All Chapters of THE MAFIA'S REVENGE BRIDE: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Chapter 72: Velvet ChainsLiam’s POVMy phone buzzed on the nightstand, yanking me out of a half-sleep.I fumbled for it, knocking over a bottle of water in the process."Shit," I muttered as I hit the answer button without looking at the screen. "Yeah?""Liam, there's a new guest. And yes, he’s a priority client. American. You're to keep him company."The voice on the other end was cool, detached.I sat up quickly, my heart racing. A new guest meant money, but it also meant complications.I'd been working for the club for six months now, and while the pay was good, the hours were unpredictable. And the guests… well, they could be anything but predictable."Okay, when?" I asked, already mentally calculating how much time I had to get ready."Now. He's just arrived, and we've been instructed to let him have fun. Your job is to ensure that happens."I felt a twinge of discomfort at that. Some of the guests had unusual tastes. But that was part of the job."Got it. Any specific instructi

Marco’s POVThe next night, Liam showed up again, this time with a smile and a challenge in his eyes.“Ready to go?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe like he’d been standing there for hours.I grabbed my jacket. “You don’t quit, do you?”“Not part of the job description,” he said with a grin.This time, I didn’t argue. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I just didn’t want to be alone. Whatever the reason, I followed him out into the night.He didn’t tell me where we were going, and I didn’t ask. The city unfolded before us, bright lights, loud laughter, cars cutting through the dark like silver knives. We ended up by the water, the air heavy with salt and secrets.Over the next few weeks, it became a pattern.Liam showed up. I pretended not to care.We’d go somewhere — the desert, a rooftop, a crowded souk — and he’d talk, mostly nonsense, while I tried not to listen.But I did. Every damn word.He had a way of getting under my skin, of pulling me out of my own head without even trying.

Marco’s POVThe city didn’t sleep. It just pretended to.Even at four in the morning, Dubai still burned, glass towers lit up like stars pretending to be something they weren’t. From my hotel window, I could see it all: the desert wind stirring in the distance, the hum of engines far below, and Liam asleep on the couch, one arm thrown over his face like he’d been fighting the night itself.I should’ve sent him away hours ago.Instead, he was still here.I didn’t know when I started letting that happen, the lingering. The talking. The quiet that didn’t feel empty anymore.I turned from the window and poured myself a drink. The ice cracked, sharp in the silence.Liam stirred. “Could you pour one for me too?”I didn’t answer, but I poured it anyway, handed it to him without looking. He sat up, hair messy, shirt half unbuttoned. Too casual for someone who had the nerve to crawl under my skin.“You’re up early,” he said, voice still rough from sleep.“Didn’t sleep.”He took a slow sip, wa

Marco’s POVI didn’t expect him to come back.Part of me hoped he wouldn’t. The other part, the weaker part, had been standing outside my building for twenty minutes, suitcase at my feet, pretending I wasn’t waiting for him.When I saw Liam walking toward me through the night haze, something in my chest unclenched. He looked tired, eyes ringed in sleeplessness, but when he saw me, he stopped like he wasn’t sure I was real.“Liam,” I said, and it came out rougher than I meant it to. “I’m glad you’re here.”He didn’t answer right away. His eyes went to the suitcase, then back to me. “What’s going on?”I hesitated. The truth was, I didn’t even know how to explain it. I’d spent days trying to suffocate the noise in my head, guilt, fear, want, but none of it worked. Not until I decided to move. To do something before I drowned in it.I reached for his hand before I could talk myself out of it. “I want to show you something. Will you come with me?”He looked at me, then at our hands. His fi

Marco’s POVI used to think grief was a weight you carried. Something solid. But it isn’t. It’s smoke, it has the capacity to fill every space you let it.Dante’s ghost had lived in every corner of me for months. I kept him alive by refusing to let anything else grow where he once stood.But standing there in the desert with Liam’s hand in mine, I realized I was tired of being haunted.The road back to the city was long and quiet. Liam drove this time, one hand on the wheel, the other resting against my thigh like he was afraid I might vanish if he didn’t keep contact. I didn’t mind. ItThe sand gave way to asphalt, the skyline rising ahead like glass knives under the sun. Somewhere beneath all that light and heat, life kept going, people laughing, working, moving on. Maybe I could too.Liam glanced at me. “You okay?”I nodded, though I wasn’t sure it was true. “I think so.”“Thinking about him?”I didn’t answer right away. Then I said, “Always.”He nodded, eyes back on the road. “You