All Chapters of I Married a Mafia King!: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The night was quiet, but for Rhian it felt louder than ever. Every whisper she had heard earlier kept echoing in her mind like a curse she couldn’t escape. She could still see Cynthia clinging to Damon, her voice honeyed and poisonous. She could still hear Damon’s silence, which hurt more than any sharp word could. Silence was agreement. Silence was betrayal.Rhian stood frozen in the hallway, her body trembling as tears blurred her sight. She wanted to scream, to run to him and demand the truth. But her feet had carried her upstairs instead, her pride too wounded, her heart too fragile. She had buried herself beneath the blankets, but no amount of covering could hide her from the cold. The other side of the bed remained empty, and for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was sleeping beside a stranger.Sleep never came. She tossed, turned, pressed her face into the pillow, but all she could think of was Damon’s arm around another woman, his voice—gentle, reserved—for som

The nights after her father’s burial were unbearable.Rhian sat alone at the long dining table, her hands wrapped around a cup of untouched tea. The steam had long since faded, leaving the porcelain lukewarm, but she couldn’t bring herself to drink it. Every corner of the mansion seemed to echo with silence, and every second felt like it dragged on for hours.She stared at the empty chair across from her—the one Damon used to sit in when they shared meals. It had been weeks since she had seen him there, but tonight that absence weighed heavier than ever.Her father would have been there if he could. He had always taken a seat beside her, even when Damon was too busy or too cold to join her. But now… both chairs were empty.Her lips trembled as she whispered, “Papa, you left me with him. You trusted him to take care of me. But look at me now…” Her words dissolved into silence, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the room.The next morning, Rhian found herself standing in front of her fa

The cemetery had grown quiet after the mourners left, but Rhian’s fury was louder than the silence.The air smelled of damp soil, and the chill of the evening pressed down on her black-clad figure as she stood rigidly, facing Damon.Her hands shook, not from the cold, but from the storm raging inside her chest. She had held it all in for days—her grief, her loneliness, her heartbreak—and now that he was here, she could no longer stop the words from spilling.“Where were you when I was calling you?” Her voice cracked with rage, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She took a step closer, fists trembling. “Where were you when my father died and I needed you most?”She paused, her tone cutting deeper. “You were gone just like that—like you disappeared into thin air.”Her voice rose into the empty cemetery, filled with anguish that clung to every word. She searched his face, desperate for an explanation that would make sense, that would at least ease the torment in her chest.But Damon,

The night air was heavy as Damon sat alone in his car, the hum of the engine vibrating through the silence. He didn’t drive away immediately. Instead, he leaned back against the leather seat, eyes closed, fingers pressed to his temples as if he could massage away the pounding in his skull.He had seen Rhian earlier, at her father’s burial. He had felt her slap burn across his cheek, the sting not from the force but from the pain in her voice when she spat her words.“Where were you when I was calling you? My father died and you’re gone just like that?!”He had answered coldly, “I… was on a three-day business trip,” though the truth was far more complicated.She didn’t believe him. He saw it in her eyes, that mocking grin that said she thought she knew where he had been—wrapped in Cynthia’s arms, betraying her when she needed him most.He let her believe it.Because it was easier than explaining the truth.Damon opened his eyes and stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror. His j

Rhian sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the small velvet box on her nightstand. Inside wasn’t jewelry, but the pregnancy test—the one that had changed everything. Two pink lines, now tucked away as if they were a secret too heavy to face.She had rehearsed the words in her mind a hundred times. “Damon, I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.” She imagined his reaction over and over—shock, maybe, but eventually a smile, arms around her, whispering promises for the family they would build.But doubt was a shadow that lingered no matter how brightly she tried to picture that future. Damon hadn’t been himself for months. He was distant, cold, his absences unexplained. He wasn’t there at her father’s funeral, and every time she thought of that betrayal, it left another scar.Still… this was their child. And she needed him to know.She picked up her phone, thumb hovering over his contact. But before she could press call, it buzzed.It was the private investigator.Her breath caught.