All Chapters of My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent : Chapter 71 - Chapter 79

CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE LA ROSA NERA MARCINI'S WAREHOUSE - NIGHT Marcini’s throat bobbed as the barrels leveled at him. His eyes kept flicking, desperate, toward Dante, toward Nico, toward me. Nico’s arm cinched tighter around my waist, dragging me further into his lap, like I was the seat of his throne. His pistol stayed steady on Marcini, but the curl of his lips was for me alone. “You hear that silence? He thinks it’ll save him. Adorable.” Dante’s jaw locked, but his voice was all gravel and blade. “Silence won’t save you, Marcini. Not from us.” His gun didn’t so much as tremble. Marcini stammered, “If I speak… they’ll carve me alive. If I don’t… you’ll-” I lifted my gun, slow, deliberate. The black steel caught the light as it aligned with his chest. No eyes to see, no lips to read, only the muzzle staring him down like a cold, unblinking gaze.

DANTE’S PERSPECTIVE MARCINI’S WAREHOUSE – NIGHT That bitch just shot him. No hesitation. Just steel, smoke, and silence where a man’s begging used to be. Marcini’s body slumped, his blood running like filth across his own floor. Worthless bastard. Gave up an alias and then died like the rat he was. The Driver. I clenched my teeth so hard it rattled through my skull. The fucking Driver. Roman Voronin. A Russian thief dressed up as a king, thinking he can carve highways through Europe and step foot into Italy like it’s his racetrack. My racetrack. And she, La Rosa Nera, she sat there like the execution was nothing. Veil, voice twisted mechanical through that changer of hers, tone cutting into me like iron. “Marcini was already dead,” she said, cold, like it was fact, not choice. “He gave us what we needed. Nothing more.” Needed? I didn’t need scraps. I needed that Russian

CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVELA ROSA NERA CAR - UNDERGROUND SHOWROOM MIDNIGHT - DAWNThe leather of the backseat pressed cool against my legs as I leaned back, hands folded neatly on my lap. Renzo drove with the steady precision I expected, Alfonzo at his side, silent and alert. Nico sat beside me, muscles taut, eyes scanning every passing shadow like the city itself could betray us.“Still can’t believe you did it,” Nico muttered, voice ragged, low. “Just… pulled it off. No warning, no mercy.”I didn’t answer. I let the silence hang, letting him stew. My lips curved faintly, just enough to tease, not enough to soothe.The underground showroom appeared, a maze of polished, modified cars, the hum of clandestine commerce thick in the air. Alfonzo shifted, lifting the bag. I watched, detached, as he flung it into the crowd. The head skidded across the concrete, rolling to a stop between the sleek, armored cars.Chaos erupted immediat

CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE LIBRERIA FIORETTA The door clicked shut behind Nico, and silence folded back into the shop. I didn’t spare it a second thought.“Nikolai,” I called, not raising my voice.“Yes, Señora?”“Send Nathaniel to the outskirts,” I said, sliding a book into place with deliberate care. “It’s time Cynthia moved.”His brow twitched. “Cynthia, Señora?”I turned, sharp enough to slice hesitation from his face. “Yes. My dear little Cynthia. She was trained for this, beauty, brains, skill. A soldier wrapped in silk. She knows how to bait men, and she knows how to gut them.”Nikolai inclined his head, waiting.“The message goes through Nathaniel,” I continued. “Tell her to start with the underground showrooms. Dealers. Collectors. Men who think power comes cheap.” My lips curved, but the smile never reached my eyes. “She’ll know what to look for, tattoos behind their ears, cars with horns. A net

CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE LIBRERIA FIORETTA I tilted my head, voice steady. “Why me? Not Dante, not Nico, men who hold more power over Italy than I care to count.”Voronin’s laughter died, his face sharpening as he leaned forward. His eyes locked on mine, close enough his words brushed like secrets meant for no one else.“I don’t need big names with empires chained to territory. I need you… La Rosa Nera. No crown, no throne, yet Italy bends around you. A roaming ghost who slips in and out like the country is yours already.”I let silence stretch, unblinking, until my tone cut the air clean. “Get to the point.”His smile returned, thinner now. “Simple. I need another trade partner for my goods. With Marcini gone, I need someone who knows everything but doesn’t broadcast their every move. Someone who works in shadows. You fit too perfectly.”“No.” My refusal was immediate, flat. “I don’t allow foreign men to play on my grou