All Chapters of Half a Lifetime Later—My Mafia Princess is Finally Mine: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Fair warning: The update schedule is entering its messy era. Don’t say I didn’t warn you 😭 Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ I leaned against the cold marble of the hallway, a few steps away from the dining room where the clinking of silverware sounded like a battlefield truce. I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, closing my eyes to focus on the sound of his breathing. He let out a deep sound of frustration, a noise I knew meant he was rubbing his temples, "I actually thought I was done with all this," he stated, "But Remo has dragged me right back into his mess. He can handle everything on his own, Alessia. He’s sharp, he’s efficient... he’s handling the business better today than he ever has. He just won't let go of me." I let out a knowing laugh, "He doesn't want to let go because he wants you close, Rino. I’ve seen it in him. Your approval is his oxygen. I hope you can see how loyal he is to you, even when he’s being difficult." He scoffed, "I see him. I know how hard he’s tryin

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ Rino didn't look at the trembling girl beside me. He didn't even look at his son. His eyes, usually so warm when they landed on me, were now two chips of frozen flint. They were locked onto mine, and I felt the heat of his anger radiating across the room in waves. It was a slow-moving storm, climbing from the floor, tightening his jaw, and turning his posture into something dangerous. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I was a little terrified. I knew the man standing there... the one who could level a city with a phone call but I also knew the man who held me in the dark. I had to bet everything on that second man. I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was full of sand. I didn't let go of Adelina’s hand. If I did, I knew she’d collapse. I forced my legs to move, turning my body fully toward him, shielding her with my own frame. "Remo," I said, cleared my throat and pushed the words out again, "Take her upstairs. Take Adelina

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ The sun was just starting to hit the marble countertops, turning the kitchen into a glow of gold and white. I was up before anyone else, except the staff, of course. I had swapped my silk slip for a cream-colored cashmere knit and tailored trousers. I was humming a soft tune, as I moved around the massive island. "Sienna," I said, giving the head cook a smile. "Make sure the berries are chilled. Rino likes them crisp." "Of course, Signora," she replied. I reached for the fresh sourdough, slicing it into thick, perfect pieces. Everything had to be perfect. Every plate, every linen napkin, every sprig of mint on the fruit platter. I wasn't just making a meal, I was building a bridge. If the table looked beautiful, if the coffee was exactly as he liked it when he walked in, I could keep things calm and elegant, maybe Rino wouldn't see a threat. Maybe he’d just see a family. I moved to the stove, whisking the eggs, "The orange juice is fresh-pressed?" I

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ I leaned back against the velvet sofa of the private dressing room, a glass of chilled sparkling water in my hand. "Adelina, darling, you’ve been in there for ten minutes," I called out, "I’m starting to think you’ve escaped through the vents." "I’m just trying to figure out how a human body is supposed to fit into something this... tiny," her muffled voice drifted back, sounding genuinely offended, "Alessia, there is more fabric in a cocktail napkin than there is in this skirt." I laughed, "It’s a classic silhouette! You have the legs for it. Just come out." The curtain jerked open. Adelina stood there, looking like a trapped animal. I’d picked out a gorgeous, form-fitting cream satin slip dress, the kind of thing I lived in. It was elegant, expensive, and draped over her like liquid. She looked stunning, but she was standing with her legs apart and her shoulders hunched, looking like she was ready to headbutt someone. "I feel like a very fancy popsicle

Rino ─𖤝─ The smell of damp concrete and old copper was in the air, heavy enough to taste. I stood over the man tied to the chair, my shadow stretching across his bruised face. He was breathing through his nose, a wet, rattling sound that filled the silence of the warehouse. I didn't look at him. I looked at Remo. "You’re being too loud with it," I said as I picked up the pliers from the metal table, "If you break his jaw now, he can’t tell us where the shipment is. You have to be surgical. You don't hit to hurt, you hit to open doors." Remo wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his knuckles stained dark. He nodded, his chest heaving, "Surgical. Right." "Watch the pressure," I told him, stepping closer, "Focus on the joints. People think the heart is the center of a man, but it's the nerves in the wrists. You find the—" Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt. The vibration of a phone on a wooden crate cut through the room. Remo glanced at the crate, then back at the man in the chair. H