บททั้งหมดของ The Mafia's Bride: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Chapter Sixty-OneGIOVANNI hurled the bottle of Jack Daniels against the wall, fury exploding into the shattering glass. The sound was deafening, echoing through the room like gunfire. Amber liquid cascaded down the mahogany paneling, pooling on the Persian rug beneath—a wedding gift from his grandmother that had survived three generations of Galliardi men and their various storms of rage. Tonight, it would bear the stains of his particular brand of anguish.A month. A whole month had passed since Carly vanished without a trace from the hospital he'd brought her to. Even the staff had no explanation, no clue as to how their patient had simply disappeared. The security footage showed nothing. The hallway cameras had mysteriously malfunctioned for exactly seventeen minutes, long enough for a ghost to slip through their fingers. He had wanted to tear the place apart that day, but his father held him back, telling him he needed to keep a clear head.

Chapter Sixty-Three"MR. O'MARRA.""Galliardi." Charles's reply was colder than the climate of Antarctica.Giovanni had requested a meeting ten times through the man's secretary, only to be granted an audience on the eleventh attempt."I'm sure you're well aware that I own two private planes, Galliardi," Charles said, his last words delivered in Italian. "So, forgive me if I don't understand what could possibly bring the CEO of MAI all the way here.""I know you're a busy man, Mr. O'Marra, so I won't waste either of our time. Where's Carly? I want her back."The older man chuckled. "I know who you are, and I admire your guts. I failed to protect her mother, I will not make the same mistake with my daughter. I'm prepared to pay double of what Tyron owes the casino. Name your price.""I don't need your money. All I need is Carly. Give her back to me.""You're making a big mistake if you think I'm keeping her agai

Chapter Sixty-FiveCHARLES visited Carly three times a month, never on fixed days. He suspected someone was watching his movements. Giovanni's men, no doubt. He varied his routes, sometimes taking the back channels to throw them off. After forty years in business, being cautious had become second nature, but now it felt more personal, more urgent. His daughter's safety depended on it.The first time Charles mentioned his missing luxury cars, Carly had worried. Though he never directly blamed Giovanni, she strongly suspected his involvement. The black Mercedes and silver Jaguar had vanished from the secured garage beneath his office building. The security cameras had mysteriously malfunctioned that night, showing nothing but static during the crucial hours.Last month, one of her father's shipments had been delayed. A convoy carrying premium beverages from their southern facilities was stopped at three separate checkpoints, each inspection dragge

Chapter Sixty-Seven"STOP." Giovanni's voice cut through the sultry atmosphere of the penthouse suite like a blade.His fingers wrapped around Tatiana's wandering hands just as they began slipping inside his trousers, her perfectly manicured nails having already made quick work of his belt during their heated kiss against the door.The famous supermodel's porcelain skin was flushed, her platinum hair disheveled from where his fingers had tangled in it moments before—all part of the carefully orchestrated performance for the paparazzi who had followed them from the restaurant. He'd escorted her back after their well-publicized dinner at the city's most exclusive establishment, where photographers had captured their intimate glances over champagne and oysters."Isn't this what you came here for, darling?" Tatiana purred, her Russian accent thick with desire and confusion. Her emerald eyes, usually calculating and cold before cameras,

Chapter Sixty-NineIF Carly's eyes could fire bullets, Giovanni was certain he'd already be riddled with holes and lying dead at her feet. The sharpness of her glare was relentless, cutting through him like shards of ice. He pulled out a chair for her, the same gentlemanly gesture that had once made her smile. But instead of sitting, she deliberately chose another spot across the small café. He only shrugged it off, masking the hurt behind practiced indifference, and sat back down across from her.The café buzzed with the typical afternoon crowd. Businessmen on laptops, students with textbooks, couples sharing desserts. None of them had any idea they were witnessing the reunion of a lifetime."What can I get you?" he asked in the most casual tone he could muster, as if they were strangers making small talk rather than former lovers with a tangled, painful history. But the truth was, his palms were sweating like crazy, slick despite