Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Mafia Stepbrothers Want Me?: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Nico:I cleaned my gun by muscle memory.Every click, every snap of the chamber, was just another way to keep my hands from doing what they really wanted to do—like punch Matteo’s teeth down his throat. Or slit Luca’s perfect jaw just deep enough to watch him bleed guilt onto polished marble.Not that I would.Not yet.But the thought soothed something in me.It was dangerous, the way silence sharpened inside these walls. The penthouse was dark—too dark—lit only by the low city glow bleeding in through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Outside, the skyline blinked like a thousand judgmental eyes. Inside, I simmered in it. In everything I hadn’t said. Everything I hadn’t done.I wanted to believe I didn’t care.God, I tried.But I’d seen her.Serena.Hair wild. Lips swollen. Skin flushed in ways I’d only ever drawn from memory—never from touch.And I’d seen them on her.Matteo’s fingerprints.Luca’s scent.The kind of marks that didn’t wash off in the morning.Proof that I was either too late…

NicoThey took her.I saw her disappear through the rusted threshold with men who thought they were gods because they held keys instead of crowns.And I did nothing.Not because I wouldn’t.Because I couldn’t.My body was a marionette of dead nerves and bruised muscle, strung together by rage and instinct. But rage wasn’t enough—not yet. Not when Dante still breathed and Serena still bled.I laid there, tasting blood and failure, watching the flickering light die with the echo of her steps.She looked back.Just once.And in that glance, I saw it.She wasn’t mine anymore.She wasn’t anyone’s.She was something worse.Free.And that scared me more than death.The room was a tomb.Stone walls. Iron door. No windows. No mercy.A place for forgotten things—monsters, secrets, men like me.But monsters don’t rot.We evolve.I peeled myself off the floor one inch at a time, every breath a scream behind clenched teeth. My shoulder dislocated. Ribs cracked. My jaw felt like Dante’s ring was st

Serena:The floor creaked when I moved. That was all it took.Nico’s eyes snapped to mine from where he leaned against the kitchen doorframe—shoulder bruised, shirt torn, blood still drying in a streak down his ribs. He hadn’t said a word since we got back. None of us had. The safehouse was too quiet. Like the silence that follows a bomb blast. Not peace. Just the space where grief and fury decided who got the final word.“I need to clean that,” I said.He didn’t move.Didn’t speak.Just watched.I crossed the room slowly, every step an invitation or a dare—I wasn’t sure which. My pulse thudded louder than the thunder had. My fingers curled around the first-aid kit, though it felt stupidly small in my hands, like trying to fix a hurricane with gauze.Still, I opened it.And finally, he spoke.“I’m fine.”I gave him a look that should’ve peeled paint off the walls. “You’re bleeding.”“I’ve bled worse.”“That’s not the point.”“Then what is it, princess?”My spine straightened. “The po

Serena:The first scream wasn’t a scream at all.It was a thud.A sickening, wet sound snapped through the trees like a bone cracking in the dark.Then—another. A grunt. A curse.And Nico’s voice, hoarse and furious—“Get the fuck off me!”I didn’t remember running.Just the blur of trees. The rasp of my breath. The way Luca and Matteo moved like shadows beside me, silent and lethal.But my pulse? Deafening.We broke through the brush just as the third man slammed his fist into Nico’s ribs. He hit the ground hard, face already bloody, his arms pinned behind him by two others.The Moretti crest glinted on one of their sleeves.“No!” I shouted, my voice ripping free before I could stop it.They didn’t look up.Didn’t stop.The one in front drew back again, knuckles bloodied.Nico spat at him. “You hit like a fucking girl.”The blow that followed knocked him sideways.My legs moved before my mind caught up.“Don’t,” Matteo snapped, reaching out to catch my arm—but I jerked away.I didn’t

SerenaI woke up wrapped in them.In heat. In weight. In breath.Nico’s fingers were still tangled in mine, his palm warm and calloused against my knuckles. Matteo’s arm was a heavy band across my waist, his body curved protectively around mine. And Luca—his presence was quieter, softer, but no less overwhelming. His leg brushed mine beneath the sheets, his steady breathing syncing with mine like we were some strange, steady machine.For one terrifying, beautiful moment, I let myself pretend this was real.That the world outside this bed didn’t exist. That I wasn’t the center of a storm that could blow all of this to pieces.But pretending only lasted so long.The vibration came first—deep and low, buzzing against the nightstand where Matteo’s burner phone lit up in the dark.All three of them stirred at once.Nico was the first to sit up, rubbing at his eyes before grabbing the phone. His jaw locked as he read the screen, the tension bleeding into the room like smoke.Matteo shifted