All Chapters of My Mafia Stepbrothers Want Me?: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

39:58:42 — Safehouse | Inner City Grid, Unknown LocationWe didn’t say it aloud, but we were grateful to hear traffic again.City noise. Sirens in the distance. Neon bleeding through rusted blinds. A neighbor’s bad music pulsing through walls that hadn't been patched in years.It wasn’t home, not really. But it was far enough from Umbra, and that made it close enough.Matteo was the first through the door, shoulder pressed to the frame like he expected it to explode. Luca checked the corners before he even blinked. I just stood still, breathing it in — that musty, metallic city air. Oil. Rain. Warm dust.This place had been prepped months ago. Just in case. Different IDs. Clean clothes. Weapons. A freezer full of things none of us trusted enough to touch.But the water worked. The locks held. And for the first time in three days, no one was chasing us.No orders.No guns.Just... this.We’d made it out of Berlin with half a file, a name that shouldn’t exist, and each other.I should’v

The air between the four of us was a live wire, humming with the kind of electricity that could set the whole place alight.Luca’s gaze snapped to Matteo, a silent warning that would’ve sent most men stepping back. Matteo didn’t blink. His stance was casual—shoulders loose, one hand still fixing the buttons on his shirt—but his eyes never left his brother’s face.“Not your call,” Luca said, voice low but edged like a blade.“It is now.” Matteo’s tone was calm, but there was a bite under it. The kind that said he’d already made his decision and nothing was going to shake it loose. “If Umbra’s using her father, we don’t sit here playing ghost stories while they get further ahead.”I felt them both looking at me, like I was the ground they were fighting over. And maybe I was. It wasn’t the first time I’d been caught between them—sometimes willingly, sometimes not—but this was different. This wasn’t about who got their way. This was about who got to protect me.“Matteo,” Luca’s jaw flexed

Serena:The rain outside had gone from steady to punishing, hammering against the broken glass like it wanted in. The room smelled of rust and old fire, the kind of scent that never really left.“Stay with me,” Luca said again, his eyes locked on the street below.Matteo shifted beside me, a slow, deliberate movement that made the air between them heavier. “She’s already with me.”I was two seconds from snapping at them both when Luca’s voice went razor-sharp. “Movement—three o’clock.”I moved to the edge of the window, ignoring both of them. Two figures in dark raincoats were making their way up the opposite street, heads low against the downpour. Their pace was too measured.“Umbra?” I whispered.Luca didn’t answer. His body told me enough—every line of him coiled and ready. He tapped twice on the sill, a signal for silence.Matteo’s hand brushed mine as he passed me his sidearm. “Just in case,” he mouthed.I took it, the cold metal grounding me in the middle of the storm that was a

Serena:The apartment smelled of blood, antiseptic, and wet concrete. I hadn’t realized how much the safehouse had shielded us from the outside world until now. Out here, every siren, every distant engine, sounded like a threat—like Umbra could be anywhere.Matteo stirred beside me, groaning softly. His hand still found mine, but his grip was weaker than before. I tightened it instinctively, like holding on could keep him alive.“I hate that you two argue more with each other than with them,” I muttered, leaning back against the couch. My voice was quieter than I intended, but both men turned sharply anyway.“Not arguing,” Luca said, jaw tight. “Strategizing.”“Right. Strategizing how to drive me insane,” I countered, glancing at Matteo, who smirked despite the blood.“You wound me,” he whispered, and it made my stomach twist—not in humor, but in something else I couldn’t name.Luca’s eyes flicked between us, sharp and unreadable, before he turned to the window, pulling the blinds jus

Serena:The silence after the firefight wasn’t silence at all.It was the drip of water from the cracked pipes above. The hiss of rain seeping through the basement door. The ragged breathing of four people who had no right to still be alive.Matteo slumped against me, heavy and stubborn even unconscious. My hands trembled from holding pressure on his wound, blood tacky on my gloves.“We need to move,” Luca said finally, voice a blade in the dark. He checked his gun, his movements clipped, controlled. “Umbra’s regrouping. This was a scout team, not the main strike.”Nico leaned against the wall, tilting his head back like he was bored, but his eyes never left me. “And you think moving him”—he jerked his chin toward Matteo—“is going to make us faster?”“Don’t start,” I snapped, sharper than I meant to.Nico’s smirk deepened, dangerous. “Oh, I’m not starting, sweetheart. I’m finishing. If he bleeds out on the street, it won’t matter how many doors Luca kicks down.”The air bristled betwe