All Chapters of Mafia's Heir: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The fog was thick that morning so heavy it turned the world into a blur of gray and silence.Adrien drove fast but careful, every muscle in his body coiled with quiet control. Elena sat beside him, clutching her bag, her gaze fixed on the road that seemed to vanish into the mist.They hadn’t spoken much since dawn. Words felt dangerous like they might wake the shadows following them.“Is the contact trustworthy?” Elena finally asked, breaking the silence.Adrien’s eyes flicked to the side mirror, scanning the empty road. “He used to be. We’ll find out soon enough.”“You don’t sound convinced.”“I’ve learned not to be.”She looked at him then the hard line of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble, the exhaustion that clung to him like a second skin. Even in silence, he radiated danger. But underneath it, she saw something else too: a man carrying more ghosts than he could count.“You haven’t slept in two days,” she said softly.“Sleep makes you slow.”“And emotion?”Adrien’s lips cur

Morning came quietly soft light creeping through the cracked windows of the old cabin, brushing across the floorboards where Elena lay awake.She hadn’t slept. Not after what Adrien confessed. The words kept replaying in her head like broken glass, sharp and unrelenting.Her father’s death. The D’Angelo name. The truth she never saw coming.And yet… she couldn’t bring herself to hate him completely.When she heard the door creak, she turned her head. Adrien stood outside on the porch, shirt sleeves rolled up, cigarette between his fingers, the cold air brushing through his hair.He looked like a man carrying both sin and salvation.Elena rose slowly, pulling on his jacket from last night — it still smelled like him: smoke, salt, and something faintly clean, like rain after fire.“You didn’t sleep either,” she said as she stepped outside.Adrien didn’t turn around. “Didn’t plan to.”“Because of me?” she asked softly.He exhaled a thin cloud of smoke. “Because of everything.”Silence s

The dining hall of the D’Angelo estate was a masterpiece of old wealth long mahogany tables, crystal chandeliers, walls lined with portraits of men who built empires with blood and silence.Elena could feel their painted eyes on her as she walked beside Adrien. Every click of her heels echoed like a challenge in the hollow room.Alessandro sat at the head of the table, his posture a perfect blend of charm and control. The rest of the family uncles, cousins, advisers — filled the seats along the sides, each face a mask of polite curiosity.“Adrien,” Alessandro greeted, voice smooth, carrying that unshakable authority that made men obey without question. “It’s been too long since you sat at this table.”Adrien smiled, sharp and cold. “Some tables aren’t worth sitting at.”Soft laughter rippled around them, though no one dared let it last too long.Elena took her seat beside Adrien, aware of every gaze fixed on her. She could feel the weight of the lie pressing against her skin fiancé

Morning came late to the D’Angelo estate.The mansion stood bruised and quiet, smoke curling faintly from the wreckage at the far end of the gardens. The scent of gunpowder and blood lingered in the air, mixing with the chill of dawn.Elena hadn’t slept. Not a second.She sat on the edge of the velvet couch in the safe room, hands clasped, heart still echoing with the gunshots from the night before. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw flashes — Adrien dragging one of his men to cover, his voice cutting through the chaos, the sound of her own breath as she hid behind the monitors, praying he’d come back alive.Now he was gone again — somewhere in the house, dealing with what was left of the attack.She couldn’t stay here anymore.Elena stood, pushing the heavy door open. The hallway was filled with quiet movement — guards cleaning, whispering orders, stepping around shattered glass and bullet holes. The elegant calm of the D’Angelo mansion had been stripped away.When she reached t

The storm had quieted by dawn, leaving the world drenched and trembling. The marble floors of the D’Angelo estate gleamed faintly under the pale morning light, reflecting the silence that followed the night’s chaos. But inside Adrien’s head, the storm had not passed.He hadn’t slept.His mind replayed every second — the way her voice had broken when she asked, Then why do you keep coming back?The way he had left, like a coward running from his own desires.Now, he stood by the window in his private office, sleeves rolled up, his tie discarded on the desk beside a half-empty glass of whiskey. He hated mornings. They brought clarity. And clarity reminded him of what he could never have.He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply. You’re losing control, Adrien.For years, he had mastered the art of restraint — emotions buried, compassion burned out of him. That was how you survived in the world he ruled. But Elena... she cracked open parts of him he thought were long dead.A kno