Semua Bab Half a Lifetime Later—My Mafia Princess is Finally Mine: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Silvio ⊱⊶⊷⊰ Enrico had me pinned against the edge of Raphael’s workstation before I even got the monitor fully booted up. His mouth crashed onto mine and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, dragging him closer until our bodies lined up perfectly. The glow from the monitors painted him in blue light, he bit my bottom lip, just enough to make me suck in a breath. “Lock the damn door,” he murmured against my mouth. “No one comes in here,” I whispered back, pulling him in for another kiss anyway. His hands slid under my shirt, fingers cold but touch blazing, and I groaned quietly. “You’re supposed to be helping me mess with Raphael’s computer,” I said, though I didn’t sound very convincing with my lips brushing his. He let out a laugh against my neck, “I am helping. I’m keeping you motivated.” I laughed into his mouth and kissed him again until I felt dizzy. It was stupid how good he was at this. How good we were at this. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make hi

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ For a long moment I just stared at it, my fingers hovering, trembling. I finally slid a thumb under the flap. It opened with this soft, clean rip like he’d sealed it gently, like he didn’t want to startle me. Inside was a folded paper. I pulled it out slowly, afraid it would crumble, or that I would. My hands shook uncontrollably as I unfolded it. I read the first line, and my vision blurred. My throat closed. I had to clamp a hand over my mouth because a sound clawed up from somewhere deep, somewhere broken. I blinked until the words steadied enough to read again. The ink felt alive, like I could hear his voice in every line. “Aunt Alessia, I don’t even know how to start this. I’ve been gone from home a year, but it feels like ten. And even when I wasn’t near you, I still felt you because every day I spent with Allegra, I saw pieces of you in her. Your calm. Your softness. That strength you carry without even trying.” My chest clenched hard. I p

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ They married her off. They actually married my daughter off. They forced her into a life she never chose, shoved her straight into the arms of a man who lives and breathes blood and sin, the Underboss of the Cosa Nostra. Scott Mancini. Even saying his name made something in me twist. After everything I survived, after everything that was taken from me, I swore my daughter would never live the life I did. I swore no man, no family, no boss, no oath would ever decide her future. I swore she would choose her own heart, her own path. But life has a sick way of spitting on promises. She didn’t escape the chains, they just changed the hands holding them. She went from being forced into marriage with a fifty-year-old bastard... straight into the hands of the underboss of the Cosa Nostra. And the things I’ve heard from my boys. Stories of Mancini cracking skulls without blinking. Stories of him running the streets like they’re his personal hunting ground. Stories of

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ A lot had happened yesterday. We got Silvio and Enrico back, and the Costellos got their families back. Blood had been spilled on both sides, but they lost more than we did. And I... I got my daughter back. Now I sat on the edge of the mattress, barely breathing, watching her. My eyes kept tracing her face over and over again, like if I blinked too long she might disappear. She lay there unconscious, her lashes resting on her cheeks, her breathing soft. Every rise of her chest felt like a miracle I didn’t deserve but would die to protect. She was here. In Chicago. In my home. Under my roof. With me. Away from all those people who stole her from me. Away from the cruel hands that raised her. Away from the ghost of the man who ripped her out of my arms in the middle of the night nineteen years ago and made me believe I’d never see her again. My palms wouldn’t stop shaking. I had them pressed to my knees. My heart was pounding so hard I felt it in my throat. Ever

Rino ─𖤝─ I guided the Bentley through late-evening traffic, one hand draped over the wheel, the other resting on the console. Valeria sat beside me, practically vibrating with excitement, her perfume blooming sweet and sugary in the car. “Rino,” she whispered, leaning closer, fingers brushing my forearm, “You didn’t tell me where we’re going.” I looked down at her fingers and then back at the road. The same fingers that had unlocked my safes. The same fingers that had traced patterns on another man’s body while she smiled at me the next morning. “You’ll see,” I said. “Is it just us?” she asked, leaning back, a sly smile tugging her lips. “A private night?” Private. She had no idea how private. “It’s exclusive,” I murmured, turning the wheel with one motion, “Very few people get access.” Her eyes went soft, dreamy, like she was already picturing candlelit tables and champagne towers. The road wound upward, the city falling away until only darkness and elevation surround