "Too much attention from the authorities."Luca nodded, but I caught the slight tension in his shoulders. He didn't trust Rosselini completely. Smart man."I would begin teaching my wife our legitimate shipping concerns," Luca said smoothly. "Perhaps you could discuss the details with her."I looked at him shocked, speechless. Don’t even know what to say.