All Chapters of The Mafia King’s Queen : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

FiorellaThe sun had not yet risen above the horizon when I stood facing the grand staircase of the De Luca mansion, my coat draped carelessly around my shoulders and exhaustion etched deep beneath my eyes.Rocco had left early to meet with Rafael and Riccardo to talk about the attack. He'd kissed my cheeks before leaving, his voice rough yet soft as he told me to rest. But I couldn’t rest, not when the whole world appeared to be crashing down. I needed to get up and move and do something, anything. So, I thought I'd go back to my own manor to switch clothes, maybe pick up some essentials. The De Luca estate seemed more stifling than ever this morning, and though Rocco didn't want me to go, I didn't feel like wasting away here.The ride home was quiet. Leo had sent Giallo, my bodyguard to drive me and he was more tense than usual. The roads were empty, the city quiet under the light. My mind wandered, to Rocco, to Rosalia, to the storm that still churned around us like an ugly cloud.

FiorellaThe morning air was thick, turbulent, the kind that appeared to hold secrets in its gust.Rocco hadn't uttered a single word during the drive. His fingers drummed once against the steering wheel, the lone external sign of the tempest I knew seethed beneath that impassive, unrumpled facade. Jaw clenched, eyes staring at the road, the minute glint of sun off the hood of the vehicle.The D'Angelo compound appeared in the distance like an open sore, tall iron fences with ivy growing on them, the gold crest glinting in the sunlight. My stomach turned over as the guards parted as soon as they saw me.The last time I'd been here, I was the little, obedient niece, the one that Phillipe had loved to display as the future of the family name. Today, I was the woman he'd tried to ruin.Rocco drove into the circular driveway and cut off the engine. The silence that lingered was stifling.“You sure about this?” he asked, finally turning to me. His voice was low, calm, too calm. The kind

FiorellaThe mansion was too quiet.It had been like that since I returned yesterday, the kind of silence that vibrates beneath the skin, pressing at the edges of thought until it takes on a life of its own. My men walked on eggshells around me, sensing the tension even when I said nothing. Every sound, the clink of a cup, the muted hum of the espresso machine, was magnified, as if the house itself was holding its breath to listen.I was in the small office off the terrace, laptop open but the numbers fuzzing before my eyes. Contracts, shipments, pending deals, all needing my signature, my attention. But whenever I tried to focus, my mind pulled me back to Rocco and everything that had happened in the last few days: especially the retaliation attack Rocco carried on with Phillipe.A sharp buzz from my phone jerked me back to life. Unknown number.My stomach clenched at once. I knew that number pattern, the last four digits branded into my memory. Philippe.I swiped at the screen,

FiorellaMorning sunlight filtered through the cream curtains of my room, soft and golden, too understated for the week we'd had. For the first time in days, I wanted quiet, no plotting, no tension, no calls from Philippe or suppliers or security. Something that didn't stink of menace. So I tossed a small overnight bag together, brushed my hair, and headed out to drive to the De Luca estate.Rocco hadn't invited me to come along. He'd been gone for meetings since the break of day, but I needed to see Rosalia. Needed to know she was healing, not just for Rafael's sake, but mine too. She'd become the calm to our chaos.The De Luca gates opened before I even honked my horn. The guards knew my car by now. As the tires crunched across the long gravel driveway, I caught sight of the garden where Rosalia used to sit and read during her mornings. It was empty now, trimmed and quiet.Aria was in the hallway already when I entered, a small smile that warmed the chill of the house instantly. "Fi

FiorellaThe sun set low when I finally saw Rocco's car drive through the iron gates. I'd been walking back and forth by the balcony for nearly half an hour, watching shadows move across the courtyard, running over all possible reasons he might still be out this late. Meetings, strategies, acts of revenge, things men like him did when the world decided to break apart at their feet.But as the door opened and he came in, I knew something was wrong. His step was sharp, his face chiseled stone. He didn't even remove his jacket before he uncorked a bottle and filled a glass.He drank it straight."Rocco?" I breathed.He didn't answer right away. The glass came down more forcefully than it had to, the clink echoing in the quiet air. And then he glanced at me,eyes glazing, smoldering beneath."I should've killed him."My heart stopped. "Antonio?"He nodded abruptly, stroking a hand over his jaw. "The bastard confessed to nothing until Rafael nearly broke him in half. Then he cracked. He sol