All Chapters of Maid To The Three Mafia Kings: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

When Ethan reached the library, he slammed the door open with enough force to make it rattle on its hinges.Inside, Aidan stood by a long wooden table covered with weapons—rifles, pistols, and ammunition. Dressed in a fitted black shirt and worn jeans, he was busy mounting a scope on a long rifle. He barely glanced up when Ethan entered.“Your wife-to-be came to see me,” Ethan growled, stepping closer. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Aidan? Do you have any idea how much work Father put into making your marriage with Marionne happen? Her father knows exactly what you are.”Aidan paused, setting down the rifle. He walked over to another table where a few bottles of beer were lined up, grabbed one, twisted off the cap, and took a long swig before speaking.“Yeah? Well, I’m the Moretti who likes to fuck around,” he said casually, gesturing broadly with the beer bottle in his hand. “I’m the Moretti who makes shitty decisions. And I’m the Moretti who doesn’t really care, right?” He leane

Marionne’s morning was sharp and biting. The sunlight filtered weakly through the sheer drapes, doing little to chase away the chill in the air—or her mood. Standing by her vanity, she adjusted the silk robe slipping off one shoulder, her sharp eyes fixed on her reflection. Her manicured nails tapped a steady rhythm against the polished wood, each click marking her growing irritation.“Andrea, this coffee is cold,” she said, turning toward Andrea, who lingered in the doorway, clutching a silver tray.Andrea’s fingers tightened around the tray, though her expression remained impassive. “I’ll replace it immediately.”“Don’t bother.” Marionne waved a dismissive hand, tossing her hair back as she stalked toward the window. “Where is Aidan?”“I haven’t seen him since breakfast,” Andrea answered.Marionne’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That man is testing my patience,” she muttered, then added sharply, “And that maid—what’s her name again? Amelia? Have you seen her with him?”Andrea hesi

Giancarlo stood in the middle of the grand courtyard, his eyes scanning the men surrounding him. Each had their guns raised, their sights locked on the same target—the balcony above.Aidan stood still, sniper rifle in hand. Giancarlo knew that if his men opened fire, Aidan wouldn’t stand a chance—he’d be ripped apart in seconds. But the thought of Aidan pulling the trigger first made him hesitate. He couldn’t risk it.Giancarlo exhaled sharply, placing his hands on his hips as he tilted his head up.“Tell me, Giovanni,” he called out, his voice carrying across the open space. “Why are you still defending your brother? You saw what he did. He screwed the woman you loved—over and over again. Don’t you hate him for that?”Aidan’s grip on the rifle tightened, his jaw locking. The mention of Millie and Ethan sent a fresh wave of anger through him, tightening his chest. The betrayal was still fresh.His lips pressed into a thin line, but when he spoke, his voice was steady. “You’re right. I

Evan stepped into the library, his chest tight with a familiar ache. This had once been his favorite room.A man rushed over, sweating and gripping a rifle. “We’ve got four of Giancarlo’s men out front. But a few are still loose—the worst ones.”Evan lowered his submachine gun. He glanced at Carlton, then back at the man. “Kill them.”The man hesitated, then nodded. “What about Giancarlo?”“Alive.”The man nodded again and ran off.Evan turned to leave, but his phone buzzed. He answered. “Yeah?”“We’ve secured the island.”“Good. Erase every camera.” He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Let’s move.”“The staff might be in the safe room,” Carlton said quietly. “Or already gone through the tunnel.”Evan nodded slowly. “She’s probably with them.”Before Carlton could answer, a voice called out from across the room.“Hey, Evan!”Evan turned. Four men were walking toward him, their suits wrinkled, faces tense.One of them spoke. “We checked—Ethan’s out cold but alive. Jam

Inside the mansion, the staff had gathered in the library, their faces pale, hands trembling. Some clutched glasses of water—untouched.Sandra and Andrea sat stiffly, staring at the floor, their expressions vacant. Shock had stolen their voices, and when officers questioned them, they only shook their heads.After almost 2 hours of futile questioning, the investigators gave up and let them go. With the entire estate under investigation, most of the staff was ordered to leave while officers combed every inch of the property.But Sheila, Sandra, and Andrea stayed behind. Don Hugo had made it clear—he didn’t want the estate, especially the mansion, left entirely in the hands of the police.In Ethan’s office, Aidan leaned against the bar, downing whiskey straight from the bottle.Sheila entered, Sandra and Andrea trailing behind her. “Do you need anything, Mr. Moretti?” she asked.Aidan raised the bottle without looking up. “Got everything I need right here, Sheila.” He took another swig.