All Chapters of My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent : Chapter 121 - Chapter 125

DANTE'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE NIGHTThe room was too silent. My knuckles still burned from the wall I’d split open earlier, the ache crawling up my arm, reminding me of every truth she’d thrown in my face. Catalina, my wife, my enemy, my La Rosa Nera.I wanted to see it. Not just hear it. Not just believe her words. I wanted to witness her in the flesh, the woman all of Italy whispered about, the shadow that made grown men piss themselves.So I pulled my gun. Cold steel in my hand, aimed straight at her chest.Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then I saw it, the mask slip, the wife vanish. La Rosa Nera bled through, calm, sharp, dangerous. She didn’t flinch, didn’t beg. She knew exactly what I wanted.“Show me,” I growled.She moved. Fast. Too fast. One second the barrel was on her, the next I was the one on my back, the weight of her body pinning me down, the gun already in her hands. She straddled

CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE MORNING The morning light spilled through the sheer curtains, gilding Dante’s skin in a way that made him look more myth than man. My cheek rested against his chest, the steady thud of his heart still violent even in sleep, as though even his dreams fought wars. We were tangled, skin to skin, our limbs a knot that neither of us had any intention of loosening. When his lashes fluttered open, his eyes found me instantly, sharp, focused, obsessed. His palm came up, cupping my jaw, dragging his thumb over my lips like he had to remind himself I was here, not some apparition he’d dreamed up. “You’re awake,” he murmured, voice rough with the night. “I never really slept,” I confessed, pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. “Too many thoughts.” His mouth curved in that dark way of his, a smile and a

CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE FRANCE - SUITE AFTERNOON Nikolai placed the leather folder on the table with quiet efficiency. I shifted closer to Dante, letting my thigh brush his, before opening the documents. The earlier noise in the suite, Carlos’s clinginess, Nico’s smirks, fell into silence the moment I spoke.“Voronin has been busy.” My fingers flipped through the first pages. “Negotiations with the small fry in Russia. Not the dons who matter, but the ones no one notices. Look here.” I tapped the list of names. “Petty bosses, little reach, no seat at the table. And yet… he ties threads through them.”Carlos scoffed beside me, leaning lazily against the back of my chair. “That’s laughable. What good are shrimps when sharks are circling?”I turned to him, eyes sharp. “Sharks don’t notice shrimps. But shrimps see everything. Voronin’s building a web. Not power. Information.”Dante still hadn’t spoken. He skimmed the