Todos los capítulos de The Mafia King’s Queen : Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

FiorellaThe heaviness of the day weighed down on me, exhaustion creeping into my very bones, but my thoughts were too restless to succumb to sleep. My body throbbed from training, my knuckles still sore from the collision of my punches upon the bag. I had given everything to that session, trying to concentrate the tempest within me into something tangible. Something I could master. But even after all of that, I still found myself reaching for my phone.I scrolled through my contacts, my thumb hovering over one name longer than I'd like to admit.Rocco.I hesitated.It had been hardly over a few hours since he had left, yet I could feel him as an invisible presence, hiding in the shadows. Not that I was missing just his presence around—I was missing his quiet confidence, the way he grounded me without trying to overpower me.I hesitated for a moment before I took up the receiver and dialled his number.It had rung twice before his deep voice spoke over the speaker."Miss me already,

FiorellaThe soft glow of the morning sun cast through the curtains, leaving streaks of golden heat on the room. The penthouse was quiet, apart from the gentle rhythm of breathing, his breathing.Rocco.I blinked sleepily, my head still on his chest, my body folded up into his warmth. I didn't move for an instant. I just lay there, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breath , feeling the way his arm still loosely wrapped around me, even asleep, he was not going to let go of me.I bent my head to the side, and fixed my eyes on his face. He looked so peaceful like this. The sharpness of his features, the hardness carved into his face through years of brutality and responsibility, had softened. The weight of the world that he carried every day had been cast off, leaving behind a man who, in sleep, seemed untouched by the darkness we lived in.I let my fingers graze the material of his shirt, my touch light as a feather. Half of me longed to trace the edge of his jaw, to sear into

FiorellaThe smell of wood and dust clung to the air, the sound of hammers and drills taking up the space that had once been my sanctuary. My home remained in ruins, but there was progress—it was slow, steady, and implacable, just like me.I stood at the edge of the building site, arms crossed, and watched the workers with their competence. Walls were being reinforced, windows being fitted, and the burned parts of the estate being destroyed and rebuilt. It was a painful thing to see, watching the house I grew up in become a work-in-progress, but at least it was being restored. At least I was doing something.Leo came up to me, his hands shoved in his pockets, seeing the same thing occur. "It's coming along."I nodded. "It'll be better than it was before when it's done.""Yeah," he said, but there was something beneath his tone. Concern, maybe. "But you're working too hard, Fiorella."I breathed out, shifting my weight. "There's no other choice. If I don't keep going, I'll lose control

FiorellaHeat spread through my body as Rocco’s lips moved against mine, slow and deliberate, as if he was savouring every second, every breath. His hands trailed over my waist, firm and possessive, while I clutched onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him closer.The air between us was thick with longing, a slow burn that had been building for too long. Every brush of his lips sent sparks down my spine, every touch igniting something deeper inside me.I tilted my head, letting him deepen the kiss, his fingers sliding into my hair, gripping just enough to make me gasp softly against his mouth. His control unraveled just slightly at the sound, a low growl vibrating in his chest as he pressed me gently down onto the bed, his weight settling over me, warm and solid.The feeling of him so close, his scent surrounding me—woodsy, rich, utterly intoxicating—sent my heart racing. I ran my hands up his back, feeling the hard lines of his muscles, the tension coiled beneath

FiorellaI was awakened by the scent of something sweet—sugar, vanilla, warmth. My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was Rocco, standing at the end of the bed, a small birthday cake in his hands, one candle lit in the centre.And he was singing.His voice was deep and raspy, not very tuneful, but the mere fact that he was actually doing it had my heart fluttering."Happy birthday to you…."I smiled slowly, sitting up against the pillows, blinking sleep away. "You sing now?""I make exceptions." He smiled, coming closer. "Come on, birthday girl. Make a wish."I looked at the candle, the tiny flame flickering like it had a secret it told only me.What did I wish for?The first thing that popped into my head wasn't power. It wasn't money or revenge.It was this. Moments like these. Quiet mornings. And Rocco. A future with him. A family. The thought should have scared me, but it didn't. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply before blowing out the candle. When I opened the