บททั้งหมดของ TO LOVE A MONSTER : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

The morning light streamed through the tall windows of the De Luca dining room, catching the edge of crystal glasses and the polished surface of the table. The air was thick with the rich scent of espresso, warm bread, and the quiet expectations of a powerful family.Alessio sat at his usual place, dressed in a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His tie hung loose around his neck, and though he lifted his fork and took bites of his food, he barely tasted any of it.Across from him, Isabella watched him in silence for a moment. Her long, dark hair spilled over one shoulder, and her manicured fingers toyed absently with the rim of her coffee cup.“You’ve been awfully quiet this morning,” she said lightly, her voice laced with a sweetness that felt carefully measured. “Didn’t sleep well?”Alessio glanced up at her. Their eyes met for a beat too long before he forced a polite, tight lipped smile.“I’m fine,” he said. “Just a long night. Business matters.”Isabella arched a brow, c

It wasn’t the kind of view you’d find in the expensive lounges or penthouses they both knew too well, it was rougher, quieter, the kind of place no one bothered to look.A forgotten rooftop on the outskirts of town. Unassuming. Discreet.And for tonight, it was theirs.Alessio leaned against the low wall at the edge of the roof, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as the wind teased through his dark hair. He wasn’t dressed like a don’s heir tonight. No tailored suit. No polished shoes. Just dark jeans, a black sweater, and the kind of exhaustion that came from pretending too long.He checked his watch.11:47 p.m.He’d sent the message earlier, his words brief but unmistakable.“Come find me. I need you.”No location shared, no address. Rafael would know where.And sure enough, a minute later, footsteps echoed softly against the worn concrete. Alessio didn’t have to turn to know it was him.A pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him in close. The sce

The tension of their conversation hung heavy between them. Alessio’s pulse still thundered in his ears, the words they’d just traded settling like lead in his chest. He hadn’t planned to come here angry. Hell, he hadn’t even planned to come here at all.But the thought of Rafael walking headfirst into a trap, of his father putting a bullet between those familiar, reckless eyes, made something unbearable twist inside him.Alessio stepped back, breaking the grip Rafael had on his jacket. “I mean it, Rafael,” he said quietly, his voice raw from everything unspoken. “If you’re not careful, they’ll come for you. And I won’t be able to stop it.”Rafael’s gaze searched his face, something softer, sadder flickering in the depths of his dark eyes. “Would you even want to stop it?” he asked, a bitter edge in his voice.Alessio’s throat tightened. “Don’t ask me that.”“I need to know,” Rafael insisted, his hand catching Alessio’s wrist, the grip firm but not rough. “If it came down to it… if it

Lucia Romano hadn’t wanted to come home.But when your father was Don Salvatore Romano, one of the most ruthless and respected mafia dons in the country, saying no wasn’t an option. She’d known, deep down, what awaited her the moment she stepped off that plane. An arranged marriage. A merger disguised as a wedding. A cage gilded in power and expectation.But she hadn’t thought it would happen so fast.She woke up in her old room, one that hadn’t changed since she was sixteen. Still soft cream walls, still those heavy silk curtains, still that view overlooking the courtyard where the Romano men trained every morning.Lucia stretched, her body sluggish with jet lag, and moved to the window out of habit.And promptly froze.There, shirtless and glistening in the morning sun, was the man from yesterday. The one she’d had a messy, embarrassing misunderstanding with in town when he nearly ran into her car and then called her a reckless driver. She hadn’t known who he was then.She did now.

The De Luca estate felt suffocating.Alessio sat at the long dining table, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against his glass of water as conversations blurred around him. Isabella was radiant, glowing with excitement as she discussed floral arrangements and guest lists with Mrs DeLuca. The household was buzzing with wedding talk, dates, colors, photographers.And Alessio… was barely holding it together.Nico, seated across from him, hadn’t taken his eyes off his older brother since they sat down. He watched every fidget, every tight jaw clench, every hollow stare into his drink.Something’s wrong. Something big.“You okay, brother?” Nico finally asked, his voice light but his gaze sharp.Alessio forced a smirk. “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind.”“Right. Must be the wedding.”The words were harmless, but there was something pointed in the way Nico said them. Alessio didn’t respond.Isabella, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents at the table, reached for Alessio’s arm. “I was think