All Chapters of Trapped By The Mafia Don: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Alessandro"Alessandro," she says, sounding desperate, and she finally looks at me with those big, beautiful, sad eyes. "It just happened, okay? We sat down to have a drink and it came up and I asked and he told me. I wasn't trying to do anything." She steps closer, pleading, and I stand. My hands ball into fists. I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth."You couldn't just wait, could you?" I speak quietly. Her lips part and she shakes her head."I didn't mean anything by it. If your brother died in some mysterious accident ten years ago, wouldn't you want to find out exactly how?""Yes, I would." I step around the coffee table and move toward her. "I'd want to know everything, every little detail, but right now, right here in in this present moment, my brother's fighting for his life while you're rehashing the dead. It's not always about what you want."She backs away as I approach. I'm shaking with anger, so much fucking anger I could explode. She bumps against the wall and stays there,

AlessandroGavino pulls the slide back on his gun and lets it cock forward. He nods to himself, shoves the weapon into the holster under his arm, and leans back in his seat. Outside, the night is crisp and empty, the stars like paint splatter against a black canvas. Nico's in the back seat with night-vision binoculars watching the front of a quiet strip club nestled in the parking lot of a strip mall at the meeting point of two major roads."No motion," Nico says, voice low. Scattered throughout the area are four other SUVs, each filled with my most violent and dangerous men. "What time do we have?""Ten past two," I say, checking my watch. "Club closed ten minutes ago." We watched the late-night drunks filter out, get into their cars, and weave away. Hopefully without smashing into someone and killing them. "Girls should empty out soon.""You're sure Danil and his men are inside?" Gavino sounds anxious and I don't blame him. My brother's a hard man and he's done some violent things,

ClarissaPapa's estate looms in the distance, appearing and disappearing from view behind the hills as I wind up the familiar dirt road. The SUV Flowerss and rocks and I have the windows down, breathing the air, letting the dust get into my hair. I don't care and can't think of anything but getting home. This is my dust, my dirt. The land of my father and my family. Even if I came to it late, I grew to love it here. The men at the front gates a half-mile back looked like they saw a ghost when I smiled at them, but they waved me through and radioed up to Papa, so he knows I'm on the way.I don't know what kind of welcome I'm in for and it doesn't matter. I'm not here for smiles and hugs and joy. I'm here for answers, and I'm just happy to be home and for this drive to be over. It's been a nightmare of toll roads and boredom, watching miles flit past, up until I reached the border. But even that was no big deal: the guards practically couldn't have cared less when I rolled through, they

ClarissaThere's only one person that doesn't fit into this story.I can account for Alessandro. I can account for myself and for Manuel and for my father and for Don Russo.But Danil Federov still doesn't make sense.There's no explanation for him, at least one that would explain why he's back and why he's acting like he wants his father's old club or why he's warning me away from Alessandro.Unless this is all for revenge.The third person that died in the car bomb back then was Danil's father. And it's entirely possible that Danil blames either Papa or Don Russo for planting the device, despite obvious evidence otherwise. But that only points toward his motive, and doesn't help me solve the riddle.I drink the coffee and sit in silence with Papa for several long heartbeats."Are they going to be angry?" he asks softly. His aggression and rage are gone now, like a deflated balloon."Alessandro will be hurt. I hope once I explain why I had to come, he'll understand, but I don't know.

Alessandro"Did you get what you came for?" I ask her softly as I step toward the bed.She frowns slightly, staring at the coffee. "I think so.""And what did you learn?"I watch her take another long sip before putting the mug back down. Her back straightens and she draws herself up like a queen sitting on cushions in front of her court. Her posture is impeccable and I feel a sharp thrill in my guts I do my best to ignore. I put my own mug down and move closer."Manuel died in a car bomb. The bomb was planted on your father's car. Boris Federov and my brother took the brunt of the blast while Don Russo survived through sheer luck. They were there to discuss ending the war and coming to terms, and the Russian was acting as a go-between. I'm confident your father didn't plant that bomb. I'm fairly confident Manuel and my father didn't either. Which leaves Boris Federov, but why would he do it when he stood to benefit? Why would he go anywhere near that car if he knew about the bomb? So