Início / Romance / The Mafia Devil’s Wrong Bride / Capítulo 171 - Capítulo 180

Todos os capítulos de The Mafia Devil’s Wrong Bride: Capítulo 171 - Capítulo 180

204 Capítulos

170

Dante Romano I should’ve ignored her summons. But when my mother “requests” afternoon tea, she doesn’t actually request anything. She commands. And since I left her charity gala without warning—which apparently is a crime worse than murder in her book—here I am, parking my car outside the Romano estate. The garden is too perfectly manicured. Too serene. The opposite of how I feel. My mother sits beneath a white canopy, sunlight pouring over her. A porcelain teacup rests between her fingers. She looks elegant, composed, and already irritated. Wonderful. I walk toward her, hands in my pockets, expression flat. The chair across from her is empty, deliberately waiting for me like a trap. “Dante.” She doesn’t smile. “Mother.” I sit. She nods to a maid who immediately steps forward to pour me tea. I place my hand over the cup. “No, grazie.” Mother exhales dramatically. “Must you always be this tightly wound?” I shrug. “It’s been a long week.” She studies me in that way only moth

171

Annalissa Hale The apartment is already a mess of ribbons and balloons when the morning sun pours through the curtains, turning the living room into a glowing haze of color. I’m standing on a stool, probably dangerously, trying to tape a string of sky-blue balloons to the ceiling when I catch Kian wobbling dangerously close to the TV stand. “Kian Romano,” I warn, pointing a finger down at him like he can understand my authority. “Do not touch that. Don’t you dare.” He pauses, tiny chubby hands raised mid-crime, then flashes me the widest grin. Great. He thinks this is a game. “Hania!” I yell next because she’s toddling straight toward the box of fragile decorations. “No ma’am, leave that alone!” From the kitchen, Clarissa groans loudly. “Issa, stop yelling at them like that,” she says as she walks in, bowl of gummies in hand. “They’re literally one year old. They don’t know what ‘stop’ means.” “They should learn,” I mumble even though I know she’s right. Clarissa places the gu

172

Annalissa Hale I open the door and he smiles warmly before hugging me. “You look radiant, Issa.” “Do not flatter me,” I say, swatting his arm playfully. “You look… very not jet-lagged.” “Lies,” he replies. “I’m dying inside.” We both laugh. We walk through the apartment together, greeting guests. Ivan spends time with the twins, cooing at them, giving them adorable little toys. When he returns to me, Clarissa pinches my arm subtly. I glare at her. She winks and disappears. Ivan leans against the doorway. “You’ve been well?” “As well as a mother of twins can be.” He chuckles. “The U.S. branch is running smoothly. Paris too. Mostly because of you.” “I do Zoom calls,” I say. “I barely go in.” “It counts,” he says gently. “And now? With daycare starting… the office will be lucky to have you around.” I smile. “Thanks. I’ll try.” “You’ll succeed,” he says. “For them.” My throat tightens again. He always says things like that but never pushing too hard. The apartment is loud, k

173

Annalissa Hale The twins are unusually quiet this morning. Almost like they sense something is changing. I stand in front of the daycare building, holding one baby in each arm, my heart pounding so hard I feel it in my throat. The sign above the glass door reads Bright Steps Early Learning Center in cheerful letters, but nothing about this feels cheerful. It feels like the beginning of a heartbreak. “My babies,” I whisper into their soft hair. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Kian is chewing on his sleeve. Hania is pulling at my necklace. They have no idea that today, for the first time in their one-year-old lives, I’m leaving them with strangers. Clarissa insisted this was a good idea. Ivan encouraged me. The daycare director gave me a full tour. I read reviews, asked questions, checked hygiene standards twice. Everything is objectively perfect. But my chest still aches. I step inside, greeted by soft music, pastel walls painted with rainbows, and a woman wearing a sunflow

174

Annalissa Hale The broad room at Lombardo Tech is filled up. My chair is pressing into the plush carpet and sunlight is streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The past few days have been hectic. Balancing daycare pickups, deadlines, and clients has been like walking a tightrope in stilettos on a windy day. And I didn’t know it would be this hard being back in an office after working from home since the twins were born. I watch my team around the table, their brows furrowed. They’re discussing the latest campaign I’m leading, tossing ideas around and pointing out flaws that might exist. “Issa, the numbers from last quarter…” one of them begins, hesitating slightly, as if afraid I might snap. “I know,” I say firmly, forcing a calm into my voice I don’t feel inside. “I’m doing my best. We still have a full day tomorrow before the deadline. I can still make this work.” A pause. Then another team member, braver this time, says, “We know you’re still adjusting. And we get

175

Annalissa Hale Those first few months were… brutal. Even though I’d managed to overcome some deadlines, more came. Settling into the routine wasn’t easy. Deadlines collided with daycare drop-offs, and every missed nap felt like a personal failure. I remember carrying Kian in one arm and Hania in the other with my laptop bag slung across my shoulder while trying to answer an email before the coffee I poured over my desk cooled entirely. “Mommy, look!” Kian yelled one morning, pointing at a half-smashed pancake on the kitchen floor. “I made it for you!” I blinked. Took a deep breath. “It’s… beautiful,” I said, smiling through the mess. Hania clapped her hands like she’d just watched fireworks. And somehow, in that chaos, I learned to breathe. The twins grew fast. Too fast. First words, first steps, first wobbly bike rides, first tantrums that left me questioning my sanity, everything became a lesson in patience and improvisation. There were mornings I wondered if I’d ever survive

176

There’s been a misplacement of chapters in the last few chapters and they have been edited and waiting to be reviewed. Do not read the new chapters yet.Annalissa HaleI wake up to a chorus of giggles and footsteps pounding across the apartment floor, my eyes snapping open to the morning chaos that has been my life for the past five years. The first thing I see is Kian tugging Hania’s hair into a haphazard ponytail while humming some off-key tune he insists is music.“Stop!” I bark, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Kian, let go of her hair! Hania, stop trying to climb onto the dresser. You’ll break it!”“Mommy!” Kian yells, flinging himself backward onto the rug like a miniature stuntman. “I didn’t do anything! Hania’s the one who…”“Don’t argue! Shoes on, now!” I snap, hopping off the bed and grabbing the twins’ backpacks. Hania’s soft bun, which I painstakingly redid for the third time this morning, has already loosened into a lopsided knot. I stare at it, exhale, and s

177

Annalissa HaleI’m stirring the pot on the stove when Clarissa bumps her hip against mine.“Move,” she says, even though there’s plenty of space.“No.” I grip the wooden spoon with exaggerated stubbornness. “This is my kitchen. You’re on my turf.”She laughs under her breath. “It’s our birthday. You’re supposed to be nice to me.”“I’ve been nice to you for twenty-eight years. My kindness quota is exhausted.”She flips her hair dramatically and reaches around me for the salt. “You’re insufferable.”“And yet you’re always here.”She snorts as she measures a pinch of salt between her fingers. The twins are shrieking in the living room with Hania singing off-key and Kian insisting he knows the correct lyrics even though he definitely doesn’t. Something crashes. Clarissa freezes. I don’t. I simply call out:“If it’s broken, nobody gets dessert!”The noise settles immediately. Small victories.I glance at the tiny birthday banner pinned above the kitchen counter. It’s nothing extravagan

178

Annalissa HaleHania is already reading when I wake up.I blink groggily, turning to find her sitting cross-legged at the foot of my bed, hair a mess and holding Matilda like she’s a college literature professor preparing a lecture.Kian, on the other hand, is half under my duvet, half on top of my pillows, building a fort using:two of my sweaters,a throw blanket,and what I suspect used to be my favorite purse.“Good morning, Mummy,” Hania says without looking up.Something inside me melts. “Good morning, sweetheart. Why are you awake so early?”“It’s the parent-teacher meeting,” she says matter-of-factly, turning a page. “I have to prepare.”“Kian?” I ask. “What are you preparing for?”“My empire,” he says, attaching a pillow with dramatic flair. “Nobody can invade my fortress.”Of course.I rub my eyes and stretch. “Okay, both of you, bath time. Now.”Kian groans. “Five more minutes. My fortress needs reinforcement.”“Your fortress will not protect you from smelling like yest

179

Annalissa HaleBy the time I pull into the school parking lot, my heartbeat is a steady drum against my ribs. Trouble. The twins. Two words that should never be in the same sentence, but somehow always are. I turn off the engine and sit for a few seconds, palms pressed against the steering wheel, gathering myself.Please don’t let it be something dramatic. Please don’t let anyone be injured. Please don’t let Kian have tried to fly.I step out, sling my bag over my shoulder, and walk toward the main building. The receptionist recognizes me instantly, there are benefits and curses to being the mother of the two most memorable first graders in this entire school.“Good afternoon, Ms. Hale,” she says kindly. Too kindly. Uh-oh.“Hi,” I say, trying to sound normal. “I’m here to see Mrs. Rowan?”“She’s waiting for you.” The receptionist gives a sympathetic smile. The kind that says you’re a good mom, but your children… well…I inhale slowly and knock on the door before entering.Mrs. Rowan

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