All Chapters of Entangled With The Merciless Mafia Don : Chapter 71 - Chapter 79

DAVONIt’s too early for most people to drink, but the whiskey’s already flowing.My leather chair gives a small creak as I lean back, fingers resting under my chin. The room is dim, lit only by a desk lamp throwing long shadows across dark wood. The air still smells faintly of tobacco from a cigar I put out a while ago. My private study feels more like a command post — quiet, heavy, filled with old books no one thinks I’ve read. A large mahogany desk stands before me, buried in papers, maps, and a tablet showing live security feeds from across the city.Nuova Speranza sprawls on the screen in gray tones — my city, my kingdom. A place built on power, lies, and fear. Every street hides a deal. Every man hides a secret. I don’t rule for fame or fortune. I rule because control is the only thing that keeps chaos away.“Davon,” my brother Brad says, snapping me out of thought.I glance up at him. He’s sitting across the desk, a glass of whiskey in hand. Brad’s younger, leaner, but carries

SAMANTHAThe first thing I remember when I wake up is Davon Rancho’s voice echoing in my head.“You have until tomorrow evening to make up your mind, Samantha.”That single memory burns through the fragile peace of morning like fire through paper. My eyes snap open. For a second, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft hum of the refrigerator in the next room. My heart is already racing.I sit up, the blanket sliding off my legs. The apartment feels too still—too quiet. For a heartbeat, I let myself think maybe last night was only a bad dream. But then I catch it—the faint, smoky scent of Davon’s cigar still clinging to the air—and my stomach twists.It wasn’t a dream.He was really here.I push to my feet, running a shaky hand through my hair. The whole night replays in my mind like a cruel film I can’t turn off. The funeral. The suits watching from the shadows. Davon, sitting on my couch like he owned it—and now, somehow, my life.Marry me.Two words that hav

SAMANTHAIt has been a week since a visit from the Mafia King of Nuova Speranza turned my world upside down.The morning sun spills softly through my window, golden and warm. Tiny drops of dew glimmer on the potted plants sitting on the sill, shining like little emeralds. The curtains sway gently with the breeze, carrying the smell of wet soil and sunlight. Everything feels calm — painfully calm — like the world doesn’t know what’s about to happen to me.I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the messy sheets, hoping for an answer that isn’t there. My apartment feels quiet and empty, holding its breath along with me.Today, I become Mrs. Davon Rancho.The thought makes my heart jump and my stomach twist. I press my hands against my thighs to stop them from shaking. I’ve thought through every possible escape, every desperate idea, but there’s no way out.This is the only way to keep my family safe.I whisper the words like a prayer. Protecting my mother — Mrs. Jones — is worth whateve

SAMANTHA The fields spread endlessly before me, glowing under the soft afternoon sun. Rows of white roses and small wildflowers sway gently in the breeze, their scent light and sweet. Everything looks too perfect — like one of those dreams you never want to wake up from.But this isn’t a dream. It’s my wedding day.The sunlight is golden, but there’s a faint red hue creeping across the horizon, as though the day itself is bleeding into dusk. Rows of white chairs line the aisle, filled with people I’ve never met. I can tell most of them are from the Rancho family — Davon’s world. Their expensive clothes, polished shoes, and practiced smiles can’t hide the danger in their eyes.Among them, I spot two familiar faces — my mother and my best friend, Sofia. They sit in the front row, both looking anxious but proud. Mom wears a pale blue dress that softens her face, making her look younger, though her eyes are filled with emotion. Sofia gives me a small, nervous smile when our eyes meet. I

SAMANTHADavon stands by the door, his tie loosened just enough to make him look less like the powerful man everyone fears and more like the man I can’t seem to stop thinking about. His green eyes are fixed on me, sharp and unreadable, but burning with something that makes the air between us heavy—alive.I take a step back, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor. My heartbeat is too loud, my breathing uneven. I don’t know if it’s fear, anger, or something I don’t want to name.Davon doesn’t move at first. He just watches me, every small flicker of emotion on my face reflected in his gaze.“You’re nervous,” he says finally, his tone calm but edged with knowing.I give a short, dry laugh that sounds weaker than I’d like. “Nervous isn’t quite the word.”“Then what is?” he asks, stepping closer—slowly, deliberately. There’s purpose in every movement, the kind that reminds you he’s used to getting what he wants.“Trapped,” I say, forcing the word out even as my throat tightens