Semua Bab The Mafia King’s Queen : Bab 161 - Bab 170

FiorellaDarkness pressed over me in thick, suffocating layers.No light.No sound.No sense of time.Only pain blooming behind my eyes and a dull ringing in my ears.My first breath tasted like dust and damp concrete. My second burned. My third came with the realization that my hands were tied behind me, coarse rope biting into my wrists, not tight enough to injure, but tight enough to keep me submissive.I forced my vision to focus. Shadows. Cold floor. Metallic smell. A faint dripping somewhere in the distance. A warehouse? A bunker? A basement? Hard to tell. The air was thick with mold and rust, the kind of scent that clung to the lungs like a warning.I blinked, adjusting.Something soft rustled beside me.A shape moved.“Fi… Fiorella?”My blood froze.That voice.That voice belonged to a ghost.I turned slowly, too afraid to hope, too terrified to breathe.My heart stuttered.There, in the dim outline of a corner, sat a woman with tangled hair cascading over her shoulders, eyes

FiorellaThe world tilted violently as Rocco shoved me to the side. My arms scraped across the concrete floor, pain flaring sharply up my spine. The air was deafening with gunfire, the walls shaking as something, explosions, shook the warehouse from floor to ceiling. My chest burned from the impact of hitting the ground, and I tasted copper, sharp and metallic, on my tongue.For a second, I couldn’t think. My head spun, vision blurry, the edges of my surroundings bleeding together in shadows and flickering lights. But instinct cut through the haze. I rolled onto my hands and knees, blinking, forcing my senses to work.Rocco’s silhouette was a moving shadow across the chaos, weaving between the blasts, fists swinging, weapons clashing. Camillo was there, snarling, knife in hand, moving with terrifying precision. Nek laughed from somewhere behind a stack of crates, his voice cutting through the cacophony like glass on stone.“Stay down, Fiorella!” Rocco shouted, a roar that made my ches

RoccoThe world returned in fragments.Sound first - muffled, distant, like my ears were underwater. Someone shouting my name. Heavy boots crunching through debris. A car engine rumbling, too close, too loud.Then smell - smoke, burning metal, diesel.Then pain.A brutal crushing weight on my ribs, sharp stones digging into my spine, heat licking the back of my neck like the breath of some demon. My eyelids felt glued shut, my throat scorched.And then…“Rocco! Rocco, hey, stay with me…”Leo's voice. Close. Panicked.Something inside me ripped sharply awake.My eyes flew open.Everything above me was black sky and orange flame. The warehouse was gone, collapsed carcass of steel and fire, embers floating in the air like dying stars. Leo hovered over me, face smeared with soot, sweat dripping from his jaw.“Thank God,” he breathed, his exhalation shaky. “I thought you were done.”I tried to speak, but all that came out was a rasp. “Fi… Fiorella—"Leo didn't answer. He just took my arm

RoccoThe doctors wanted her to rest.They wanted me to rest too, but that wasn't happening. Not while Fiorella slept in that hospital bed looking too pale, too bruised, too breakable for my sanity.So, I stayed.Not beside her at first-I paced.Five hours of pacing the length of the room, stopping every few minutes just to look at her and reassure myself her chest was still rising. Every time her breath hitched or she shifted, something inside me twisted painfully, like my heart wasn't used to beating without fear anymore.When she finally settled into a deeper sleep, I pulled a chair close and sat.I didn't touch her.I just… watched.The soft glow of the hospital lights shone down on her bandaged shoulder. Her hair was a mess, splayed out on the pillow, strands running across her cheek. The urge to move them clawed at me until I finally gave in, smoothing them back gently, my fingertips lingering just a second longer than necessary.She sighed in her sleep, unconsciously leaning to

RoccoIt’s been more than a month now since everything went down.The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white outside the car window, but I barely noticed. Fiorella's hand on my thigh anchored me far more than the wheel ever could. The warmth of her skin pressed through the fabric, subtle, teasing, enough to make my pulse jump and my mind forget everything else.I looked over at her, catching sight of her silent stare out at the onrushing lights, lips parted slightly, eyelashes casting soft shadows across her cheeks. Even in her rare quiet moments, she had ways of drawing the whole of me toward her like a gravity I never wanted to resist.“You’re staring,” she murmured without turning.“I’m… admiring,” I said, my voice low, roughened with something she didn’t need to know, something she probably already guessed.Finally, she turned, her green eyes catching mine in the dim light, and the tiniest smirk curled her lips. “Admiring… huh? You mean wanting to devour me?”I laughed