All Chapters of Craving My Mafia Obsession : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Sabrina’s POV The first thing I noticed wasn’t the pain. It was the sound. Hammering. The echo of nails driven into wood. Shouts of men calling out measurements, orders, curses. The squeal of glass being lifted into place, the groan of hinges being repaired, boots crunching across gravel and broken debris. I sat propped against pillows in a bed too big for me, Aubree tucked into the crook of my arm, and the world outside my door carried on like a wounded beast trying to stitch itself whole. The mansion breathed differently now. Every corner carried scars from the attack: shattered windows, bullet holes in plaster, scorch marks from smoke grenades. Even from my room, I could feel it—the weight of blood still in the floorboards, the ghosts of shouts that still seemed to vibrate in the walls. But when I looked down at Aubree, swaddled in a pale pink blanket Dr. Gray had tucked around her, none of it seemed to matter. Her tiny chest rose and fell with steady rhythm, he

Sabrina’s POV I thought I understood exhaustion before—after sleepless nights of worry, after the kidnapping, after the battle. But this.. this was different. This was bone-deep, soul-deep. The kind that no nap or strong cup of coffee could fix. The rhythm of my life had changed overnight. Wake. Feed her. Rock her. Panic because she cried too long. Panic because she didn’t cry at all. Stare at her little chest to make sure it was still rising and falling. Doze for five minutes before another sound startled me awake again. Even when she slept peacefully, my mind didn’t. I was terrified of losing her, terrified that the chaos that had nearly swallowed us all. Would somehow find its way back into this room and snatch her from my arms. And yet.. I’d never felt more alive. When she wrapped her impossibly tiny hand around my finger for the first time, I thought my heart might explode. When her eyes fluttered open—dark, curious, taking in a world she didn’t understand—I f

Sabrina’s POV Time slid. Aubree drifted into that boneless, heavy sleep that turns your arms to holy ground. I slid her to the bassinet like defusing a bomb, exhaled when she stayed under, and stood there just to stare at her. Michal came up behind me and wrapped me in the kind of hold that says I’m here, not the kind that says you can lean. I did both. “She’s loud when she’s quiet,” he murmured. I smiled. “She learned from you.” Shelly snorted from the couch, already dozing. “He clanks like a knight.” We let the silence gather. In it, I could hear faint music from somewhere deep in the house—somebody’s radio turned low. A faucet squeaked. Pipes sighed. A guard walked past the window below, his radio clipped at his shoulder, his breath a fog in the cooling night. The mansion’s new heartbeat arranged itself into a pattern: patter of boots, creak of boards, the whisper of curtains when the air shifted. It was not the rhythm I grew up inside. It might be better. Mich

Sabrina’s POV The scent of coffee drifted through the air, mixing with the sweet vanilla notes of morning pancakes. I padded barefoot into the kitchen, my hair still a mess, Michal trailing behind me wearing a smirk and the same sweatpants from last night. “I’ll make the eggs,” he offered, leaning in to press a kiss to my temple. “You’re only saying that because I burn them.” “You scorch them,” he corrected with a grin, already cracking eggs into the skillet. I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, the softest sound caught my attention. A tiny squeal. Then a babble. I turned my head just in time to see the baby monitor light flicker. Aubree’s awake. I was already moving, but the sound of excited footsteps came from the hall. “I got her!” Shelly called, her voice rising with pure joy. “She’s not a door prize!” Sebastian called after her, but the affection in his tone made me smile. Within seconds, Shelly burst into the kitchen, hair in a bun, fuzzy socks on

SABRINA’S POV The backyard had been transformed. Rows of pastel-colored balloons swayed in the warm breeze, tied to every chair, every post, every available corner. White tables with rose gold runners sat in perfect lines beneath the trellis, each place set with glass plates, cloth napkins folded like tiny dresses. Cupcake towers that sparkled in the sun. The air smelled like vanilla cake, cotton candy, and lilac. A pink-and-gold bounce house dominated the far end of the lawn, filled with screaming laughter, tulle skirts, and glitter face paint. Music played low under the noise of squealing children, and somewhere near the gift table, one of the twins was arguing about cupcake strategy like it was a military mission. It was perfect. Absolutely chaotic. And perfect. Because today.. My daughter turned ten. Aubree. My whole world. She darted between tables in her custom birthday dress—layers of soft pink tulle trimmed with tiny sewn-in pearls. Her curls bounced w