Todos los capítulos de I Married a Mafia King!: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Rhian lounged on the cushioned couch of the coffee shop, her glasses perched lazily on top of her head, the late-morning light casting a warm glow across her face. One leg crossed elegantly over the other, she cradled a cup of hot chocolate between her palms, savoring the velvety heat that seeped into her fingers.“It’s my lucky day. No one can ruin it,” she murmured with a soft smile, eyes fixed on the swirling surface of her drink. She set it gently onto the saucer, unaware that somewhere beyond the glass window, the world was already stirring to prove her wrong.Her eyes gleamed with quiet confidence—until they flicked toward the entrance. A man had just stepped inside, the soft chime of the door announcing his arrival.Her breath caught. Damon.Her heart gave an involuntary jolt. What is he doing here? Does he know?The sudden rush of panic made her hand slip, tilting the cup and sending a wave of hot chocolate sloshing over the rim. It splattered onto the table, narrowly missing

The hum of the engine filled the silence between them.Rhian’s knuckles were pale against the steering wheel, her grip tight enough to make her fingers ache. She kept her eyes locked on the road ahead, watching as the familiar city skyline fell away behind them. Buildings gave way to scattered houses, then to stretches of trees broken only by the occasional weathered billboard.“This isn’t the way to my place,” she said finally. Her voice came out quieter than she intended, but it still carried the edge of suspicion.“I know,” Damon replied without looking at her.She swallowed. “Then… where exactly are we going?”“I told you,” he said, his tone smooth and unhurried. “You’ll see.”That was all. No explanation. No reassurance. Just that maddening calm that made her want to scream.Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror—no cars followed. No pedestrians. No quick escape routes if she slammed on the brakes and bolted. The open road around them felt less like freedom and more like a trap s

Rhian shut the condo door behind her with a soft click, leaning against it for a moment as if to block the world out. Her fingers went to the long curly wig, tugging it free and shaking loose her real hair. The thick weight of makeup followed next—carefully wiped away until her skin felt bare, exposed.She peeled off her clothes in slow, tired motions and padded to the bathroom, the tiles cool beneath her feet.The shower hissed to life, steam curling in the small space. She stepped under the warm spray, tilting her head back as water streamed over her face and shoulders.Why was he there? The question looped in her mind, prickling at her nerves. I don’t want to see him. Everywhere he shows up, it’s like I can’t breathe right.Her hands moved in slow circles, scrubbing her skin, her face, as if she could wash off the unease clinging to her.“I better be careful next time,” she muttered to herself, the words almost lost under the sound of running water. “I can’t… I won’t cross paths wi

Rhian returned to her condo unit, making sure Damon hadn’t followed her closely. She double-checked the hallway before unlocking her door, stepping inside with a quiet sigh of relief.The moment the door clicked shut, she carried the grocery bags to the kitchen. One by one, she placed items in the refrigerator, determined to focus on the mindless task rather than the lingering echo of Damon’s voice in her head.It’s my hobby, looking for you.She shook her head, a faint scowl tugging at her lips. “Ridiculous,” she muttered, sliding the milk into the side compartment and shoving a bag of lettuce into the crisper drawer with more force than necessary.But the truth was harder to ignore in the stillness of her condo—her pulse had yet to completely settle, and the image of his confident grin kept replaying uninvited.She closed the refrigerator with a firm push, as if that could shut out the memory along with it.Crossing her arms, she tried to convince herself it was irritation, nothing

Rhian was tired—tired of playing roles that weren’t hers, tired of hiding behind a glittering facade. In the quiet of her room, she stood before the mirror, staring at the reflection of a woman she barely recognized. With steady hands, she removed her diamond earrings, setting them gently on the dresser. The heavy necklace followed, then the layers of makeup that had become her armor. One by one, the masks slipped away, leaving nothing but the woman she truly was.Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, free from the tight, styled perfection. She slipped into her favorite worn cardigan, the soft fabric wrapping her in familiarity. No spotlight. No pretense. No audience to please.At last, she was Rhian again—not the elusive, glamorous figure society admired, but the plain, simple owner of Glam Perfume, who knew every note in every bottle by heart. And for the first time in weeks, she could breathe.Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, free from the tight, styled perfection.