All Chapters of When the Fool Heals the Mafia: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Amara lingered at the threshold for a moment, her grandfather’s words echoing in her chest like a heavy toll of a bell. His hand had trembled against hers, his eyes sharp despite the years that weighed on them. He was worried not only about her safety, but about Zogo……. Does he truly have good intentions? Can he protect you when the storm comes? His doubt gnawed at her even though she tried to mask her unease.When the heavy wooden door closed softly behind her, the faint smile she had forced for her grandfather faded away. The corridor stretched long and quiet, its shadows swallowing the fragile courage she had carried inside the study. Her steps slowed, burdened by the weight of their conversation, until she reached the staircase leading toward her wing of the estate. There, her composure cracked. Her lips pressed into a thin, worried line as the questions rose inside her like a restless tide.Grandfather sees things others don’t. What if he’s right? What if Zogo is too distant… too

The stone corridors of the temple were cool and hushed, sunlight filtering through narrow windows and painting long strips of gold across the polished floor. The faint scent of incense lingered in the air, mingling with the sharper fragrance of herbs drying in clay bowls by the walls.Elira sat propped on a cushioned chair near the open lattice, her posture fragile yet dignified. A shawl was drawn over her shoulders, though she still shivered slightly against the morning air. Her breathing was steady but shallow, each rise and fall of her chest carrying the weight of age and illness. Still, her hands rested gracefully in her lap, as though even frailty could not undo the poise, she had carried all her life.The door creaked softly as Dr. Rafael entered, carrying a small bundle of fresh herbs and a vial of tincture. He moved with the quiet assurance of one long accustomed to caring for the temple’s sickness, but his gaze lingered on Elira a moment longer than usual half in concern, half

The study of Musk Mansion glowed dimly with firelight, tall shelves casting shadows that seemed to listen more closely than men. Outside, rain lashed against the windows, but within, only the slow tick of a clock and the crackle of the hearth filled the silence.Don Victor sat in his high-backed chair, a glass of amber wine untouched in his hand. He swirled it absently, not for the taste but as if searching its depths for something lost. His gaze was fixed on the young man before him.Zogo sat rigid, disciplined, though the weight in the air pressed heavily on them both.At last, Don Victor spoke his voice low, worn by years and secrets.“You see, Amara never had the luxury of becoming what others might have wished for her. Life stripped her of that choice early on. Perhaps you already know… her parents were taken from her in a single night. A car accident, or so the papers claimed. But I was there, Zogo. I heard the truth others refused to face.”The firelight carved his face into ha

Don Victor stopped speaking the moment he heard soft footsteps echoing in the corridor outside his study. The sound was faint, yet distinct enough that he lifted his head, his sharp instincts catching it even before the door opened.He already knew who it was. Years of raising her had attuned him to the rhythm of her steps, soft yet purposeful, like a whisper carrying weight.When the door creaked open, Amara entered.Her presence shifted into the air instantly. What had been heavy with tension and shadows now felt gentler, warmer, as though the house itself had sighed in relief at her arrival. She carried herself with her usual quiet strengthening high, shoulders squared but Zogo could see the faint tiredness in her eyes, the kind that came not from lack of sleep, but from years of carrying burdens too heavy for one soul.Zogo, who had been sitting with all the stillness of a soldier at watch, rose at once. His tall frame moved with a quiet urgency toward her. For all the fire in his

The car purred softly as it rolled out of the Musk estate gates, the early morning light spilling faintly across the sky. The chauffeur, a quiet man in a dark uniform, kept his eyes on the road, his gloved hands steady on the wheel. Inside the back seat, Amara sat by the window, her reflection faint against the glass. Cristy sat beside her, fiddling with the strap of her small bag, a trace of nervousness lingering in her features.“Amara…” Cristy’s voice broke the silence gently, almost as if she was afraid to disturb her miss’s thoughts.“Are you sure you’re ready for this? Going to the Walton estate for the first time… it feels like a big step.”Amara gave a small, soft smile without taking her eyes off the horizon.“Cristy, I’ve been walking toward this moment ever since I signed that marriage contract. It was bound to happen. I can’t keep avoiding the place that’s now… supposed to be my home.”Cristy hesitated, then nodded, her fingers tightening together.“I just don’t want you t