All Chapters of Craving My Mafia Obsession : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Sabrina’s POV Later That Night The sky is velvet. The kind of dark that isn’t empty, but endless painted with so many stars and lightning bugs. I’ve never seen so many stars, scattered like secrets waiting to be whispered. There’s no city glow to mute them out here. They shine so brightly it’s like the whole galaxy came closer just to bear witness. The lake is still now, barely rippling, a smooth pane of silver where the moon brushes its fingertips across the surface. The breeze has quieted to a whisper, brushing lightly through the tall grass and carrying the scent of pine, smoke, and the faint sweetness of the cookies Shelly baked earlier. And so am I. We’re alone again. Shelly and Sebastian turned in about an hour ago, their laughter fading as they disappeared into the cabin, barefoot and sun-drunk. The wooden boards creaked under their weight as they went upstairs, and then the house fell silent. Even the insects seem quieter now, the occasional chirp of

Sabrina’s POV The morning of the gender appointment arrives quicker than I could imagine. It’s strangely quiet at the mansion today. The kind of quiet that feels pregnant with meaning no pun intended. The air outside the windows is warm and still, sunlight painting soft stripes through the sheer white curtains draped across the mansion’s tall windows. Even the usual muffled sounds of Sebastian’s men downstairs are distant today, it’s kind of strange if you ask me. I’m already dressed by the time Michal walks into the bedroom, still towel-drying his hair. He freezes in the doorway, blue eyes sweeping over me. “You’re glowing,” he says, voice still gravelly from sleep. “I’m anxious,” I counter, running a hand over the soft knit of my sweater. It’s pale pink not on purpose. Not really. I just grabbed it without thinking. But now that I see myself in the mirror, I wonder if it’s my subconscious manifesting. Michal steps behind me, sliding his arms around my waist. “Yo

Michal’s POV According to Henry, the girls have locked themselves in the nursery all day. Not that I’m surprised. Sabrina’s been nesting like crazy lately. Especially with Shelly in tow hell-bent on making sure every plush toy and diaper stack is color-coded and symmetrical it’s practically a military operation upstairs. I imagine them in there now: paint chips, baskets of baby clothes, handwritten checklists curling at the edges from overuse. A battlefield of pastel chaos. “Apparently, they’re doing inventory on the pacifiers now,” Henry had informed me dryly this morning, barely masking his amusement. I chuckle, the image vivid in my head. “Shelly acts like she’s the one who’s pregnant.” Across the room, Sebastian looks up from the stack of documents we’ve been reviewing. A rare break from the world of gun deals and intel leaks, both of us buried in numbers and names we’d rather forget. Sebastian arches a brow and smirks. “She practically is. I caught her lecturing Sab

Michal’s POV The second Sabrina whispered, “It’s a girl,” and the room exploded in cheers, I felt my throat tighten. Not from nerves. Not from fear. The applause thundered around us like the stomping of giants, a chorus of assassins and smugglers and street kings now clapping with childlike glee. I should have been watching the doors. Scanning faces. Thinking strategy. But for a single beat—I didn’t. Instead, I looked at Sabrina, her hand over her belly, glowing in a way that had nothing to do with the chandelier above us. My woman. My queen. The future mother of my daughter. And then reality struck. Sebastian’s voice. Sharp. Dangerous. Cutting through the noise like a blade. “East perimeter breach. Two unknown vehicles.” I stepped in front of Sabrina before I even realized I’d moved. The instinct was as old as time. Protect the pack. Protect the family. But most of all protect her. “They know where we are.” Those words chilled me more than the winter air eve

Three Years Before the Present Day Michal – Age 15 The first time I saw her, she was wearing a lopsided ponytail and arguing with Shelly about whether macarons were better than cupcakes. I was leaning against the brick wall outside Sebastian’s estate, smoking a clove cigarette I’d stolen from his private stash. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows over the driveway, and I was only half-listening to Shelly chatter on the phone about her “adorable little bestie” who’d be visiting for the weekend. I didn’t expect to care. Back then, I was in knee-deep trading for becoming Sebastian's second in command. Mafia blood on my boots, even if they still smelled faintly like high school hallways and leather. Sebastian and I had been running errands for the family since we were twelve. Quiet deals. Messy ones. Once, when we were thirteen, we’d watched a man bleed out in a warehouse because he’d crossed the wrong name. By fifteen, I’d learned to smile while planning a tak