Semua Bab Craving The Mafia's Touch.: Bab 21 - Bab 26

Dante's POV“Leave my wife.”The words tore out of me before I could stop myself, low and venomous, like the crack of a whip. I didn’t care that the room smelled of another man’s cologne. I didn’t care that Bianca’s bare shoulder glistened in the dim lamplight, or that her fingers had been tangled in that bastard’s hair just a moment before.I stalked forward, heat raging in my chest, and dragged her off the bed. My fingers closed tight around her wrist, and she yanked it free, eyes blazing like wildfire.“What the hell is wrong with you, Dante?” she spat, chin tilted high.“What’s wrong with me?” I stepped closer, voice trembling with fury. “What’s wrong with you, Bianca? How the fuck can you be so cheap...just going all out with a man you met tonight?”Her lips curled into the kind of smile that made my blood boil and my cock throb all at once.“First of all,” she hissed, “I’m not your wife. Secondly…” She leaned forward, her breath warm against my jaw. “…I’m only learning from the

Dante's POV The hallways reeked of smoke and betrayal.I stepped out of the room with my gun firm in my hand, the chaos around me roaring like an angry beast. Flames licked the walls from somewhere in the distance. People screamed, bullets cracked, the ceiling groaned as if the whole place was ready to collapse on itself.I didn’t walk fast. In the mafia world, fast steps get you killed. I walked slowly, careful, every muscle tense, finger ready on the trigger. My eyes scanned corners, shadows, doors half-open. This wasn’t just chaos, it was a graveyard waiting to swallow names.Then a hand gripped my shoulder.In an instant, I spun around, gun raised, the barrel a breath away from a skull. My eyes locked with Mordecai’s cold grin.“Calm down, boy Dante,” he said, voice slick as oil. “I ain’t here for you.”I didn’t lower the gun right away. My breath was steady, but my pulse raced. Mordecai was no ordinary man. If he showed up in smoke and bullets, he didn’t come empty.“What the he

Bianca's POV The shot burned through my hand before I even realized what had happened. My body dropped to the ground, a scream swallowed by the night. Blood gushed hot and fast, painting the earth crimson.Her aim was terrible, otherwise I wouldn’t still be breathing. Bad aiming. Amateur. She had a lot to learn.I clutched my wrist, the pain tearing through me in waves. Crawling, stumbling, I dragged myself toward the bushes. My lungs were screaming, my heartbeat pounding like war drums. I pressed my back against the rough bark of a tree, gasping.“I can’t… lay open like this. Not to them.” My voice cracked as I whispered to myself.I bit my lip until I tasted iron. This wasn’t the life I dreamed of. I wanted classrooms, not battlegrounds. White coats, not blood-soaked dresses. I wanted to heal lives, not watch them slip away. Yet here I was...carrying a cross I never built.Tears burned down my cheeks as I tried to wrap the wound with my torn dress, but the blood wouldn’t stop. My v