Lahat ng Kabanata ng Oops! I Mistakenly Kidnapped The Mafia Don’s Heir: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Chapter 51 KEGAN ⟻⟼ ✦ ⟻⟼ I woke up to Estelle tracing patterns on my chest, her finger following the scar that ran from my collarbone to my sternum, a gift I'd earned at fifteen from a Bratva enforcer who'd learned the hard way that knives required follow-through. "Why are you up so early?" I said without opening my eyes, still half-drowning in the kind of contentment I hadn't felt in longer than I cared to examine. "This must have been so painful." Her voice was still sleep-rough, and it did things to me that were inconvenient given I had approximately three hours before my brothers descended on my penthouse like a plague of well-dressed locusts. "Occupational hazard." I said it dryly, the kind of understatement that had become second nature after years spent explaining away things that would horrify anyone outside this life. "What occupation requires this gashing stab wound?" She traced the edge of the scar again, more gently this time, like she was trying to imagine the fifte

Chapter 53 ESTELLE ⟻⟼ ✦ ⟻⟼ I was still floating somewhere between reality and fantasy when my phone binged approximately three minutes after Kegan dropped me off at Vivian's flat. As a matter of fact, I think I'd be blushing every time the thought of Kegan and last night crosses my mind for the rest of my life. Imagine the haze of having the most intense night of your life followed by a car ride where a dangerously attractive man kept his hand on your thigh the entire time while looking at you like he wanted to devour you all over again. A small ping from my phone shattered my fantasy. I pulled out my phone, expecting maybe a text from him. A "got home safe" or "make sure you get contraceptive pills" or literally anything that would help ground me back in the real world. Instead, I got a banking notification. DEPOSIT: £80,000.00 From: K. Gaetano Message: For whatever you need. Don't argue. I screamed. Actually screamed. Loud enough that Vivian came running from her bedroom

Chapter 55 ESTELLE ⟻⟼ ✦ ⟻⟼ My phone buzzed while Vivian and I were in the middle of Harrods, surrounded by more designer clothing than I'd ever seen in my life. Can't do dinner tonight. Family stuff came up. Tomorrow? I stared at the message from Kegan, trying to decode what "family stuff" meant. His family was in Sicily. "What's wrong?" Vivian looked up from the Burberry trench coat she was trying on. "You've got that face." "What face?" "The 'my boyfriend is being weird and I'm overthinking it' face." She came over to read over my shoulder before I could hide the phone. "Oh. Family stuff. That's vague." "Maybe it's actually family stuff," I said, but even I didn't believe it. My mind immediately went to Melissa. She was family, Russel's sister, technically part of Kegan's extended circle. And she was in London. What if she was there? What if that's why he couldn't see me tonight? "Or," Vivian said carefully, "it's actual family business. Like, mafia family business. One th

Chapter 57 KEGAN ⟻⟼ ✦ ⟻⟼ The warehouse district was in Tilbury. I sat in the back of the armored Range Rover, watching the target building through tinted windows. Beside me, Dylan checked his weapon while whispering a tuneless song. In the driver's seat, Marcel spun a chip between his fingers, that infuriating grin on his face like we were heading to a fucking carnival instead of a potential bloodbath. It was obvious they were both looking forward to some bloodbath. Nikolai rode in the second vehicle with four of our best men. Melissa was supposed to be in the third car, staying back as our eye in the sky with the surveillance equipment. My phone vibrated against my thigh. Again. I'd put it on silent twenty minutes ago, but I could still feel it. Three calls in the last twenty minutes. All from Estelle. Not now, Little Bird, I thought, jaw clenching. Not fucking now. "Your girlfriend's persistent," Dylan observed without looking up from his gun. "That's the seventh time." "E

Chapter 59 ESTELLE ⟻⟼ ✦ ⟻⟼ The fluorescent lights in Millie's hospital room buzzed like angry wasps, drilling into my skull with each passing second. I'd been sitting in this uncomfortable plastic chair for hours, six? Seven? I'd lost track somewhere around the fourth cup of vending machine coffee. Time had become elastic, stretching and contracting in ways that made no sense. Millie lay motionless in the bed, her chest rising and falling with mechanical precision thanks to the monitors and tubes keeping her alive. The rhythmic beeping should have been a comforting proof she was still here, still breathing, but it only made me scared. Because someone had aimed for me and hit her instead. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I'd tried everything, from clasping them together, sitting on them, to gripping the chair arms until my knuckles turned white, but the tremors persisted, like my body was trying to vibrate itself apart from the inside out, refusing to accept that the danger had ac